Wisdom, Weather Sense, and Street Smarts

Ain had always thought Conrad spoke in riddles. At least he had explained himself, though she simply hadn't understood.

She was slow to think things through and rarely made decisions on the spot. She would quietly remember most things she heard, then go home and mull them over by herself. Only after she had figured out what she wanted to say and how she would respond to the other person's answer would she choose to speak.

If she couldn't think it through, she wouldn't reply.

There were only a few things she had already decided on and would act upon immediately if they were violated. For example, the Navy's duty was to catch pirates and protect civilians, and friends ought to help and support one another.

As for the justice she believed in, that was too big a question. She had never thought about it. She didn't think she was someone who could explain justice clearly, so she would choose a justice she could accept and follow it.

Just then, Conrad's laughter abruptly stopped. He leaned on his rifle and looked toward the Opera House. His wisdom, weather sense, and street smarts told him—

Something was wrong.

The King's Guard had stopped them from entering, while an assassin had suddenly attacked. They clearly weren't on the same side. Otherwise, wouldn't it have been better to let them into the Opera House before striking?

It was as if some rat was pulling strings, trying to make the two sides clash.

If Ms. Valentine was meant to assassinate the Navy once the time was right,

then there had to be another assassin among the King's Guard, ready to provoke a conflict after the Navy backed down.

Or perhaps the assassin was hiding right among the King's Guard!

At the thought, Conrad abruptly raised his hand and gave an order. He wasn't an officer in command, but he still issued it, his voice firm and decisive.

"Everyone, load your weapons! Aim at the King's Guard!"

His voice was like an iron hand gripping both ears, with the terrifying force of a lion's roar. The marines had to steel their wills just to resist the urge to move.

It was like getting horny but not being able to jerk off.

But when Bling Bling immediately took the lead, raising his rifle and loading it without hesitation, the others were driven to follow one by one. Instinctively, they reached for their guns and loaded them.

Amid the clanging of metal,

Conrad's gaze swept over the fallen guards. He recalled how they had collapsed when he'd unleashed his lion's roar just moments before.

As he thought more carefully, the memory began to shift.

Some had fallen face-first, some backward, and others had dropped to their knees where they stood. But one man had closed his eyes and frozen for several seconds before falling. Even the blood from his ears had flowed out several seconds later than the others'.

And it was only after he had shoved his fingers into his ears that he'd sustained the injury—a cut!

"Fire!" Conrad pointed at the man, who lay facedown on the ground beside the left side of the Opera House entrance. He was a hulking figure, two meters tall and clad in armor.

The marines' fingers rested on their triggers, but the conflict on their faces showed they still couldn't bring themselves to pull them.

Bling Bling looked into Conrad's eyes. He was used to reading people's feelings by their eyes.

That gaze was as resolute as ever. So he held his rifle in line with his right eye, aimed, and fired. The bullet burst from the barrel with a bang.

At the same time, Conrad shouted a second time, "Fire!!"

Bang! Bang! Bang!!!

Bullets poured out like rain.

The armored soldier lying facedown suddenly rolled over on the spot.

His hulking, two-meter frame crouched low, making himself a smaller target. He braced both arms in front of his head like an iron block.

Bullets struck his body with sharp metallic clangs, throwing off sparks, but not a single one could pierce him.

His arms had already transformed into steel blades. The blades gleamed with a cold light and fitted perfectly, as if they had grown straight from his muscles.

The next second, the soldier launched himself behind the Opera House wall and vanished from sight.

Ambush, defense, retreat, concealment—he wasted not a single movement, displaying the cold professionalism of an assassin who was like a machine.

After the volley ended, the marines loaded another round. The Opera House fell silent once more.

All the marines instinctively looked to Conrad, waiting for his next order. They didn't know how he had figured it out, but reality had already proven the accuracy of his judgment.

A murderous intent had begun to kindle in Conrad's eyes. Like a tiger shark prowling the deep sea, he had fully unleashed his keen radar for the scent of blood.

That soldier was Daz Bonez, Mr. 1, wielder of the Dice-Dice Fruit. He could turn any part of his body—even his internal organs—into steel blades.

He was a famous assassin from the West Blue, with a highly developed Devil Fruit and mastery of many techniques. Later, Crocodile of the Shichibukai would take an interest in him and recruit him as a subordinate.

If Conrad hadn't heeded his muscles' loyal warning and taken a few more steps into the Opera House, the man would only have needed to extend his entire right arm into a blade and swing it. Conrad would have been cut in half on the spot.

"Are we still going in?" Ain tucked her rifle back into her cloak. "I can clear the way."

She drew two short swords from the sheaths at her thighs. Their short reach made them easier to touch with her hands, allowing her to use her Devil Fruit ability more effectively.

Conrad considered this. "Your reversal ability works on walls, right?"

Ain nodded. She only had to press her hand against a wall to use her power, reverting it to the state it had been in twelve years ago. She could also use the ability repeatedly.

That was why, after a few accidents, she had grown wary of touching people and things. She was used to thinking things through before making a decision...

"Can you flatten this whole thing?" Conrad pointed at the Opera House.

Ain sized it up, then shook her head. "The bigger the target, the greater the strain on my body and the more energy it takes..."

"I'll do it!" Kujaku stepped out of the marine formation. The natural blush on her cheeks deepened to a feverish red.

"Stay with the group," Conrad said. He had promised to take good care of Kujaku.

Kujaku's face grew even redder, darkening as if under a storm cloud. "You don't believe in me?"

Conrad started forward. "Then we'll go together."

His steps were always in sync with his thoughts. Once he made up his mind, he looked ahead and moved forward.

Kujaku hurried after him. Ain followed, then Bling Bling. The marines felt as if time had skipped, leaving them behind. They too stepped out and advanced together.

Conrad pointed to the ornate corner of the Opera House wall. "Ain, undo this upright section."

Ain reached out and touched it. A swirl of peach-colored flames spread across the corner, instantly reverting it to a pile of stones and timber that clattered to the ground.

Once they had moved to the other side and both corners of the wall had crumbled, Conrad looked at Kujaku. "Move this wall."

Kujaku nodded with a beaming smile, reached out to caress the wall, then raised her Combat Whip and lashed it again and again. "Move, you little cutie!"

Rumble~

The wall, dozens of meters long, began to shift, scraping across the ground like a living creature.

"Good girl! What a good girl! Hurry, hurry!" The muscles in Kujaku's forearm tensed as she whipped faster and faster, her voice growing louder. She seemed to be getting excited.

Under her command, the towering wall rumbled as it moved, revealing the spacious performance hall and stage inside.

Brilliant light spilled out, illuminating the streets in the night.

The audience, dressed in suits and formal attire, watched Cindry's performance onstage with rapt attention. Cindry stood on a staircase in a three-story performance set built on the stage, spinning and dancing again and again toward the edge where she was about to fall.

Though she was about to topple and be crushed to death, the audience kept clapping as hard as they could. Their applause was thunderous.