Time Stolen

Whether elegance or courtesy, they were all carefully crafted disguises Valentine wore.

He did not care about his crew's lives at all. The only thing on his mind was how to achieve his goal.

Until then, everything that had happened had remained within his expectations. He did not believe anything had slipped beyond his control.

So whether Nereus appeared before him or his crew members were killed, Valentine still acted relaxed.

But after Valentine dragged Nereus into the water, events gradually began slipping out of his control, filling him with a sense of dread.

"Impossible! This is absolutely impossible! Devil Fruit users are hated by the sea. No matter how strong they are, once they are fully submerged, they lose their strength!

"It's fake! It's all fake! Right... that's it... Vampire can hypnotize people. I must have fallen under your illusion... As long as I break free of your hypnosis, I'll still be the victor!"

The expression on Valentine's face gradually changed from calm composure into something nearly crazed.

Sweat kept seeping from Valentine's forehead and running down his face. The seawater surrounding him no longer felt cool and comfortable, but instead carried a bone-deep chill.

The feeling of things slipping beyond his control made Valentine deeply uneasy, and he could only barely soothe the panic in his heart by constantly convincing himself otherwise.

If Nereus, as a Devil Fruit user, truly did not fear the sea's curse—

Then for a human to knowingly move the battlefield into the depths of the ocean while facing a Fish-Man... even stupidity was too mild a word for it.

Bang!

Bang!

Valentine swung his fists with all his strength, viciously striking his own face as if he wanted to force himself awake from that false dreamscape of hypnosis through pain.

And this utterly unhinged display made Nereus lose all interest in him.

"What's wrong? Did your brain stop working the moment you saw something beyond your comprehension? Can you no longer believe reality?"

Nereus made no exaggerated or violent movement. He simply raised an arm and firmly gripped Valentine's throat.

"I'm also a Fish-Man. The innate ability granted by my fish species lets a special membrane naturally form over my body, shielding me from the sea's effects.

"You keep claiming to worship me, yet you didn't even investigate something like this?"

Nereus even felt that Valentine's behavior qualified him as a "fake fan," not even as good as those illegitimate children.

After all, when those people went mad, they could actually accomplish things.

The Fishman Race all possessed abilities tied to their respective fish species. Though many Fish-Men had no particularly obvious traits beyond breathing underwater and possessing great strength—

Those Fish-Men with special abilities could make use of these innate physiological functions.

Nanamo could release powerful acid, while Nereus could use this skin-tight bubble membrane to form a special protective layer and retain his combat ability underwater.

And this membrane was not some artificially made resin bubble coating that could easily be damaged in battle.

As long as Nereus remained alive and had not exhausted his stamina, he could continuously replenish and repair this bubble membrane, making it as dependable as a second layer of skin and enough to sustain intense combat.

To Nereus, the stamina consumed by this ability was no different from breathing.

For ordinary Fish-Men, this ability meant little. But for a Devil Fruit user like Nereus, it served a special purpose.

"Fake... it's all fake! How could my carefully planned scheme have such a massive flaw... cough, cough... What... exactly... is going on..."

Valentine suddenly realized that the strength within his body was draining away at a frightening speed. His entire body gradually became stiff and numb, and even his legs and feet began refusing to obey his brain.

His meticulously tailored suit, once fitted to his body, now looked loose and oversized.

Soaked through by the icy seawater, and accompanied by Valentine's feeble struggles, its sleeves slipped down, leaving both his arms entirely exposed.

Valentine was not one of those hulking men with grotesquely swollen muscles, but he had at least possessed a lean and powerful physique. Yet now, his arms were shriveled like decaying wood.

His muscles atrophied, his skin sagged and wrinkled, as though he had aged several decades in an instant.

"Didn't you say it yourself earlier? This Devil Fruit of mine can take other people's lifespans.

"I'll be taking yours. I left you about five minutes. No need to thank me—go savor the last moments of your life."

Taking another person's lifespan through physical contact was the most basic ability of this Devil Fruit. As long as its user was not some utterly worthless fool, they could grasp this power the moment they ate it.

In the original timeline, after Redfield ate this Devil Fruit, he took others' lifespans to restore his youth.

If the user wished, they could even return the stolen time.

Nereus had eaten this Devil Fruit long ago, and using such a basic ability came as naturally to him as breathing.

And to Nereus, taking lifespan and drinking blood were two entirely different things. Someone as utterly self-absorbed as Valentine did not even make Nereus want to drink his blood.

Someone like Valentine, who lost control so completely the moment events exceeded his estimates, was bound to possess weak Haki. He had no way to resist Nereus draining his lifespan.

"No... my youth, my ambition... How can they... disappear... just like this..."

Overwhelming unwillingness and despair surged through Valentine's heart like a tide as he struggled desperately in the seawater with every last shred of strength.

Yet this body, whose time had been taken by Nereus, could no longer support any meaningful act of resistance.

As a wave swept over him, icy seawater flooded Valentine's already weakened lungs. He desperately wanted to cough the water out, but each violent cough only made him inhale even more seawater.

The crushing suffocation, mixed with the cold despair of approaching death, completely engulfed Valentine's aged body.

Valentine's gaze gradually dimmed and lost focus. He watched helplessly as the sea surface above him, symbolizing life, drifted farther and farther away.

In his final moments, he could only helplessly reach his trembling hand upward.

The distance that had once been so close, within reach at his fingertips, had now become as unattainable as a vast chasm.

Valentine never rose to the surface again, remaining forever in the dark, icy depths of the West Blue.

Only the empty Pirate ship of the Valentine Pirates remained, proving that such a Pirate crew had once existed in this world.