Who Dares Stop Me! Killed On The Spot!

Conrad had grown up in a society governed by the rule of law, and now that he was a Marine tasked with enforcing it, he still harbored a fair amount of hesitation.

He remembered the first time he had stepped in to right a wrong, throwing punches to protect the weak; when he had grabbed the throat of a repeat-offender bully at the orphanage, his teacher had stopped him and locked him in a dark room for an entire week.

In the times that followed, whenever he tried to rob the rich to feed the poor, he never ended up with a good outcome.

Of course, he didn't really care about the consequences. If he saw something that didn't sit right with him, he had to act. Otherwise, how could he face the "De" (Virtue) in his name, which represented the moral principles of heaven?

Aokiji noticed that Conrad's gaze was remarkably solemn, containing both a respect for life and a murderous intent toward evil.

He pondered this question and answered slowly, "If you feel your life is threatened, you may kill, but if the enemy surrenders, follow the arrest protocol."

"I understand." Conrad instinctively clasped his fists in a salute, feeling relieved, for he always maintained a high level of vigilance against threats whenever he acted as a vigilante.

Disarming an opponent with bare hands was a deadly technical skill that required walking a tightrope.

For some reason, as Aokiji watched Conrad walk away with his rifle on his back, he felt there was a certain dashing quality to his stride, even though the boy was young and his steps were less than a third the length of his own.

The incandescent lights flickered to life, illuminating the dripping passageway.

Conrad arrived at the mess hall. It was dinner time, and the Marines on the warship had all come down to eat.

His appetite was always large, and since Baby-5 was also in a growth spurt, he asked the head cook for a bucket of rice before leaving the base to head to the balcony.

Kujaku, who had piled her plate high with food, trotted along behind him.

Once they reached the corner of the balcony wall, Conrad took down his black-cloth long spear and patted it. "Time to eat."

The long spear spun, dispersing into black hair that coalesced into the form of Baby-5. She lay between Conrad's arms, then stepped onto the ground and sat cross-legged obediently, her lips pressed tightly together.

"You can talk now." Conrad picked up the rice bucket, served a plate for Baby-5, and then swiped half the vegetables from Kujaku's plate.

"Okay." Baby-5 held her plate; she felt a bit stifled, but it was manageable.

Conrad then picked up a rice scoop and started eating directly from the bucket.

Kujaku suddenly thrust her chopsticks out, spitefully snatching a chicken leg from Conrad's bucket. "Give Baby-5 to me before we go back to the dormitory. I have a bad memory, so don't make me remind you."

As she spoke, she looked at Baby-5 and lectured, "Girls must be careful to keep their distance from the opposite sex. You can't just listen to everything they say... You two are sitting way too close right now! Don't lean against each other! Separate! At least half a meter!"

Kujaku reached out and started pushing them apart, leaning over to nudge them left and right; this was the educational task her grandmother had entrusted to her.

Amidst the jagged rocks in the strait beside the 80th Branch, a small boat with black sails drifted with the waves.

Sitting on the boat was a man with pale skin and an eerie, browless face, yet contrary to his appearance, he wore a crisp, formal black police uniform.

The man took down his binoculars—his pupils were as small as pinpricks—and picked up the receiver of the suit-and-sunglasses Den Den Mushi on the boat to dial.

Through the beeping, the call connected, but the person on the other end remained silent.

"It's me, Laffitte. Good news: the one who came is a Headquarters Vice Admiral—Aokiji!"

"Mm. Heh heh~" The voice on the other end was low and raspy, as if his throat were stuffed with whiskers.

The journey took two hours, and the warship arrived at the island of the Ilusia Kingdom from the 80th Branch.

The day passed without incident, save for one arrangement: the two hundred men were divided into five groups of forty.

The team leaders were assigned based on their military service records, as talent and strength did not equate to the ability to make correct choices during a crisis, nor did they imply combat experience.

Conrad had no objections to this; he indeed needed to learn a few times to understand the procedures. Those who had no one to teach them were accustomed to watching, listening, and drawing nourishment from their own experiences.

The captain of their group was a Longarm Tribe member dressed in foreign attire named Shuzo, who was thirty years old this year.

As they stepped onto the island, the Marine flag fluttered in the wind, but on the old-fashioned streets that resembled medieval Europe, pedestrians avoided them as if they were something filthy, quickening their pace.

Shuzo hung up the Den Den Mushi and looked at Conrad. "Your idea makes a lot of sense. I reported it to the Vice Admiral, and he agreed."

"Then let's go." The suggestion Conrad had made was to attend Cindry's stage play at nine o'clock that night.

In the original plot, Cindry would accidentally fall to her death during a performance. There was only one frame of imagery and a single line of dialogue, making it impossible to analyze the specific time, place, or people involved.

Conrad felt the muscles in his thighs heating up, urging him to walk faster. He had always trusted the instinct of his muscles; they were parts of his body he had honed through thousands of trials, no different from his brain.

The Marine flag was too conspicuous. Along the way, every man in a suit wearing a hat lowered his brim, clearly wary of them.

Conrad couldn't help but puff out his chest; the standard Marine uniform was too plain to show off his heroic temperament.

As they moved toward the city center, the crowd grew denser. Many people with their hands in their pockets, clearly armed with guns, stopped dodging and instead stared at them with ill intent.

When they arrived at the brightly lit, noisy opera house, someone blocked their path. Night had fallen, and drifting clouds obscured the moon in the dark sky.

Soldiers in retro robes and armor, accompanied by a musket squad, emerged from the crowd of people in formal wear and stood in their way.

"Halt! His Majesty Lucas is watching the performance!"

Ilusia was a member nation, a part of the World Government that could participate in the Reverie. In some respects, the Marines were like patrol dogs protecting their safety.

Therefore, the King's Guard had greater authority here than they did.

Shuzo shouted in a booming voice, "We are Headquarters Marines! Subordinates of Vice Admiral Aokiji! We are here to capture a wanted criminal!"

"Whatever the business, it must wait until His Majesty the King finishes watching the performance!" The captain of the guard did not flinch in the slightest. He stepped forward with his sword, his muscles bulging beneath his breastplate, and glared fiercely at Shuzo.

"There is a high-bounty criminal inside, which may endanger His Majesty's safety." Although Shuzo was nearly twice the size of the guard captain, he was in a foreign kingdom and lacked the necessary jurisdiction, leaving his presence far weaker; he could only reason with them.

The guard captain snorted, slashed his blade across the ground to carve a white line that sparked with friction, then raised a hand, signaling the musketeer squad behind him to line up and load their weapons.

"Squad, listen up! Fire on anyone who crosses the line! Kill them on sight!"

Shuzo froze; he knew these men would truly open fire. It was just like in the territories affiliated with his Longarm Tribe—if the Navy broke the rules and killed someone, there would be no recourse.

The kingdom had its own independent laws, and crimes were tried domestically. As long as they paid enough Heavenly Tribute, the Navy was obligated to provide support when requested during times of crisis.

Shuzo sighed and ordered a retreat, "Wait until the performance ends and His Majesty emerges, then we go in immediately!"

He emphasized the word "immediately," seemingly trying to reinforce the dignity and discipline of the Navy.

Yet, the laughter of the gorgeously made-up gentlemen and noblewomen surrounding them spoke to how cheap that dignity really was.

The marines retreated, and retreated again, but one person remained motionless.

That person was, without a doubt, Conrad.

He unslung the weapon from his back: the Army-Breaking Overlord Spear.

With a tug of the black silk, the red tassel fluttered as he gripped the spear in his right hand, planting it vertically between the kingdom's opera house guards, the audience, and the retreating forty marines.

"Navy law enforcement!!! I am entering this opera house today! Whoever dares to stop me—I will execute on the spot!"

One step, crossing the line, and the muskets erupted with a thunderous roar.