Fish Skin

"That wasn't all," Momonga continued.

"After I lost consciousness, according to Rear Admiral Yuma, two Sea Kings appeared in front of the warship. They did not attack, only blocked the warship's path.

"Both Sea Kings had the same blood-red tomoe eyes as that boy before, and were suspected of being under his control."

"He can even control Sea Kings? It seems his mental abilities have reached an unimaginable level!"

Sengoku nodded. He knew that Shirahoshi, the mermaid princess of Fish-Man Island, possessed the ability to communicate with Sea Kings.

It seemed there was now another person in this world with that ability!

"After I woke up, the Empress's pirate ship was already close to the warship. On board, I saw that boy and his clansmen.

"They called themselves the Uchiha Clan. Their numbers are unknown, but at least the dozen or so people who appeared on the ship possessed remarkable presences.

"They seemed to have reached some kind of agreement with the Empress and were temporarily staying on Kuja Island.

"When they passed the Sabaody Archipelago, all of them disembarked and went ashore. Every one of them was capable of walking on the sea.

"After one of them came ashore, he also spewed forth a dragon of flame and instantly killed Bone Crusher Bard, a pirate with a 60-million bounty."

After Vice Admiral Momonga finished his report, he stood still and waited for Sengoku's next instructions.

"Walking on the sea, flame manipulation, powerful mental attacks."

Staff Officer Tsuru quietly listed those key points. It seemed some extraordinary clan had emerged on the seas once again.

"These abilities do not belong to any known Devil Fruit power system. There has never been a case in history of an entire group awakening such powerful abilities of the same origin."

"What is their objective?"

Sengoku asked in a deep voice, closing the document he had been reading.

This showed how seriously he regarded the matter.

"According to their leader, they merely wanted to go out to sea and see the world."

Momonga replied, "But I believe allowing this group of people of unknown origin to set foot on the Sabaody Archipelago may cause some unforeseen destruction."

That was also why Vice Admiral Momonga had reported it immediately.

No one knew what such a group of powerful individuals gathered together might do. They had to make foolproof preparations in advance.

The temperature in the office seemed to drop several degrees.

"Celestial Dragons..."

Sengoku's gaze turned completely cold.

What kind of place was the Sabaody Archipelago?

It was the Celestial Dragons' backyard, the face of the World Government, and lay right next to Holy Land Mary Geoise.

Nobles from all over the world and Celestial Dragons spent their time there year-round.

If this group of powerful people of unknown origin caused any trouble in Sabaody—

Or even came into conflict with the Celestial Dragons—

It would be an unimaginable disaster.

A political disaster, a military disaster, and a disaster that would shake the order of the entire world.

"Are they in Sabaody now?"

Sengoku's voice had taken on the unmistakable tone of an order.

"Yes. They landed about half a day ago. Their current whereabouts are unknown."

Sengoku hesitated no longer. He grabbed the special Den Den Mushi on the desk, bearing a golden seagull emblem.

This was the emergency line directly connected to the Admirals.

The Den Den Mushi was quickly connected, taking on a stern, cold, sharply defined face with a prominent scar on its right cheek.

"Sakazuki."

Fleet Admiral Sengoku's voice brooked no doubt. Every word was like a hammer driving a nail.

"Immediately suspend all tasks at hand and proceed to the Sabaody Archipelago at top speed."

There was a second of silence from the other end before Akainu Sakazuki's voice came through, filled with an absolute sense of power.

It was like magma surging beneath thick layers of stone. "The reason?"

"An unknown force, the Uchiha Clan, has appeared on Kuja Island. They are powerful, and all of them have currently landed on the Sabaody Archipelago."

Sengoku's report was as concise as possible. "Momonga was defeated by one of their youths. Preliminary assessment: this clan possesses flame and mental powers and poses an extremely high threat."

He paused, stressing his next words.

"I will not allow them to create any destabilizing factors in Sabaody, especially in areas where Celestial Dragons may appear.

"Your mission is to monitor them, deter them, and, if necessary, use every means available to bring the situation under control.

"Your top priority is to ensure Sabaody's absolute stability and prevent any incident that might draw the Celestial Dragons' attention or provoke a conflict."

"Uchiha?"

Akainu's voice betrayed no emotion, but the scorching presence seemed to carry through the Den Den Mushi:

"Understood. I'm currently at the G-14 branch. I'll reach Sabaody within two hours."

"Stay in contact and report at all times. Remember, until we ascertain their true intentions and background, avoid an all-out conflict if possible. But if the situation spirals out of control..."

A sharp glint flashed through Sengoku's eyes. "Prioritize maintaining the World Government's stability above all else."

"Justice will not tolerate any hidden danger."

Akainu's voice was resolute. The call ended immediately afterward.

After setting down the Den Den Mushi, Sengoku's expression finally improved somewhat.

As one of the Navy's foremost combat forces, Akainu possessed Admiral-level absolute strength, enough to handle the vast majority of unexpected situations.

Other than the Four Emperors, Sengoku could not think of anyone capable of stopping Akainu.

Sabaody Archipelago, Auction House.

Only after all the nobles had left and the venue was occupied solely by cleaning staff and security personnel did Uchiha Shisui slowly rise to his feet.

Other than using the Sharingan to briefly control the Guard Captain for an instant, allowing Scarface to successfully kill him in return—

Shisui did not intervene again throughout the entire process.

Nor did he intend to continue interfering.

By the time Uchiha Shisui stepped out of the Auction House, the sun had already begun to slant westward.

Sabaody's afternoon was painted in bizarre, dreamlike colors by countless rising bubbles.

The air was thick with the sweet scent of resin, the oily smoke of food, the briny tang of the sea breeze, and a faint, almost imperceptible smell of blood.

He walked unhurriedly, his black eyes calmly sweeping over the dazzling shops on either side.

Tourists riding bubble cars whizzed past him, making everything seem so fantastical.

The splendor and distortion of this world gave Shisui, newly arrived here, an unprecedented sensation.

What a truly sick world.

After crossing two blocks, the clamor grew louder.

An open space at the base of a Red Tree ahead was packed with people, ring after ring.

Cheers, whistles, and an indescribable droning that mingled excitement with cruelty continuously rose from within the wall of bodies.

Shisui had no interest in joining the spectacle.

But just as he was about to go around, an extremely faint yet strangely familiar scent of blood mixed with burnt flesh and fishiness entered his nose.

His steps paused slightly.

Though his Sharingan was inactive, his senses as a top-tier ninja remained.

That smell came from the three Fishman Boys from the Auction House earlier.

He was silent for a moment, then changed direction and headed toward the crowd.

Most of the onlookers were visibly excited, standing on tiptoe to peer inside.

No one noticed how easily the calm, black-clad young man slipped through the outermost ring of people and reached the inner circle.

A section of the open ground had been cleared, resembling a crude execution ground.

At its center, the obese Celestial Dragon, Saint Charlos, sat on the edge of his excessively luxurious sedan chair.

His short legs swung back and forth, and beneath the glass dome, his face was lit up with the delighted smile of a child.

He toyed with a brand-new short gun inlaid with sapphires, its muzzle still trailing faint blue smoke.

Before him was hell.

Scarface, the Pirate Captain, knelt on the ground.

No, it could no longer be called kneeling.

Both his legs had been severed cleanly below the knees. The stumps had been crudely cauterized with red-hot branding irons, leaving them charred black.

The bleeding had barely been stopped, but any possibility of regeneration had been completely destroyed.

A crooked character for "bug" had been carved into his chest, already covered in old and fresh scars, with a sharp blade. It was cut so deeply that bone could be seen.

Scarface hung his head, his eyes unfocused. Only breath left his body; none entered. His life was like a candle guttering in the wind.

And not far beside him—

Amamiya.

The headless body of the former West Sea General lay sprawled on the ground.

The severed neck was charred black and stained with mottled blood. It was clearly the result of his collar exploding.

His head was no longer recognizable.

The stolen longsword had snapped into several pieces, scattered nearby.

Farther away, young Gal and another pirate lay in pools of blood, their bodies riddled with bullet holes and sword wounds. They had long since stopped breathing.

But the most horrifying sight was the three Fishman Boys.

They had not been killed.

At least, not completely.

Yet death would have been better.

Because they had been skinned alive.

From head to toe, their entire skins had been peeled off intact.

Like three sheets of fish skin, they were casually hung on a wooden rack nearby.

The Fishmen's formidable vitality became the cruelest torture at that moment, leaving them with a shred of consciousness to endure agony like death by a thousand cuts.

The air was thick with an overpowering stench of blood.

Among the watching crowd, some pointed excitedly, while others had pale faces yet could not bear to look away.

More wore numb expressions.

As though they had long grown accustomed to such things.

Saint Charlos was very pleased with his handiwork.

He giggled and pointed his short gun at the three Fishman skins hanging from the rack.

"Look, what beautiful colors! Like coral! I shall take them back and turn them into lampshades. They'll definitely look wonderful at night!"

The Black-Clad Bodyguards beside him remained expressionless, like statues.

Several men in White Uniforms, clearly professional Executioners, stood respectfully with their hands lowered, waiting for the next command.

At the sight of their miserable state, Shisui's Sharingan opened of its own accord, its cold gaze fixed on the Celestial Dragon in the arena.

Were these the rulers of this world?

Why did people like this exist in this world?

Scarface seemed to sense something. His unfocused eyes turned with difficulty.

In the end, they settled on the black-clad young man at the edge of the crowd.

When he saw Shisui's cold, blood-red eyes, the ash-gray depths of Scarface's gaze suddenly erupted with one final flicker of light.

He remembered it—the Guard Captain's fatal moment of stiffness at the Auction House.

That had not been his own sudden realization.

That flash of red he had seen in his enemy's eyes.

It was these eyes!

This person had helped him back then!

"Cough... huff..."

Scarface used the last of his strength to try to raise his mangled, bloody arm, his throat producing a sound like a broken bellows.

He looked at Shisui. There was no pleading in his eyes, no resentment.

Only the pure obsession of a dying beast.