At the same time, in a room somewhere within the base, the central surveillance room of the facility, footage captured by the many surveillance Den Den Mushi installed throughout the base was gathered here.
Although it was already late at night, several Marines were still on duty in the surveillance room, yawning as they watched the monitors to prevent any accidents.
Then, an accident happened.
"What's going on? What happened to that fish-man?"
A startled cry shattered the silence.
The drowsy Marines instantly snapped awake and gathered behind the Marine who had spoken.
The Marine pointed at the surveillance screen. "He seemed a little unwell earlier. He suddenly collapsed while exercising."
"Is he sick?"
Someone guessed.
"Could he be faking it?" a Marine asked suspiciously.
"Doesn't look like it. He looked at the Den Den Mushi, but he doesn't seem to be asking us for help."
"That guy's been well-behaved these past few months. He should know what causing trouble means. Fish-men might sound impressive, but they're just an inferior race. How could he dare oppose the government?" a Marine said casually.
"That's true. Get someone to check on him. The doctor won't allow anything to happen to him."
"I'll go get someone."
Bright on the screen seemed to have lost consciousness and no longer moved. If not for the steady rise and fall of his chest, he would have looked just like a corpse.
Bright lay quietly on the cold floor, but his body was as hot as fire.
His heart hammered at incredible speed, powerfully pumping blood to every corner of his body.
It should have been the moment when his blood was boiling most fiercely, yet his mind was remarkably calm.
Of course, he was not sick. Vegapunk had not subjected him to any inhumane experiments either. They had merely drawn blood and collected some skin tissue and hair. For researching bloodlines, that was already enough.
His current state was naturally just an act.
He had endured for three months for this very moment.
The method was old-fashioned and not particularly clever, but it should work.
It was impossible to make the Marines relax their guard against him entirely. He only needed them to stop being as vigilant as they had been at the beginning.
Even reducing the difficulty from one hundred to ninety-nine would be worthwhile.
Creak.
Bright heard the heavy metal door open.
They had come quickly, so they probably had not had time to find a doctor in the medical department.
Good. Very good news.
The moment he had been waiting for was finally here.
His extreme tension and excitement drove his adrenaline even higher, but Bright felt calmer than ever.
Footsteps rang out.
One, two, three—
Were there seven people coming in?
Four stopped at the doorway, while only three approached.
Bang.
Bright felt someone kick his arm hard.
It hurt a little.
Then his hair was roughly grabbed, his head yanked up, and his right eye forced open.
Bright tried hard to relax his pupil, keeping his eyeball from trembling in the slightest.
Since there was no doctor, he was not worried.
"What do fish-men's pupils look like? Is this normal?"
A voice spoke, sounding somewhat impatient.
"I don't know, but Captain, he isn't moving at all. Looks like he really passed out," another voice replied.
Only a captain?
It seemed his act over the past three months had paid off.
"What a pain. I was sleeping so well! Damn fish-man, wouldn't it be better to just let him die? Then we won't have to smell that fishy stink anymore," another voice said.
"Don't say stupid things. He's important experimental material for the doctor. You can die, but he can't. Anyway, hurry up and put him on a stretcher. Get him to the medical department," the voice called Captain scolded.
"Damn it, fish-men stink. Won't touching him infect us with some disease?"
"That's why I told you to wear gloves, didn't I?"
Bright listened to the Marines talking. Then he was lifted up and roughly tossed onto a stretcher.
"This guy is really heavy! Get two more people over here to help!"
Two of the four Marines guarding the door came over. Then the four of them exerted themselves together, and Bright felt himself lifted into the air.
Then, at last, they began moving him out of the cell.
Bright silently calculated.
The Marines had started turning, which meant they had already left the cell. There seemed to be several Marines at the door, leading the way.
Hm, four?
So there were eleven people in total?
A patrol squad?
He could faintly hear metal clinking. They were carrying weapons. So they had not truly lowered their guard after all?
But it was enough. It was enough that no truly high-ranking officers from the Science Unit had come.
The Marines chatted idly as Bright tensed every nerve.
Turn left.
Then right.
Straight ahead.
Right again.
Then it should be here.
The base bathhouse, one of the few places in the facility without surveillance cameras due to privacy concerns.
The memory of being taken to the medical department for a physical examination before had finally become useful.
One final confirmation. There were eleven enemies in total. The four leading the way and the two following behind were definitely armed.
The four carrying the stretcher should have no free hands.
So the key was the Marine captain walking beside him.
Based on his previous observations, every patrol squad leader should carry a Den Den Mushi for communication and alarms. With one press, every Marine in the base would be mobilized.
So—
"Cough, cough, cough, cough!"
Bright suddenly opened his eyes. His body trembled as he began coughing violently, his head jerking as though in convulsions.
The four Marines carrying the stretcher staggered from his movements.
"What's going on?"
The bearded Marine captain frowned and leaned closer. "Hey, fish-man, what's wrong with you?"
"Hm?"
The Marine captain froze slightly. He saw Bright's twisted expression suddenly become calm.
Damn it!
The captain's expression changed.
But he made no sound. Bright's broad left hand had already clamped around his throat.
"Fish-Man Karate—Rough Shark!"
The muscles in Bright's left arm swelled, his fingers like forged steel as they dug straight into the Marine captain's neck.
In his more than ten years in the Fish-Man District and three years with the Sun Pirates, he had never neglected combat skills alongside physical training.
The Marine captain could not even scream with his throat gripped. His muscles and bones twisted, producing chilling creaks and cracks.
"Captain!!"
One of the Marines carrying the stretcher screamed.
After a brief moment of shock, the six armed Marines in front and behind finally remembered their duty and raised their guns.
Bright was powerfully built. At this distance, they did not even need to aim. He could not use the Marine captain as a shield against the bullets.
And he did not know Haki. Though he was strong, he was still flesh and blood. He could not withstand bullets.
So he sprang from the stretcher, raised his left arm high, lifted the Marine captain, and hurled him toward the four Marines in front.
Like bowling pins, the four Marines were sent flying, tumbling across the floor in a tangled heap.
Bright should not have been able to make such violent movements while restrained by handcuffs and shackles.
But at the instant he sprang up, the chains on both his handcuffs and shackles snapped taut and broke.
One Marine who had been carrying the stretcher and had fallen to the ground from Bright's movement stared at the scene in disbelief.
Those were chains made from special alloy! Even giants found them difficult to break free from!
A delighted smile curled across Bright's lips.
That was why it had not been yesterday, or the day before yesterday, or three days ago. It had been today!
Never underestimate a shark's teeth!
Every night after lights-out, he had curled up and silently, secretly, without alerting anyone, spent three whole months grinding away with his teeth bit by bit. He had worn down one hundred and seven teeth before finally breaking free of his restraints.
Droplets of water seeped from Bright's hands, and he flicked them casually.
"Water Strike."
In the next instant, the two Marines behind him were blasted backward.
Small holes had been punched through their chests, as though they had been pierced by large-caliber bullets.
Bright landed, his powerful legs driving him forward like a launched projectile.
The Marines he had just sent flying with the captain had no time to get back up before massive fists came crashing toward their faces.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
After loosening up a little, Bright turned around. The four Marines who had been carrying the stretcher had just pulled out their weapons.
Their movements trembled, and they repeatedly fumbled even while loading their guns.
They were afraid.
At last, they no longer looked down on him from above as they had before.
"Water Strike."
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