As the final selection site, the deserted island was not very large.
At this moment, the civilian powerhouses competing for the vacant admiral positions disembarked from their ships one after another.
The final rule was simple and brutal.
If they wanted to become admirals, they had to defeat everyone and be the last one standing.
"If you don't want to die here, you'd better withdraw now."
At that moment, a man dressed in combat gear spoke to the crowd.
His name was Sanra, his number was 089, and he specialized in boxing.
"Kid, you'd better stay out of my way. Otherwise, I'll take you out first."
Behind Sanra, a man spoke coldly.
The man's name was Ratiō. He came from the West Blue and was a qigong master.
"I heard the more high-profile someone is, the faster they die."
A man carrying a greatsword chuckled.
Every powerhouse who had appeared on the deserted island had a Power Level of at least 5,000.
They were unquestionably Headquarters vice admirals, or even stronger.
"All right, can you people be quiet for a moment?"
A man wrapped completely in bandages, like a mummy, spoke.
"Competing with a bunch of idiots like you for an admiral position is utterly boring."
A swordsman who had lost his left eye shook his head.
The tension grew thicker by the second.
These powerhouses from all over the world had each chosen someone they intended to defeat.
"Begin."
At that moment, Victor announced the start.
"Heavenly Hegemon Fist!"
The instant Victor announced the start, Sanra punched toward Ratiō.
His fist was incredibly fast, and the pressure of it surged like an overturning mountain and raging sea.
Ratiō had also prepared for it long ago. He took a deep breath, then opened his eyes wide.
Ratiō threw out his