The moment the blue Gates of Hell closed behind him, Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni's right hand had already been raised.
"Bakudō twenty-six·Kyokkō."
Reishi surged out from the fingertips, spreading an extremely thin film on the surface of his and Chōjirō Sasakibe's bodies.
The light slides through the membrane, bypassing their outlines, and rejoins on the other side.
From the outside, the place where they stood was empty.
Reiatsu was pressed into the body at the same time.
The heartbeat slows down, breathing becomes shallow, and the skin temperature drops to be consistent with the surrounding air.
The two people disappeared simultaneously from the three levels of vision, perception, and temperature.
Yamamoto looks down through the film of Kyokkō.
There is an island at your feet.
The entire island is made up of huge tree roots.
The tree roots rose from the ground, intertwined and intertwined, new trunks grew from the gaps, and the tree trunks drooped with aerial roots and penetrated into the water below. The canopy spread out in layers, and the green spread from the center of the island to the surroundings, all the way to the edge of the white beach.
The bubbles rose from the cracks in the tree roots and floated swaying into the air. The sunlight passed through the bubble's membrane and refracted colorful spots, which fell on Leaves, fell on the street, and fell on the shoulders of pedestrians.
There is a salty smell in the air.
Sea water, resin, and some indescribable sweetness.
There are boats parked around the island.
Masts are densely arranged in the port, canvas is furled, and ropes are swaying gently in the wind.
The hull is painted with various colors of paint and flags of various colors are hung.
People were coming and going in the port, carrying goods, holding ropes, and shouting slogans.
Busy to the point of hustle and bustle.
Yamamoto's eyes returned from the port and fell on the crown of the giant tree at the highest point of the island.
A few clouds hung on the edge of the tree crown, torn into thin strips by the wind.
Chōjirō Sasakibe's eyes are falling on a ship sailing out of the port. There is a skull painted on the sail, and there is a red slash at the left eye of the skull.
He didn't recognize the pattern, but the message it conveyed was the same in any world.
"Master Genryūsai, we seem to have arrived at a very lively place."
The two landed on the back of an uninhabited tree root on the edge of the island.
Kyokkō was released the moment the sole of the foot touched the ground, and the Reishi film peeled off from the body, turning into tiny light spots and dissipating.
Stepping on the tree roots with your feet feels strange.
There is a very thin layer of wax on the surface, which feels slightly soft when stepped on, like stepping on semi-dry leather.
Bubbles rose from his feet and brushed against Yamamoto's cuffs, half of his face reflected on the surface of the film.
The sounds coming from the street were clear.
"Today's newspaper! Today's newspaper! The red-haired Yonko contacts Kaido!"
"Coating master! Are there any coating masters? We need two at No. 3 Dockyard!"
"Bubble Car for rent! It only costs five hundred Beli to go to the amusement park!" Yamamoto's brows moved slightly.
He understood.
Every word, every phrase, the tone of every sentence.
It's not a similar language, it's not the meaning inferred through Reishi's perception, it's the language of Soul Society.
Sasakibe also understood. His expression did not change, but his fingers curled up slightly in his cuffs.
Yamamoto was silent for a moment and took steps.
"Set down first."
He walked towards the port, Sasakibe followed half a step behind on the right.
The frequency of their steps was exactly the same, and the sounds of stepping on tree roots overlapped.
They found a dock at the edge of the harbor.
The owner of the dock is a man in his fifties, with his hair shaved short, revealing a dark brown scalp.
There was a scar on the chin that extended from the corner of the mouth to the base of the ear, and the stitches were as thick as a centipede. "Shipworker?" He looked at Yamamoto and Sasakibe up and down.
Yamamoto paused the crutch on the ground.
"Can repair ships."
The man looked at them for a while and pointed to the two fishing boats that were towed ashore in the corner of the dock.
"The keel is cracked and the sail rope is completely rotten. Repair it and leave it. If it can't be repaired, leave."
Yamamoto said nothing.
He walked to the fishing boat with a cracked keel and squatted down, placing his palms against the seams of the bottom planks.
Reishi Exudes a very fine trace from the palm of your hand and penetrates along the wood grain to find out the location, length and depth of the crack.
He stood up and picked up the hammer and nails next to him.
Before sunset, both fishing boats were repaired.
The cracks in the keel were closed with iron nails, filled with tung oil lime, and polished smooth.
All the sail ropes were replaced, the knots were neat, and the length of each rope end was the same. The man squatted beside the boat and looked at it for a long time, touched the seams of the keel with his fingers, and pulled the knots of the sail ropes. Then he stood up, took out a bunch of crumpled banknotes from his pocket, counted a few and handed them over.
"Stay."
Yamamoto took the banknotes.
Beli, he had heard this word in street conversations, the currency used in this world.
He folded the banknotes and put them into his cuffs.
After a few weeks, Yamamoto and Sasakibe have figured out the outline of this world.
Grand Line, Navy, Pirates, Yonko, Shichibukai, World Government, Revolutionary Army, Devil Fruit.
They were sitting on a platform covered with an awning on the cliffside of the port, with a wine flask and three wine glasses in front of them.
Below the cliff is the main channel of the port, where ships come and go, and the sound of whistles mixes with the sound of waves hitting the rocks.
Sitting opposite was an old man with white hair.
His hair is completely white, his beard is also white, and there is a vertical scar over his right eye, from the brow bone to the cheekbone.
He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt that had been washed until it turned white, with the collar open, exposing his collarbone and a few age spots on his chest. He had a pair of wooden clogs on his feet, with sand between his toes.
Silbaz·Silvers Rayleigh.
The residents of the island call him Coating Craftsman Rayleigh, the old drunkard Silvers Rayleigh, and Silvers Rayleigh who has not paid back the wine money for three months.
The big screen below the cliff lights up.
This screen is set up on the cliff directly opposite the port and is so large that it can be seen from any corner of the island.
Usually broadcast news, reward orders, and Marine Headquarters announcements.
What appears on the screen today is a building.
A huge fortress was built in the center of the circular harbor.
White stone walls, blue tile roofs, and the square is paved with gray slates.
In the center of the square was the execution platform, a wooden structure ten meters high with two guillotines on the top.
A man was kneeling under the execution platform.
He had black hair, was shirtless, and his wrists were locked behind his back with Seastone handcuffs. His head was lowered, his chin rested on his chest, and his face could not be seen clearly.
The square was full of people, wearing white uniforms, white hats, long guns and short cannons, swords, bows and crossbows.
Marine Headquarters's full combat strength, from marshal to general, lieutenant general to lieutenant, from giant troop to Pacifista.
One hundred thousand troops formed the square into a white square.
The screen switches and dozens of ships appear outside the harbor.
The hulls are different sizes, the flags are different, and the bows are all pointed in the same direction.
Whitebeard Pirates.
A face appeared on the screen, covering half of the sky as he stood up from the cabin.
His white beard curved into an arc, and he held a long-handled knife in his hand.
Whitebeard Edward Newgate, the World's Strongest Man.
The live broadcast has started.
Silvers Rayleigh grabbed the handle of the wine bottle, raised his head and took a sip. His Adam's apple rolled, and the wine flowed out of the spout, dripping down his chin and onto the collar of his shirt.
He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and turned his eyes from the big screen.
"You have to leave."
Not a question.
Yamamoto picked up the wine glass in front of him, and the wine sloshed around in the glass, reflecting the flickering picture on the big screen.
He raised the cup to his eyebrows and leaned forward slightly.
"Yeah, it's time to get down to business."
Silvers Rayleigh put the wine pot down and tapped the pot twice with his fingers.
In the past few weeks, he has answered many questions from Yamamoto.
The power distribution of Grand Line, the organizational structure of the navy, the three forms of Haki, and the restraint relationship of Devil Fruit.
Some questions are so deep that Silvers Rayleigh needs to stop and think about them for a long time.
Some of the questions were asked in a very biased manner, and it was not until the answers were finished that I realized why the other person asked them. But Silvers Rayleigh also saw clearly that these two people were not pirates, not navy, not Revolutionary Army, and did not belong to any camp in this world.
They have no flavor of this world.
There is no salt from the sea breeze pickling into the bones, no salt spots from the sun on the deck, and no smell of ink from the reward order.
They clean so thoroughly.
Sasakibe raised his head, looking across the port, across the sea, across the skyline, and fell in the direction of Red Line.
The red rock wall rose from the sea, so high that the clouds were cut off halfway up it.
The top of the rock wall is hidden above the clouds, and the end is invisible.
Red Line The highest point.
Holy Land Mary Geoise.
Sasakibe's gaze paused there for a moment, then withdrew.
"Master Genryūsai, should we go directly, or..."
"Oh?" Silvers Rayleigh leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and his white hair hung down from both sides of his shoulders.
"Where are you going? Can you take me with you?"
His eyes lit up behind his white hair.
The eyes of Coating Craftsman Rayleigh, the eyes of the old drunkard Silvers Rayleigh.
No one on the island knows the connection between these eyes and the name Silbaz Silvers Rayleigh.
But at this moment, these eyes were full of curiosity, unabashed curiosity.
Yamamoto ignored Silvers Rayleigh.
He put his hands on the crutches, leaned forward, and stood up from the chair.
The bottom of the crutch sank into the cliff soil, leaving two circular depressions.
His eyes fell on the big screen, on the fortress, and on the sea of white people in the square.
"If it were that boy Yan Si, what do you think you would do?"
Sasakibe also stood up, his movements were lighter than Yamamoto and made almost no sound. "He would definitely say, let everyone have the opportunity to be on the stage."
The corners of his mouth curled up slightly.
"And everyone has to understand what happened."
Yamamoto nodded, and the wrinkles at the corners of his mouth opened to both sides, revealing a very shallow arc.
"So, that's where most people can understand what's going on."
His chin tilted towards the big screen.
In the screen, Marine Headquarters Square is being photographed from various angles.
Execution platform, 100,000 troops, three generals, Marshal Sengoku.
The camera zooms out, and the Whitebeard Pirates fleet is approaching the harbor.
The camera zoomed in, and the face of the black-haired young man on the execution platform filled the entire screen.
Poscat·d·Ace.
Whitebeard Pirates Second Division Captain. This execution was broadcast live to the world.
"What are you going to do?"
Silvers Rayleigh Stand up.
His voice changed, and the curiosity disappeared from his tone.
"Help the pirates?"
Yamamoto's face darkened, the shadows of his brow bones pressed against his eyes, and the nasolabial folds on both sides of his nose were carved deep into his skin.
He turned his head, looked away from the big screen, and landed on Silvers Rayleigh's face.
"Helping the pirates? Stop joking."
Silvers Rayleigh's expression did not change, but his shoulder muscles tensed for a moment. That moment was so short that his eyelids didn't even have time to blink.
"I don't like this garbage."
Yamamoto's voice continued to sink.
"Thieves who only aim at the weak with their butcher's knives." Silvers Rayleigh's face froze, the arc that had been hanging at the corner of his mouth all year round disappeared, and his lips pursed into a straight line.
He knows better than anyone what a pirate is.
Rob, kill, burn, seize.
Hanging the flag of freedom, engaging in plunder.
The blood on his own hands includes those of bad guys, some of good guys, some who took up arms to resist, and some who knelt on the ground and begged for mercy.
Every drop is still there, it cannot be washed away or smoothed, you can see it every night when you close your eyes.
A voice came from the big screen.
Low and deep, with a sense of frustration developed from giving orders over a long period of time.
The voice of Navy Commander Sengoku came from the screen, from the loudspeakers on both sides of the port, and from the broadcasts in every public place on the island.
"Poscat·d·Ace."
The voice on the loudspeaker paused.
"He is the son of Pirate King Gol·d·Roger." The port exploded.
The crowd watching the live broadcast made sounds at the same time.
Some people screamed, some gasped, and some dropped their things on the ground.
The wine glass shattered, Beli rolled down, and the chair overturned.
The sound changed from screaming to discussion, from discussion to roaring noise.
The son of the Pirate King, the son of Roger.
Roger, who was executed more than 20 years ago, started the era of great pirates.
His son is still alive and will be executed soon.
Yamamoto blew out a puff of air from his nostrils.
Very short, very light, squeezed out of the nose without even moving the lips.
The wrinkles on his old face were embedded with condescending disdain.
Silvers Rayleigh saw that expression. The frozen shell on his face cracked, his brows were pressed down, the scars at the corners of his eyes twitched, and his lips pursed tighter.
"Yamamoto brother."
The voice was lowered so that only three people could hear it.
"You seem to dislike One Piece very much."
Yamamoto turned his head slightly, his steady gaze fell on Silvers Rayleigh's face, and stayed for a moment.
"Just a loser."
There is no ups and downs in the sound.
"When his son was executed, no one from the previous crew members came to the scene to rescue him. This is enough to prove his failure."
Silvers Rayleigh's pupils shrank, his eyelids twitched, and the muscles at the corners of his mouth twitched.
Yamamoto looked away from Silvers Rayleigh's face.
"Okay, I won't talk to you anymore."
"Sasakibe." "Yes, sir."
Silvers Rayleigh suddenly stretched out his hand, spread out his fingers, and grabbed Yamamoto's wrist.
The hand stopped in mid-air.
Where Yamamoto and Sasakibe were standing, there were only two wine bowls left.
The wine in the bowl was still sloshing, reflecting the flickering images on the big screen.
Silvers Rayleigh's hand paused in mid-air for a moment, and then retracted it.
He looked down at his fingers.
At that moment, he didn't even see clearly how the other party moved.
Observation Haki is fully opened and no trace can be captured.
Turning to look at the big screen, the black-haired young man on the screen was yelling loudly.
His mouth opened as wide as possible, all the veins on his neck popped out, and the sound exploded from the screen, echoing over the port.
"Dad!" Boskat·d·Ace was shouting.
The one shouting was not Roger, but Whitebeard.
Not my father, but my dad.
Silvers Rayleigh's hands clenched and then unclenched.
He sat back on the chair with his legs crossed again, raised the wine bottle, and drank it down.
The Adam's apple rolled rapidly, and the wine leaked from the corners of the mouth, flowing down the neck and into the collar.
The wine jug was empty, so he turned the spout over and the last drop of wine fell on the tip of his tongue.
"Shakky..."
The voice was very soft, so soft that it was blown away by the sea breeze.
Marine Headquarters Marineford.
The battle in the square has turned into a meat grinder.
The sound of ice breaking, swords clashing, artillery crackling, screams, roars, and footsteps. All the sounds mixed together and steamed up from the stone floor.
Akainu stood in the center of the square, his body became semi-elementary, and magma poured out from the shoulder, elbow, and knee joints and flowed on the surface of the body.
Orange-red light shines from inside the magma, and the stone slabs under your feet are baked until they turn black and crack.
His lips opened and closed, and his voice squeezed out from the cracks in the magma, spreading in all directions with the Heat air waves.
"Escape immediately after rescuing Ace."
Pulling up the corner of his mouth, a drop of magma overflowed from the crack in the corner of his mouth and fell on the stone slab, burning through a fist-sized hole.
"Whitebeard Pirates are really a bunch of cowards."
"But it's no wonder."
"Whitebeard is the loser of the last era after all."
Ace stopped and turned his head.
His black hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, and there was a wound on his cheek that was still bleeding.
The eyes were exposed from under the bangs, and the magma surging on Akainu's body was reflected in the pupils. "Whitebeard is the great pirate who created this era!"
The sound exploded from deep in the throat, and the vocal cords were torn to the limit.
Raising his right hand above his head, flames surged out from his shoulders, spread down his arms, gathered at his elbows, compressed his forearms, and exploded in his fists.
The orange-red fire was so bright that it turned white, so bright that the surrounding navy soldiers had to raise their arms to cover their eyes.
He rushed towards Akainu.
The flame fist and the magma fist collided in mid-air.
Rumble.
The shock wave exploded from the point of collision and swept in all directions.
The ice cracked, gravel flew, and the nearest row of navy soldiers was overturned by the air waves.
Flames and magma mixed together, orange and dark red entangled and rolled, rushing upward from the position where the fists collided, rushing up to a height of more than ten meters, and exploded into a mushroom cloud in mid-air.
Then the flames were consumed.
The magma pushed forward from the collision point, pushing the flame back bit by bit. Ace The entire right arm was wrapped in magma, and the smell of burning skin exploded.
His body flew backwards.
His back hit the ice, the ice cracked, and ice fragments flew from underneath him.
His right arm hung by his side, with burns all over from his shoulder to his wrist. The skin was charred and cracked, and transparent tissue fluid oozed from the cracks.
Akainu stepped forward and stood in front of Ace, with his head lowered. Magma dripped from his chin and fell on the ice on the side of Ace's face, making a sizzling sound.
"You'd be careless if you thought you were a nature type."
"You are nothing but fire."
He raised his right fist, and magma condensed on the surface of his fist.
Dark red light shines from inside, roasting the surrounding air until it becomes distorted.
"I am magma that can burn out fire."
The fists began to fall.
"Flame is the subordinate of magma." Ace's pupils reflected the growing fist.
Orange-red light fills the entire field of vision.
He couldn't move, all the strength in his body was shattered by the punch just now.
"You can never beat me."
The power condensed in the fist reached its peak.
"Oh."
A voice fell from the sky.
Calm and old, with an unmistakable look of condescension.
"I can't pretend that I didn't hear this."
Akainu's fist was hanging in the air, less than a punch away from Ace's face.
The magma heat wave has curled Ace's bangs, and the hair on his forehead smells burnt.
Akainu raised his head. Two people stood in the sky.
A tall, wide, white Haori unfolded in the wind, its clothes making a rustling sound.
Holding a cane in his hand, the wooden texture glowed dimly in the sunlight.
The other one stood half a step behind, with a thin figure, wearing Shinigami uniform, with a knife in his waist.
Two people stood in the air, with nothing under their feet.
Not Geppo, Geppo will explode air ripples under your feet.
They just stood there, the air holding the soles of their feet.
Akainu's brows furrowed.
His heart skipped a beat, and it was so heavy that he even felt it.
He suppressed the beating from his consciousness and gritted his teeth.
First kill Ace, and then deal with these two guys in the sky who appeared out of nowhere.
His eyes moved away from the sky and fell back on Ace. The fist exerted force again, and heat waves exploded on the surface of the magma.
Then he caught a shadow in the corner of his eye.
Ace's lower body turned into flames, and flames spurted out from his waist. He pushed his body and slid out of the ice, sliding out of the attack range just before Akainu's fist fell.
Boom.
Akainu His fist smashed into the ice, magma poured into the ice, and steam exploded all over the sky.
The white mist dispersed, and a pit with a diameter of five meters appeared on the ice. The ice water at the bottom of the pit had been burned dry.
Ace skated to the front of the Whitebeard Pirates team, with his lower body restored to human form, kneeling on the ice with his knees on the ice, his left hand supporting the ice, and his right arm hanging by his side.
His chest was rising and falling violently, and he was breathing heavily.
He's not dead.
Akainu's fist was pulled out of the ice pit.
Magma dripped from the fingers, burning a row of small holes in the ice.
He raised his head, all the veins on his neck popped out, and shouted at the two figures in the sky. "Who are you!"
The sound exploded over the square.
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni looked away from Akainu.
His eyes swept across the square, across the ice, across the white and black figures fighting, and across the general under the execution platform.
Finally, my eyes fell on Sengoku.
"I am from Soul Society."
The sound was not loud, but everyone in the square heard it.
It's not the forced coverage of a loudspeaker, it's the sound that finds its way to everyone's ears.
No matter where you stand, no matter how noisy the surroundings are, this sound comes through clearly.
"The identity is Shinigami."
The live broadcast signal sent this sentence to the whole world simultaneously.
Sabaody Archipelago port, Water 7 shipyard, Alabasta desert, Skypiea clouds, Fish-Man Island deep sea. Everyone who watched the live broadcast of the execution heard this sentence.
Sabaody Archipelago port.
The crowd gathered under the cliff was quiet for a moment, and then exploded at the same time.
"Soul Society? Where?"
"Shinigami? What is Shinigami?"
"He said he is Shinigami? Isn't Shinigami something that can only be seen after death?"
"Where did these two people come from? How come they are standing in the sky?"
"So it's really Shinigami?"
"Stop joking, how could Shinigami appear in Marine Headquarters!"
"Soul Society...Soul Society... Have you ever heard of it?"
No one has heard of it.
Grand Line Maps of all islands, maps of all sea routes, and distribution maps of all known civilization languages. There is no place like Soul Society, and there is no profession like Shinigami.
These two words came out of Yamamoto's mouth and fell cleanly into the air of this world. There is no history to trace back and no legend to compare.
Brand new.
Marine Headquarters.
Akainu blew out a stream of hot air from its nostrils.
"Soul Society? Shinigami?"
The corners of his mouth were pulled open, and magma spilled out of the cracks.
"I don't know what it means."
He raised his right fist, and the magma in his arm began to concentrate on his fist.
The volume of the fist expands, the temperature rises, and the surface color changes from dark red to orange, and from orange to bright yellow.
"Hell Hound."
The huge magma fist detached from Akainu's arm. The air was burned through, and the water in the path of the magma fist evaporated instantly, leaving a transparent vacuum channel.
Heat waves rolled from both sides of the passage, and the nearest navy soldier was so burned that he stepped back.
Yamamoto Release the left hand of the crutch.
The wood of the crutch was split in the middle, the wooden texture was stretched from the inside, and the fragments peeled off in all directions, revealing the contents wrapped inside.
A knife.
Yamamoto Hold the handle of the knife with your right hand.
The moment the tiger's mouth pressed against the handle of the knife, the scabbard vibrated slightly.
He drew his sword.
Pull out an inch.
"Torch."
Flames gush out from the gap in the scabbard.
From the gap that was only an inch wide between the scabbard and the blade, the flames sprayed out in a fan shape. The flames spread in mid-air, forming a tsunami.
The waves rolled up and pressed down on the magma fist of Akainu.
Hell Hound hits Torch.
The moment the magma fist rushed into the flames, the bright yellow layer on the surface began to peel off.
Magma cools from the outside in, turning from dark red to black.
The surface of the black rock shell cracked, and golden light shone through the cracks.
Then it broke.
The magma fist disintegrated in the golden flames, shattered into fist-sized rock blocks, and shattered into powder.
The powder continued to burn in the flames until no ashes were left.
The flames dissipated, and the heat waves remaining in the air distorted the vision. From where Yamamoto was standing to where Akainu was standing, straight ravines were burned out on the ice.
The ice water in the gully has been burned dry, exposing the black seafloor rocks below.
The surface of the rock is covered with a layer of vitrified material, which is formed after the sand and gravel are instantly melted and cooled. Yamamoto stood on the same spot, with the knife retracted into its sheath.
One inch, pulled out, then taken back.
From drawing out the sword to putting it away, the distance is as short as Akainu, and Hell Hound has not even flown ten meters.
The right hand is still holding the handle of the knife, and the tiger's mouth is close to the dark purple handle.
The wooden texture on the scabbard glows dimly in the sunlight.
"It's just magma."
The sound fell from above and landed on Akainu's head.
"Stop being so arrogant, kid."
The square was quiet.
All sounds stopped at this moment.
Everyone in the square stopped what they were doing and stared at the old man holding the knife in the sky.
"Hey, hey, hey." Kizaru stood under the execution platform, his eyes widening behind his sunglasses.
His lips moved and sounds escaped from the corners of his mouth.
"You're kidding, that's Hell Hound from Akainu."
"It's so scary."
Aokiji was standing next to him, with a very thin layer of water on his forehead.
He is a person with Ice-Ice Fruit ability. His body is made of ice and he never sweats, but there is indeed a glimmer of water on his forehead at the moment.
It was the sudden surge in temperature in the air and the water droplets that condensed on the surface of his cold skin.
"This is a really scary guy."
The sound is extremely low, so low that only Kizaru around you can hear it.
"Shinigami?"
He is more sensitive to temperature than anyone else here.
He knew better than anyone how high the temperature of the golden flame that burst out just now was. That was not a temperature that Flame-Flame Fruit could reach, nor a temperature that Mag-Mag Fruit could reach. It was on another level.
On the execution platform.
Navy Commander Sengoku placed his hands on the railings of the execution platform.
Observation Haki immediately spread out and looked towards the two people in the sky.
Then his Haki hit something.
The two people's bodies were surrounded by a layer of aura that he could not analyze at all. The moment Haki encountered that layer of aura, only one message was transmitted back.
One hundred thousand meters.
Thickness and weight.
He was standing there alone, with a mountain of 100,000 meters high behind him.
That sense of oppression does not emanate from the other person's body, but naturally seeps out from the other person's shadow and breath.
Sengoku has seen many strong people.
Whitebeard, Roger, Garp, Golden Lion, Rocks. He has seen all the names standing at the top and fought against them all.
But no one has ever given him this feeling.
It's not a matter of being strong or not, it's something else.
The ground the opponent is standing on is not at the same height as them.
"Garp."
Sengoku's voice came out from between his teeth.
"Stop pretending to be dead."
Under the execution platform, inside the collapsed wooden frame, a hand stretched out from the pile of broken wood.
Support the ground with your palms, exert force on your arms, and sit up from the sawdust and wood chips with your upper body.
His short white hair was stained with sawdust, and his navy uniform was covered in gray.
Monchi·d·Garp.
He pushed aside the broken wooden boards on his shoulders, patted the dust on his uniform, and stood up from the pile of wood. He moved his neck, and his cervical vertebrae made a clicking sound.
He raised his head and his eyes fell on the two figures in the sky. Then he frowned.
Garp rarely wrinkles his brows. He never wrinkles when he faces Rocks, and he never wrinkles when he faces Roger.
"Hello, Sengoku."
His voice rarely sounded serious.
"These two guys are a bit scary."
Sengoku made a very low sound from his throat.
Garp continued talking without looking away from Yamamoto.
"I didn't feel this way when I fought Rocks, and I didn't feel this way when I fought Roger."
He took his hands out of his uniform pockets.
"What are the backgrounds of these two people..."
Sengoku Take a deep breath, expand the chest, pour the air into the lungs, and then push it out of the throat, bringing the sound with it. "Shinigami."
The sound spread through the loudspeaker throughout the square, throughout Sabaody Archipelago, and throughout the world.
"What is your purpose here."
"Stop our war."
Sengoku Think on the premise that the other party is not lying.
It's not trust, it's that the other party has absolutely no need to lie.
Hell Hound, who can burn Akainu with one knife, can make him and Garp feel oppressed at the same time. This kind of person does not need to lie.
Since I call myself Shinigami, I will temporarily use this identity as my pretext.
Shinigami, the person in charge of death.
To prevent deaths caused by war, this inference is the most direct.
Yamamoto's eyes fell on Sengoku's face.
"No." "I am not interested in your war."
People who emerge from the sea of blood from the mountain of corpses will not give a second glance to the meat grinder below.
He has lost count of how many people he killed in Soul Society.
War is war and death is death.
And he came here because of something more serious than war.
"In your world."
"Someone has joined forces with Hell."
The loudspeaker sent these words to every ear in the world that was listening to the live broadcast.
Sengoku released his hand from the railing, spread his fingers, lifted his palm away from the surface of the wood, and then clenched it again, leaving ten fingerprints on the wood of the railing.
Garp Pupillary contraction.
"Hell."
Sengoku's voice changed. "Join hands."
The sounds of Garp and Sengoku overlap.
The two spoke at the same time, stopped at the same time, and fixed their gazes on Yamamoto's face.
The people in the square didn't quite understand this sentence.
Shinigami, Hell, join forces.
These words strung together exceed their understanding of the world.
But Sengoku understood it, Garp understood it.
Because they saw the look in Yamamoto's eyes when he said this.
That look was not a threat or intimidation.
It is describing something that has happened and is going on that is much more serious than the war at hand.
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni stood in the air, holding the hilt of the Zanpakutō in his right hand.
The flame in the scabbard is still breathing. "Shinigami."
Sengoku Press your palms on the railing of the execution platform again.
"What do you mean when you say someone joined forces with Hell."
The sound came out through the loudspeaker, circled around the square, and fell into everyone's ears.
His tone did not change, and he still felt the same frustration as when the navy commander issued an order.
Sengoku went through the words spoken by the other party one by one in his mind.
Soul Society, Shinigami, Hell, join forces.
Each word alone is ridiculous enough, but when strung together it is even more like crazy.
But the man standing in the sky just burned Akainu and Hell Hound with one knife.
That kind of flame, that kind of temperature, that kind of flame coming out of the scabbard.
It's not something a devil fruit can do.
And that white Haori. Sengoku noticed that it was not a cloak, not a coat of justice, but some kind of standard clothing, all with the regularity that had settled over a long period of time.
A person can make up the origin, but he cannot make up the time spent on a piece of clothing.
That organization has existed for so long that even the tailoring of clothes has become a tradition.
The other party is less likely to lie.
Garp stood under the execution platform, with his hands folded across his chest, and his short white hair was still stained with sawdust, which he had not patted off.
His eyes were fixed on Yamamoto, and the light in his pupils was a few degrees darker than usual.
He has seen the devil.
Not a metaphor, not a rhetoric, a real devil.
The kind of thing that broke out in God Valley, Rocks·d·Gibek back then.
It's not Haki, it's not a fruit ability, it's another kind of power.
Black and sticky substance gushed out from Rocks's body and flowed on the surface of the skin.
Rocks's eyes changed at that time, the pupils shrank to pinpoints, and the irises turned an ominous dark red. Garp's teeth clenched, the mandibular muscles tensed, and from the base of the ears to the chin, a hard edge protruded from under the skin.
No one left the square.
The navy didn't move, and neither did the pirates.
Whitebeard Pirates The crew member stood on the ice, still holding the knife, but the tip of the knife was hanging down.
Ace was kneeling on the ice, holding the ice with his left hand, his burned right arm hanging by his side, and his chest was still heaving violently.
But he raised his head, looking past the white uniforms on the square and landing on the old man holding the knife in the sky.
They are waiting.
Wait for the old man who calls himself Shinigami to finish speaking.
Yamamoto's eyes swept across the square.
Sweep from the execution platform to the harbor, sweep from the navy to pirates, sweep from a hundred thousand troops to the Whitebeard Pirates fleet.
His eyes moved very slowly, and every time he scanned an area, the sound in that area dropped by one degree.
Finally, his eyes stopped on Sengoku's face. "In your world."
"Someone has joined forces with Hell to continue causing death."
This sentence was sent to every ear in the world who was listening to the live broadcast.
Sabaody Archipelago port, Water 7, Alabasta...
Everyone standing in front of the big screen stopped talking.
"The soul after death will be absorbed by Hell."
"Become the sand, the stone within."
He paused for a moment, not to organize his words, but to let the words he just said sink in.
It sank into the chest of every person in the square, and into every pair of eyes around the world staring at the big screen.
"I came here this time just to kill this demon who cooperated with Hell."
That's it.
After the sound from the loudspeaker disappeared, there was a few breaths of blankness in the square. Only the sea breeze poured in from outside the harbor, blowing the naval flag on the execution platform.
Yamamoto said no more.
There is no demon that joins hands with Hell to create death.
He began to sense the first day he came to this world. Reishi seeped out from his body and formed a network, covering Sabaody Archipelago, covering the nearby sea area, and then extending further away.
He is looking for the power of Hell, the same aura as the black mist pouring out of Three Realms Gates of Hell.
Then he found it.
Not in Marine Headquarters, not in Sabaody Archipelago, not in any sea area of Grand Line.
In that direction, Red Line is at its highest point.
There is something there, the surface is covered with the aura of the normal world, but at the deepest point, at the core of the layers of wrapping, there is a trace of very faint black.
The black color is exactly the same as the black mist pouring out of Gates of Hell.
So he wants to give people in this world a chance to understand.
Give it to the pirates who represent crime, to the navy who represents justice, to World Government who represents Nobles, and to every force, every country, and every person living on every island in this sea. Give them a chance to stand on the stage.
He doesn't have the time to take it slow like Yan Si.
Yan Si will take several years, more than ten years, and decades to lay out, penetrate, and let everyone walk to the arranged position without knowing it.
Yamamoto No, never.
He dragged everyone up, poured all the information into them, and then watched them make their own choices.
It doesn't matter whether they can understand it or whether they are willing to come on stage.
After he gets rid of the guy with the power of Hell, he can just ask them to send someone to look at the seal of Gates of Hell.
But people in this world need to know what's going on.
Sabaody Archipelago port.
The first person in the crowd to break the silence was a middle-aged man wearing a headscarf.
In my hand, I was still holding the grilled squid I bought while watching the live broadcast of the execution. The squid on the bamboo skewers had cooled down, and the sauce had condensed into a dark brown shell.
"Is there a soul after death?" "Will you still play Hell?"
The woman holding the child next to her took half a step back. The child was still chewing her fingers, saliva dripping down her chin and onto her collar. She pulled the child's fingers out of her mouth.
"Last time I stole someone's dollar..."
A young man squatted on the wooden box, holding his knees with his hands, and his voice became smaller and smaller.
"You can't play Hell."
Such conversations are happening simultaneously in every corner of the world.
Grand Line, New World, Sihai, Red Line on both sides.
Every island, every town, in front of every big screen.
People are asking the same questions.
Does a person have a soul after death? Will the soul give birth to Hell? What does Hell look like?
No one can answer, but everyone is asking.
And in the deepest part of these problems, a name is being dug out from the memory of the strong. Charlotte Lingling, big mom.
One of the pirate emperors, Soul-Soul Fruit ability user.
She can extract souls from living people, insert souls into dead objects to create Homiz, and use the power of her soul to control weather, fire, and waves.
She has been running rampant on the sea for decades, and many people are aware of her abilities.
Since the soul really exists, it is not surprising that Hell exists.
This inference popped up in many people's minds at the same time.
Because in this world, the soul is never a legend, it is something visible and tangible.
Homies from big mom ran all over the cake island, singing and dancing, and the people whose souls were taken away lay on the ground and turned into empty shells.
If the soul is real, then Shinigami is real.
Hell is also true.
On the square.
Akainu A low sound came out of the throat the Roar. "Humph."
"That's nonsense."
"What Hell, what soul."
He raised his right hand above his head, and lava began to surge upwards from his arm.
Magma expands in volume and increases in temperature.
This time he didn't condense the magma into a fist.
Magma gushes out from the arms and spreads in mid-air, forming a magma ocean.
The dark red magma sea surges in mid-air, and its edges continue to expand.
Ten meters, twenty meters, fifty meters.
The area of the magma sea is getting bigger and bigger, covering most of the sky above the square.
Orange-red light shines through from the bottom, turning everyone's faces an unhealthy red.
"I just want to wipe out all the pirates." The center of the magma sea began to sink.
Change from a flat surface to a funnel shape, with the center of the funnel aligned with where Yamamoto is standing.
The magma rotates along the inner wall of the funnel, spinning faster and faster.
The wind caused by the rotation pulled all the flags in the square in the same direction.
"Great Eruption."
This time Akainu put 120% of its power into it.
The volume of the magma sea expanded again, and the edge expanded from fifty meters to one hundred meters.
The temperature in the center of the funnel is so high that the color of the magma itself changes, from orange-red to bright yellow, and from bright yellow to white.
Then it falls.
The magma sea funnel fell from the sky and fell towards Yamamoto's head.
The air was burned through, making a shrill scream.
The heat wave rolled from the edge, and the nearest navy soldier was so burned that he fell to the ground. Yamamoto's eyes did not look at Akainu.
I didn't watch it from beginning to end, my eyes still stayed on Sengoku's face.
To him, the sea of magma falling from the sky is no different from falling raindrops.
Hold the hilt of the Zanpakutō in your right hand.
The tiger's mouth is attached to the root of the handle, and the five fingers are gathered together to wrap the entire dark purple handle into the palm of the hand.
He pulled out the knife.
"Ryūjin Jakka."
Flames gush out from the blade and begin to expand.
With Yamamoto's right hand holding the knife as the center, the flames spread out in all directions, pouring out from around the body.
The sky above the square was filled with flames.
Akainu's magma sea is still falling, but the speed is getting slower and slower.
The magma seafloor contacts the outermost layer of the flame, and the magma at the contact surface instantly changes from white to yellow. The surface of the dark red magma cracks, the cracks extend to the depths, and golden light pours out of the cracks.
Then that piece of magma evaporates and turns directly from magma to gas.
The dark red rock shell didn't even last a breath in the golden flames. It jumped directly from the solid state to the liquid state and turned into white steam.
The steam continues to be heated in the flame, changing from white to transparent, and then disappears.
The flames continued to spread upward, drilling into the magma seafloor and climbing up the inner wall of the funnel.
Wherever the flames spread, the magma evaporated.
The dark red magma turned into white mist, and the white mist was swallowed up by the flames, leaving no trace.
Akainu stood on the ice, with his right arm still raised in the air.
His eyes widened, and his pupils reflected the sea of magma that was being swallowed by flames from the inside.
His arms were shaking, from his shoulders to his fingertips.
It's not because of fear, it's because the magma on his right arm is flowing back uncontrollably.
The golden flame climbed along the inner wall of the magma sea funnel to the top, and then rolled out from the top, covering the entire magma sea. The sea surface began to boil.
The seawater in the harbor bubbles from the edge, and the bubbles rise from the bottom and explode on the surface, releasing clouds of white mist.
The steam came out more and more, becoming thicker and thicker, spreading from the edge of the harbor to the center.
The water level was falling, and white mist formed on the water, covering the entire harbor.
Ace was kneeling on the ice, his burned right arm hanging by his side.
But his head was raised, his neck was bent back to the extreme, and his pupils reflected the flames that filled the sky.
Open your mouth.
"So... so awesome."
He is a user with Flame-Flame Fruit ability, and he himself is a flame.
He had seen the hottest fire he had released, and had seen the flames explode from his fists and light up the entire night sky.
But he never thought the flames could reach this level.
"It's terrible." The voice came from behind Ace.
Marco stood a few steps behind him, his arms turning into blue flame wings.
The Phoenix's flames, the flames of regeneration, are completely different from ordinary flames.
But at this moment, his blue flame wings were shrinking back unconsciously, and the edges of the wings trembled slightly under the golden firelight.
"If this guy keeps doing this."
The sound was very low, so low that only Vista and Jozu could hear it.
"Sooner or later the sea will evaporate."
Ace turned his head, looking away from the golden flames in the sky and landing on the harbor sea.
The sea water is boiling, white mist rises from the water, is blown away by the sea breeze, and new mist comes up again.
The steam turned into fog, and the fog became thicker and thicker, spreading from the harbor to farther out to sea.
"This is not possible."
A sound exploded from the ice. Straw Hat Luffy jumped up from the ice behind Ace.
The rubber body was elongated, bouncing from the ground into the air, and its hands were waving wildly above its head.
The string of the straw hat held her chin, and the brim of the hat cast a swaying shadow on her face.
"How can I sail when the sea water has completely evaporated?"
The sound was so loud that all the navy in the square turned their heads.
He didn't care at all, he put his hands on his mouth to make a trumpet, and shouted at the figure surrounded by golden flames in the sky.
"Old man!"
"Can you please stop evaporating the sea water?"
Yamamoto holds Ryūjin Jakka and stands in the center of the flame.
Flames poured out from the blade in his hand, from around his body, filling the entire sky.
But there was no flame on him.
The white Haori rustled in the heat wave, and the hem of his clothes was lifted by the wind, revealing the Shinigami uniform underneath. He ignored Luffy's shout below and continued to speak.
"Hell will invade the world."
The sound penetrated the flames and fell into every ear in the world.
"If you continue, your world will lose everything, and all life will cease to exist."
The flames spread behind them, burning the entire sky into a color between day and dusk.
His figure stood in the center of the flames, illuminated from behind by golden light, with a very thin halo around the edges of his silhouette.
"So."
"It's up to you to decide whether you want to fight the devil with me or not."
Sengoku released his hand from the railing, his palm slid down from the railing, hanging by his side, and his lips moved.
"Who is that devil?"
It's not the commander-in-chief's tone, it's Sengoku himself who is asking.
Yamamoto Lift the tip of the Ryūjin Jakka knife, and the flame on the blade adjusts its direction as the tip moves. The flames begin to converge from the state of covering the sky, gather in the direction pointed by the tip of the knife, and condense into a very bright point in front.
The tip of the knife points to Red Line.
Pointing to the direction where the red rock wall rises from the sea, so high that the clouds are cut off halfway up it.
Point to Empty Throne.
"Enemy."
The voice of Yamamoto fell.
"There."
After saying this, he stepped on the air with his soles.
The air rippled under the feet, and the ripples spread around and disappeared into the flames.
He rushed in the direction of Mary Geoise.
It's not fast, it's not the kind of movement like Flash Step that disappears in an instant.
He was walking, step by step in the sky. With each step he took, the air rippled under his feet.
Golden flames followed behind him, pouring out from around his body and dragging a burning river in the sky.
Sasakibe Follow up.
Put your right hand on the handle of the knife at your waist and lean forward slightly.
Thunder and lightning burst out from the body, and the golden thunder light split a channel in the river of flames behind Yamamoto, wrapped around the body, and pushed forward.
A burning river, a golden thunder and lightning.
Two tracks passed over Marine Headquarters Square and extended in the direction of Red Line.
On the execution platform, Den Den Mushi rang.
Brululu.
Sengoku's hand is still hanging by his side.
Den Den Mushi The shell vibrated in the pocket on his waist and made a dull ringing sound that could not be ignored. He did not move.
Bruululu. Garp frowned.
Brululu.
Sengoku reached into his pocket and took out Den Den Mushi.
The small snail shell vibrated in the palm of my hand, and the lines on the shell were pointed at him along with Den Den Mushi's eyes.
Press the connect button.
The sound coming from Den Den Mushi's mouth is very sharp.
It's not one person's voice, it's several layers of voices stacked together.
Someone was yelling, someone was banging the table, someone was walking back and forth, and their soles made a rapid clicking sound on the marble floor.
These sounds came from the Mary Geoise hall of power and were simulated by Den Den Mushi, becoming shrill and harsh.
"Sengoku! Stop him immediately!"
"No matter what method!"
"All your combat power! Send all your combat power up!" "You can't let him get close to Holy Land! Absolutely not!"
Sengoku Silence.
Den Den Mushi continued to vibrate in the palm of his hand, and sharp sounds continued to pour out of Den Den Mushi's mouth.
He looked at the two tracks in the sky extending towards Red Line, the burning river and the golden thunder and lightning.
"Asshole."
The voice of Garp exploded from the side.
He raised his hand and slapped Sengoku on the back of the head.
The sound was so loud that all the navy soldiers under the execution platform turned their heads.
"We should evacuate Sabaody Archipelago's people now!"
"That guy Shinuchi get up, no one on the island will survive!"
Sabaody Archipelago is at the feet of Red Line and directly below Mary Geoise.
If the old man who calls himself Shinigami really takes action on Holy Land, if that kind of flame falls from the sky, everything on Sabaody Archipelago will be burned into gas. It's not an exaggeration, everyone saw the flame that filled the sky just now.
With that kind of temperature and that kind of amount, as long as a small piece falls on the island, the entire island will disappear from the sea.
Sengoku Pupillary contraction.
"Yes."
Turn around and bend towards the loudspeaker under the execution platform.
The sound was pushed out from the throat and blasted through the loudspeaker throughout the square.
"All warships, go to Sabaody Archipelago immediately to evacuate the people!"
He raised his head and glanced at the white uniforms on the square.
"All!"
Looking across the ice in the square, he landed on the Whitebeard Pirates fleet.
Take a deep breath and expand your chest to its maximum size.
"You." The voice hit those black sails.
"Get out of here quickly."
Ace stood up from the ice.
His right arm was still hanging by his side, his left hand supported the ice, his knees were raised, and his body stood upright little by little.
"Bullshit."
The sound came out from clenched teeth.
Turn around and take steps in the direction of Moby Dick.
When my feet stepped on the ice, the thin ice was broken, and the ice particles splashed on my ankles.
After taking two steps and shaking his body, Marco reached out from the side to hold his shoulders.
He pushed the hand away and continued walking.
Walk to the side of the boat, grab the rope on the side of the boat with your left hand, circle it with your fingers, and tighten it.
He stepped on the planks of the ship's hull and climbed up. He climbed to the deck, turned around, and faced the dazed crew members in the square.
"We're going to help evacuate too!"
"Whitebeard Pirates!"
The left hand was raised above the head and clenched into a fist.
"Go to Sabaody Archipelago!"
"Oh!"
The deck of the Moby Dick exploded in response.
Vista drew out his two swords, with the sword tips pointing in the direction of Sabaody Archipelago.
Jozu turned his arms into diamonds and pushed all the lifeboats tied to the side of the ship into the water.
Marco transformed into the form of a phoenix, with cyan flame wings spread above the deck, sending a signal to the fleet.
Whitebeard Pirates fleet begins to turn.
Dozens of ships, large and small, all turned their bows from the direction of Marine Headquarters, aiming at Sabaody Archipelago. The sails were full of wind, the canvas was bulging, the ropes were tightened, the hull broke through the boiling sea water, and headed towards the island at the foot of Red Line.
Behind him, the navy warship also began to turn.
The white sails were raised side by side, and the seagull logo on the bow glowed orange under the firelight.
The warships formed a column and sailed out of the harbor.
In the square, on the ice, in the harbor.
The white sail and the black sail sailed to the same island at the same time.