Boom! Boom!
Boom! Outside the royal palace, the ruins were a complete mess.
The chaotic four-way battle between the Marines, the Donquixote Family, the Whitebeard Pirates, and the Straw Hat Crew was gradually nearing its end.
"Pica, Baby 5, Señor..."
Vergo lay in a pool of blood, barely clinging to life as his exhausted gaze swept over the wreckage around him.
His companions were either dead or wounded. Even the Marines, who shared a common enemy with them, would not offer them any aid.
Meanwhile, the Straw Hat Crew and the Whitebeard Pirates had unleashed one powerful figure after another upon the battlefield, beating the Marines back step by step.
A desperate sense of helplessness rose in Vergo's heart. Every bone in his body had been shattered; he could no longer fight.
At this point, how could he not understand? No reinforcements were coming for them.
"Come to your senses, cough... cough cough!"
"...Sorry, Doffy."
Vergo struggled to turn over, staring wearily at the sky as he murmured, "So the Donquixote Family had ceased to exist from that moment onward."
"And we were merely a group of walking corpses controlled by hatred." Vergo gave a bitter, self-mocking smile.
When he closed his eyes, faces surfaced in his mind—the members who had gradually joined the family since its founding.
The foolish woman who would risk her life to help anyone who begged for aid; the perverted gentleman who still wore an ill-fitting baby outfit; the sisters who always held grapes and dreamed of becoming birds...
Every member who had been saved from a miserable fate and joined the family in loyalty.
"Vergo!"
Gladius hurriedly leaped over, crouching down and trying to help him up. "How is it? Can you still move?"
"Leave me, Gladius."
Vergo's voice was hoarse as he weakly