A loud yet restrained BGM rang out beneath the cloudless sky, quickly spreading across Poppy Island and bringing a touch of horror and grandeur to an atmosphere already thick with the stench of blood.
Sengoku led the elite Marines to a halt, gazing across the distance at the villa halfway up the mountain.
He had known they'd been spotted before they even set foot on the island.
Especially when this BGM began to play. That meant the man had arrived.
Across the entire sea—in fact, the whole world—there was only one person who could do this!
Boom!!!
A figure wreathed in golden light crashed down, slamming into the ground before Sengoku and his men.
All they could make out was a hazy silhouette.
Every Marine knew that this figure of light was the Golden Emperor.
But the figure wasn't alone. One after another, more figures came crashing down.
Some were wrapped in golden light, while others stood amid steam and flames. Each one was decked out in a flamboyant, high-profile style!
"Sengoku, long time no see!"
A heavy metallic voice came from the golden figure at the front, as if a tractor were lodged in its throat—deep and ponderous.
It carried not the slightest trace of emotion or inflection, as though all feelings and desires had been stripped away.
Sengoku's brow furrowed.
He couldn't sense any aura from the figure, not even the slightest sign of life.
His heart sank.
He wondered whether he should attack.
No matter how he tried, he couldn't detect any trace of the other party's presence. That meant they might not be injured.
If he attacked, he would have to capture the Golden Emperor for good.
If they failed and let him escape, the Marines could be plunged into a disastrous financial crisis.
At that