Bright's Redemption

At the same moment, in a certain room within the base, this was the base's main monitoring room. All the scenes captured by the numerous surveillance Den Den Mushis installed throughout the base were gathered here.

Although it was already deep into the night, there were still several Marines on duty in the monitoring room. They watched the screens while yawning, preventing any unexpected situations.

Then, an unexpected situation occurred.

"What's going on? What happened to that Fishman?"

A startled cry broke the silent atmosphere.

The previously drowsy Marines instantly sobered up and gathered behind the Marine who had made the exclamation.

That Marine pointed at the monitoring screen. "He looked a bit unwell earlier, and just now, while he was exercising, he suddenly collapsed."

"Is he sick?"

Someone guessed.

"Could he be faking it?" another Marine asked suspiciously.

"Doesn't seem like it. He glanced at the Den Den Mushi, but he doesn't seem to be asking for our help."

"This guy has been well-behaved for the past few months. He should know what it means to cause trouble. Fishmen, they sound powerful, but they're just an inferior race. How dare he go against the government?" a Marine said casually.

"That's true. Hurry and send someone to check on him. The Doctor won't allow anything to happen to him."

"I'll go get someone right away."

Bright on the screen seemed to have lost consciousness and was no longer moving. If his chest weren't still rising and falling, he would look like a corpse.

Bright lay quietly on the cold ground, but his body was as hot as fire.

His heart was beating rapidly, powerfully sending blood to every corner of his body.

Despite it being the most exhilarating moment, his mind was incredibly calm.

He wasn't sick, of course. Vegapunk hadn't performed any horrific experiments on him, only drawing blood and collecting skin tissue or hair. For studying bloodlines, these were sufficient.

His current state was, naturally, an act.

He had endured for three months for this very moment.

This method was cliché and not particularly clever, but it should serve its purpose.

It was impossible to make the Marines completely let down their guard against him, but it was enough to reduce their vigilance from one hundred percent to just above ninety-nine.

Squeak.

Bright heard the sound of a heavy metal door opening.

They arrived quickly, so there probably wasn't enough time to find a doctor in the medical department.

Good, excellent news.

The moment he had been waiting for was now.

The extreme tension and excitement further stimulated adrenaline secretion, but at this moment, Bright felt an unprecedented calm.

Footsteps sounded.

One, two, three--

Were there seven people entering?

Four stopped at the doorway, and only three approached.

Bang.

Bright felt his arm being kicked heavily.

It hurt a little.

Then his hair was roughly grabbed, his head was pulled up, and his right eye was forced open.

Bright tried his best to relax his pupils, ensuring his eyeballs didn't tremble in the slightest.

Since there was no doctor, he wasn't worried.

"What do Fishmen's pupils look like? Is this normal?"

A voice asked, sounding somewhat impatient.

"I don't know, Captain. But he's not moving. It looks like he's really unconscious," another voice replied.

Just a Captain?

It seemed his three months of pretending had paid off.

"He's really good at causing trouble. I was sleeping soundly! Damn Fishman, wouldn't it be better to just let him die? Then we wouldn't have to smell fish anymore." another voice said.

"Don't say stupid things. He's important experimental material for the Doctor. He can't die even if you die. Anyway, hurry up and put him on a stretcher and send him to the medical department," the voice called Captain reprimanded.

"Damn it, Fishmen stink. Won't I get infected with some disease if I touch him?"

"That's why I told you to wear gloves, wasn't it?"

Bright heard the Marines' conversation, and then he was lifted up and roughly thrown onto a stretcher.

"This guy is really heavy! Get two more people to help."

Two of the four Marines guarding the entrance came over. Then, all four put their strength into it, and Bright felt himself being lifted into the air.

Finally, they began to move him out of the cell.

Bright calculated silently in his heart.

The Marines started to turn, so they must have exited the cell. By the door, there seemed to be a few Marines, leading the way.

Hmm, four of them?

So, a total of eleven people?

Is this a patrol squad?

He could vaguely hear the sound of metal clashing. They were armed. Had their guard not been lowered?

But it was enough. It was enough that the truly high-ranking officers of the Science Unit hadn't come.

The Marines were chatting idly, while Bright's nerves were taut.

Turn left.

Then, turn right.

Go straight ahead.

Turn right again.

So, this should be it.

The base's bathhouse. For privacy reasons, it was one of the few places in the base without surveillance cameras.

The memory of being taken to the medical department for a physical examination before was finally coming in handy.

One last check: there were eleven enemies in total. The four leading the way and the two following behind were definitely armed.

The four carrying the stretcher likely couldn't free their hands.

So, the most crucial one was the Marine captain walking beside him.

Based on previous observations, the officers of every patrol squad should carry a Den Den Mushi for communication and alarms. Pressing it would alert all the Marines in the base.

So—

"Cough, cough, cough, cough!"

Bright suddenly opened his eyes, his body trembling as he began to cough violently, his head twitching as if convulsing.

Because of his movements, the four Marines carrying the stretcher swayed.

"What's going on?"

The Marine captain, with a thick beard, frowned and leaned closer. "Hey, Fishman, what's wrong?"

"Hmm?"

The Marine captain was slightly stunned. He saw Bright's contorted expression suddenly calm down.

This is bad!

The captain's expression changed.

But he couldn't make a sound. Bright's large left hand had already gripped his neck.

"Fish-Man Karate—Rough Shark!"

Bright's left arm muscles bulged, his fingers like forged steel, actually sinking into the Marine captain's neck.

After more than ten years in the Fish-Man District and three years in the Sun Pirates, besides training his body, he had never neglected his combat skills.

The Marine captain, with his neck choked, couldn't even scream. His muscles and bones were twisting, emitting a chilling creak.

"Captain!!"

One of the Marines carrying the stretcher screamed.

The six armed Marines in front and behind, after a brief moment of shock, finally remembered their duty and raised their firearms.

Bright was powerfully built. At this distance, there was no need to aim. He couldn't even use the Marine captain as a shield.

And he didn't have Haki. Although he was strong, he was still mortal and couldn't block bullets.

So, he leaped up from the stretcher, his left arm raised high, hoisting the Marine captain up, and then smashing him into the four Marines in front.

Like bowling pins, the four Marines were sent flying, tumbling like sacks of potatoes.

Under the restraint of handcuffs and shackles, Bright couldn't have made such a violent movement.

But the moment he leaped up, the chains of the handcuffs and shackles snapped simultaneously.

A Marine carrying the stretcher, who had fallen to the ground due to Bright's movement, watched this scene in disbelief.

Those were chains made of special alloy! Even giants couldn't break free!

A satisfied smile spread across Bright's lips.

So it wasn't yesterday, or the day before yesterday, or the day before that, but today!

Don't underestimate a shark's teeth!

Every night after the lights went out, he curled up and silently, quietly, without disturbing anyone, spent a full three months grinding his teeth little by little. He wore down one hundred and seven sets of teeth, finally breaking free from his physical restraints.

Water droplets seeped from Bright's hands, and then he simply flicked them away casually.

"Water Strike."

The next moment, the two Marines behind him were sent flying backward.

Their chests were pierced with small holes, as if they had been shot by a large-caliber gun.

Bright landed, his thick legs exerting force as he sprang forward.

The Marines who had just been smashed by the captain didn't even have time to get up before his massive fists were upon them.

Bang, bang, bang, bang.

After a slight warm-up, Bright turned around. The four Marines who had been carrying the stretcher were now drawing their weapons.

Their movements were trembling, and they fumbled repeatedly even while loading their guns.

They were scared.

Finally, it wasn't the same condescending attitude as before.

"Water Strike."

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