A Gentleman Uses Words, Not His Fists

There was no time to stop him, let alone comment.

Like lightning breaking through the clouds, Conrad acted faster than anyone in the Opera House could think. In an instant, the unwritten rules were torn to shreds.

The King's Guard couldn't react to the sudden turn of events, either. They pulled their triggers on instinct.

The moment the bullets flew, the lively lights and civilized society turned savage. All that remained was violence.

The elegant ladies who had been smiling calmly and chatting merrily a second ago were screaming and fleeing the next.

The bullets missed. Conrad had already leaped into the air with Geppo, facing the neon lights, the black, flowing clouds of night hanging behind him.

He needed a righteous cloak, or a trench coat.

His eyes had caught almost every face that had fired at him.

And so he was enraged. Furious.

"How dare you attack me! You brought this on yourselves! You bunch of criminals forced my hand!"

His foot had barely touched the air with Geppo before he shot down toward the ground.

In the span of 0.36 seconds, he stepped on the ground eighteen times. Conrad had used Soru, one of the Six Powers.

A blue-white afterimage was all that remained. Conrad suddenly appeared at the far right of the row of musketeers, his bright black eyes wide open and glinting.

He drew his spear back, ready to thrust.

"Stop, Conrad!" Shuzo shouted. "This will damage the World Government's prestige and cause a diplomatic inci—"

The musketeers hurriedly turned, trying to swing their guns around.

But what they saw was a killer whale, a black-and-white killer whale gliding through the night above the island.

Only when the spear pierced their heads and strung them together like candied haws did they see Conrad's dark face in their final moments. It was the fury of a strong man who had reined in his mercy.

Oga had once said that people feared great white sharks because they ruthlessly ate humans, yet failed to show enough respect for the strongest predator of all—the killer whale, which hunted great white sharks.

There was only one reason for this: humans weren't on its menu.

So if you were going to be anything, be a killer whale! That was why his nickname was the Killer Whale!

Conrad pulled out his spear, bringing down a row of corpses pierced through the head.

Great gouts of red and white spilled everywhere, the filth of death mixing together and becoming organic matter for nature.

The screams were as horrific as they could get. The broad street became a forest where people fled like startled birds and beasts, but inside the Opera House, the performance went on.

The captain of the guard had seen his share of blood and wasn't about to buckle. He raised his sword and retreated, kicking one of the musketeers, who was still dazed by the spearhead stopping beside his temple.

"Retreat! Retreat! Once the news gets out tomorrow, just you wait—"

"It won't get out!" Conrad planted his spear on the ground with a sharp thud and drew in a deep breath, filling his chest.

Haki surged over his skin, his black hair fluttering. He opened his mouth and roared from deep in his chest, the sound rising through his throat and shaking the soul—Overlord Lion Roar!

"YAAAH~!!"

Crimson Haki surged outward with the sound waves like a spreading halo. It caught up with the fleeing spectators, ladies and gentlemen alike, robbed them of consciousness, and sent them crumpling to the ground in droves.

Lion's Roar was the martial art Conrad had practiced most, apart from Whale-Slaying Tyrant Fist. It was the one he knew best.

After all, in the future, people would say that a gentleman used words, not his fists. Meaning, if you couldn't hit someone, you had to let loose with your mouth instead. And when it came to yelling someone down, the key was to be loud and forceful.

The Lion's Roar deserved its place at the top. Master it completely, and you could spit out blades of energy, turn sound waves into solid matter, and unleash devastating attacks.

Conrad stopped roaring. The guard captain's eyes rolled back, and two streams of blood trickled from his ears. He collapsed limply.

The roar had consumed a lot of Haki. Conrad turned to the Marines covering their ears and slung his spear over his shoulder. "Get some men to guard both ends of the street."

Nobody moved. They were still clutching their ears, clearly not yet able to hear properly.

Conrad waited a moment and steadied his breathing. Then he looked toward the Opera House and saw that the performance was still going on, completely undisturbed.

The Opera House stage was bright red, while the lights in the tiered audience seating were out.

In the beams of light where dust drifted across the stage, a graceful woman with short blond hair danced and sang a sorrowful song with a powerful melody.

Three people sat in a box in the front row.

The man in the middle was richly dressed and middle-aged. His beard connected to his hair, both neatly trimmed. He was none other than Ilusia's king, Shunda Lucas.

The king held a cigar and looked at the young man in the black suit beside him. "You want the woman your father used to enjoy, too?"

"Haha! My father has his turn, then his son has his. That's the Marlon Family way." The young man laughed easily. A well-timed dirty joke was good for lightening the mood.

He was Tony, the son of the Marlon Family's head. Not long ago, after Cindry's performance had ended, he'd tried to take her away, only to be stopped by Colonel Jess, who had come to pick her up after work.

"I prefer virgins. They're clean." The king grinned along with him, cigar smoke lingering in his beard. "More importantly, the royal bloodline is noble. It must not be allowed to spread beyond the family."

Tony nodded in agreement, his eyes fixed on the woman performing onstage. "I'd had my eye on her back when my father was still seeing her two years ago. I waited so long. I never expected her to get a fiancé in just a few months while I wasn't paying attention, and then that Marine colonel swooped in and stole her from me."

"I heard her fiancé died?" The king looked at Tony. "It wasn't—"

"No, it had nothing to do with me. No idea which pirate did the good deed."

Tony leaned forward and looked past the king toward the person seated at the far right of their box. With a smile, he said, "Our Devil Sheriff, Mr. Laffitte, you know anything about it?"

Laffitte was still in his police uniform, but had taken off his hat. Perhaps to add some color to his deathly pale face, he had put on bright red lipstick.

He smiled. "I don't know. But if you cross the Marlon Family's young master in West Blue, you deserve to die."

Tony was in high spirits. His father had warned him not to start a conflict with the Marines over a woman, but she had suddenly died. What a stroke of luck.

As he gazed at the dazzling star onstage, he could hardly wait to start thinking about dinner with her after the performance.

The king suddenly took his cigar from his mouth. "Sigh, the palace garden is still too small. It's full after planting only a few trees. Tony, you know I'm very fond of raising plants and animals."

Tony caught his meaning, removed his hat, and bowed. "Leave it to the Marlon Family, Your Majesty. The Ilusia Casino has had a very good quarter. We're extremely grateful for your support."

The king nodded with satisfaction.

Tony added, "And the sixteen-year-old new queen you requested has already been sent to the palace. She's waiting for you to favor her."

The king laughed heartily and clapped Tony hard on the shoulder.

Laffitte watched the two men and smiled as well, though his smile was most peculiar. He stood up. At three meters and forty centimeters tall, he stuck out like a sore thumb in the Opera House, yet the people around him seemed not to notice.

Even the people behind him, whose view he blocked, kept looking ahead as if they were still watching the performance.

"Excuse me. I'd like to use the restroom."

The king nodded. Laffitte was the Devil Sheriff, as well as the brutal weapon he used to keep the commoners in line.

Laffitte walked into the side passage by the stage and stopped at the foot of the stairs.

A man with stubble around his mouth emerged from the shadows. He wore a black-and-white striped suit and was round as a penguin.

Laffitte grinned broadly. "Bege, my hypnosis is nearly finished. It's your turn to set the assassination in motion."

"Heh. Mm."

The man was none other than Capone Bege, the newest head of one of the Five Families. He had risen to power by murdering the former boss of the Capone Family.