The Last Ohara Survivor

"Saint Ross, you..."

Olvia glared at Ross with hatred, her expression and eyes seeming ready to devour him whole.

Unfortunately, she did not possess Conqueror's Haki. Her glare had no destructive power whatsoever.

How could she not know that Ross wanted to watch them slaughter one another?

But the outcome Ross described was simply too terrifying.

Once someone became Ohara's sole survivor and admitted Ohara's crimes and repented—

Then everything they had done over the years would have been for nothing.

And not only that—what would her act of killing her companions just now amount to?

Once the bow had been drawn, there was no turning back.

Olvia's heart was filled with despair.

She knew that from the moment she fired that first shot, there was no room left to retreat.

And Ross's words had ripped away what little pretense she had left, placing the naked choice of life directly before her.

Olvia did not know whether anyone would resist, but she knew that if she did not strike quickly, the moment she paused to reload, the crowd might swarm her and bring her down.

She had already sacrificed too much.

She would not allow such an ending!

A sickly viciousness flashed through Olvia's eyes. She raised the gun in her hand and violently pulled the trigger.

Bang!!!

The gunshot rang out again.

It signified not only the death of another historian, but also the remaining six historians finally coming to their senses.

Passively awaiting death was not frightening to them. A gunshot took only an instant, and death itself lasted but a moment.

But watching their companions collapse one by one before their eyes, murdered by the companions they cherished most—the torment and despair constantly gnawed away at the historians' hearts.

Their fallen companions lay right beside them. How could they possibly resist Ross's temptation any longer?

To live.

It became their sole hope.

"Olvia, you demon!"

A burly male historian shouted and lunged at Olvia.

The others who were still alive moved as well, charging toward Olvia.

Bang!!!

Bang!!!

Bang!!!

After three gunshots, three male historians fell to the ground—but Olvia's gun was out of bullets as well.

The remaining two female historians and one male historian had already rushed up to her, throwing punches at Olvia.

Smack!!!

Olvia pressed her lips together, raised the Platinum Handgun in her hand, and viciously smashed it into the head of the sole male historian.

After traveling the seas for so many years, she had at least some ability.

At the very least, her Strength exceeded that of an ordinary person.

But that advantage was truly limited.

Surrounded and attacked by the three of them, Olvia was soon in grave danger.

"Olvia..."

Robin landed on the ground, staring blankly at the scene before her.

Her beloved mother, fighting with the other historians over researching the Poneglyphs, was now grappling with them like a group of street thugs brawling in the village.

At that moment, the image of her mother that Professor Clover and the other historians had built up completely shattered.

So her mother was not all that good after all. She was not much different from the uncle's family who had bullied her in the past.

The only difference was probably that she would not lay a hand on Robin, unlike her uncle's family, who would actually beat her.

Smack!!!

After a minute of grappling, Olvia ultimately won.

Or rather, under the watchful eyes of so many powerful people, it was inevitable that Olvia would win.

Olvia shakily got to her feet, wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, ignored the injuries covering her body, and stared fixedly at Ross.

"Saint Ross, you promised me! You promised me!"

"I did promise you. But count them—how many did you kill just now?" Ross asked.

"Seven. Counting them as two each, just as you agreed, that makes fourteen... fourteen..."

Olvia's face suddenly froze.

That was right—fourteen. She was still one short.

"I still have time. There are other people in Ohara."

Olvia's eyes were bloodshot as she spoke hoarsely.

After coming this far, how could she possibly allow herself to fall short by just one?

"Other people? Are there still other people in Ohara?"

Ross looked at Spandine as though asking an ordinary question.

But what kind of man was Spandine? He understood immediately and replied at once:

"Reporting to Saint Ross, the remaining Commoners of Ohara have already completed their evacuation aboard the refugee ships. The entire island of Ohara is now left with only us."

Who cared whether those lowly commoners had truly evacuated? This was what he had to say now.

Others might not know what Saint Ross was playing at, but how could he not?

Damn it, even among the Celestial Dragons, Saint Ross was definitely one of the most vicious.

Of course, Spandine only dared complain in his heart. He did not dare reveal even the slightest hint of it outwardly. He was already prepared to treat Ross like his own father.

With the status of a Celestial Dragon and such skill at playing these games, how could Spandine dare entertain any ulterior thoughts? Even several lives would not be enough to pay for it.

"There's no one left?!"

Olvia was instantly dazed. Her arm dropped limply, and the platinum pistol she had been gripping tightly slipped from her hand.

Zany appeared at her side in an instant, catching the pistol before it hit the ground. In the blink of an eye, she returned to Ross's side and respectfully presented it with both hands.

Ross expertly replaced the magazine, then handed the gun back to Zany.

Understanding his intent, Zany raised the gun and walked over to Olvia.

"I already showed you leniency. I counted each person as two. Think carefully." Ross spoke calmly.

"Impossible! This is simply impossible to accomplish! You never intended to let me continue researching the Poneglyphs!" Olvia said agitatedly.

They were both people who studied history, so why was the difference between them so great?

If it had been Willen, he probably would have understood Ross's meaning before firing the first shot.

Of course, if it had been Willen, Ross would not have made that initial demand in the first place.

"I'm not so tasteless as to do something like that. Since I said it, then it can certainly be accomplished."

Ross said blandly, "All right, think it through. Don't let anger and hatred blind you. Right now, you have no right to choose."

"Either continue and kill the last person."

"Or I take you away, and you spend the rest of your life in Mary Geoise, never again having any chance to touch a Poneglyph."

"No! Let me think!"

Olvia pressed her lips together, her mind racing without pause.

She was like a gambler who had lost the first thirty-eight rounds, yet knew the thirty-ninth was a guaranteed win—and that it would return ten times the losses from before.

At a time like this, who could possibly give up?

The people of Ohara... the people of Ohara...

Right, she was a person of Ohara too!

But she could not kill herself.

If she killed herself, wouldn't everything before this have been meaningless?

Calm down, calm down!

Olvia forced herself to calm down, her gaze still fixed on Ross.

Then, she suddenly saw Ross bend down with a smile and stroke Robin's head.

Robin...

After watching her kill so many people, she must have been heartbroken.

Only then did Olvia realize that she had killed every historian right in front of her daughter.

"Ohara... Ohara!"

Olvia's gaze, lingering on Robin, gradually turned vacant. Her lips kept repeating only the word "Ohara."

That was right!

She was from Ohara, and Robin was from Ohara too!

Robin was the key to breaking this deadlock—the person Ross had been referring to.

But... why did it have to be Robin?!