I Need a Gun!

"I said, don't move!" Vergo blew air into his Armament-coated barrel, inflating it into an exaggerated sphere.

But his threat could not stop Conrad, who was already rushing toward Baby-5 as she leaped from the sky—the only splash of deep red amidst the falling snow.

"Help me block him!"

"Huh?" Rosinante's eyes widened until they nearly popped from their sockets; he had seen the destructive power of Demon Bamboo. "How am I supposed to block that?"

"Find a way!" Conrad's pupils remained locked onto Baby-5, not shifting for even an instant.

The girl's frame was petite, as if a gust of wind might carry her away, but in this moment, the two of them saw only each other—one falling, one running, converging toward the same point.

Bang!

The spherical barrel retracted instantly, firing an air cannon. Vergo's target was Conrad's legs; after all, even if the brat had eaten the Op-Op Fruit, he wouldn't need his legs to perform surgery.

Moving at the same time as Vergo was Rosinante; he could not watch two children be slaughtered before his eyes, so he threw himself in front of the barrel.

"You think a 'way' is just something you can conjure up on command! Ah—! Tekkai!"

BOOM!

The air cannon slammed into Rosinante, who had braced himself with every ounce of strength he possessed.

Baby-5 dove into Conrad's arms, her own raised high.

The explosive flames tore through his floral shirt and feather coat, sending Rosinante flying backward.

The force of the descent crushed Conrad's braced knees, forcing him to collapse into the snow, yet he still caught Baby-5, and the girl clung tightly to him in return.

Baby-5 lifted her face, flushed a deep, shy red, and for the first time, met Conrad's gaze—a look that treated her as if she were a precious treasure.

She might have been bruised from the impact, but she felt nothing of it now. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"Baby-5! Shoot him!"

Buffalo circled in the sky like an airplane, his neck-spinning hair slowing his descent. "That cunning brat is tricking you! He's trying to use you as a hostage!"

Baby-5 acted as if she hadn't heard him, her watery black eyes fixed on the blood trickling from the corner of the boy's mouth into his collar. Yet his smile was brilliant, and perhaps because of her distress, he smiled even wider.

"Pull me up." Conrad gripped Baby-5's cold, small hand.

Baby-5 scrambled up from Conrad's chest, clasping her free hand over the one he held, and pulled with all her might.

Conrad rose with the momentum, black eyes meeting black eyes, and whispered, "Point your gun at me."

Baby-5 raised her right hand, transforming it into a gun barrel, and pressed it against Conrad's forehead. A single bullet was all it would take for her to end his life.

"Stop being a fool! Listen to Mr. Vergo! Young Master will be here soon!" Buffalo, mid-glide, suddenly banked upward into the sky to continue his mission of monitoring the Marines.

Vergo walked over to a broken tree, kicked the canopy aside, and dragged a battered Rosinante from the snowdrift. His chest was soaked in blood, rising and falling in ragged gasps.

Yet, behind his sunglasses, there was not a shred of sympathy. The Marine boot stepped onto a gruesome wound. "Answer me: the location of the Op-Op Fruit."

As he spoke, his sunglasses shifted to look toward Conrad. "I don't like killing children, but I have killed plenty."

Rosinante knew this was a threat directed at him. It didn't matter if he died, but it was a pity the intelligence documents hadn't been sent out yet. Poor, innocent...

He struggled, consumed by guilt, and looked toward Conrad.

"Don't worry! A real man does not fear life or death! To live on by selling others out? That would be looking down on me far too much!"

Conrad gripped Baby-5's wrist again, just as he had gripped the harpoon he once relied on to survive for a week.

He looked at Vergo, whose every inch of skin from head to toe was covered in Armament Haki—a formidable body without a single flaw—and only one thought surfaced in his mind.

"I need a gun! A gun with spirit!"

Hearing this, Baby-5 looked up at Conrad—a boy about ten centimeters taller than her. Perhaps this was love at first sight.

Even though Conrad didn't explain, she knew with a sudden, intuitive spark that he wasn't referring to the firearm on her arm.

He meant a cold-steel spear.

And she, as it happened, was a user of the Weapon-Weapon Fruit.

Baby-5 stood on her tiptoes in the snow, offering her narrowing waist to Conrad's frostbitten hands, which clasped it perfectly.

Her deep red cotton coat fluttered in the wind, wrapping around the blood-red tassel beneath the cold steel spearhead.

Everything would have been perfect, had Baby-5's legs not still been planted in the snow.

"I... I can only partially transform my body into weapons for now. Before, I only ever turned my hands and feet into firearms." Her delicate calves were tucked into long boots, her knees brushing together, worried she would be despised, worried she would disappoint.

But Conrad only gripped the pitch-black shaft firmly, staring at the archaic, imposing spearhead protruding from the tiger-mouthed fangs, which looked sharp and grim in the cold light of the snowy night.

"I changed it to look like you..."

"Excellent! Keep going!" Conrad hoisted it up. "You can do it! I know you can!"

As his words fell, Baby-5's legs fused in an instant into a straight, solid shaft, turning into two white streaks against the pitch-black steel.

Her mind went blank, as if she had found her destined home, so joyful she felt dizzy; the spearhead vibrated and rang.

At that moment, a mass of white clouds surged in the sky over the center of Minion Island, extending threads in every direction, descending to shroud the entire island.

Conrad knew this was the "Birdcage," a technique Doflamingo had developed through his research into the String-String Fruit.

The Donquixote Family has already landed on the island and will be here momentarily.

He must thrust his spear! Right now! This very instant!

The moment the thought flashed through his mind, Conrad charged, gripping the spear that had transformed for him, born for him.

Spear! Focus all power into a single point! Break through the surface with that point!

Vergo found it absurd that a child, wielding a weapon transformed from another disobedient child, would dare to take the initiative and attack him.

Before the person arrived, his voice reached him, brazenly calling out his name as if declaring war on his opponent.

"Vergo!!!"

Conrad's body was not yet imposing, but within his heart burned an inextinguishable fire—a volcano destined to erupt, waiting for the moment to set the heavens ablaze.

He had to roar, for the fire was scorching his heart, and only by exhaling in a powerful, high-pitched shout could he prevent it from burning through his own chest.

He did not know Ryou, nor did he understand Conqueror's Haki Infusion; the Conqueror's Haki within him was like boiling water, rising from his skin as steam.

He only knew to focus his entire spirit on the spearhead, that inch of light that would lead him to break through the encirclement. His body adjusted its posture to unleash the most powerful strike possible, all for that one blow into which he would pour every ounce of his Haki!

"This spear holds twenty years of my ambition! Can you block it!"

In Vergo's eyes, Conrad was like a harmless sheep that had suddenly bared its fangs, coming at him with fierce momentum.

Yet he saw it clearly: even if this strike was grand in scale, it could never break through the defense of his Armament Haki.

He raised his "Demon Bamboo" high, intending to strike the spear away the moment Conrad reached him, and crush that head that refused to bow.

BOOM!

The color of the steam surrounding Conrad deepened, his momentum surging violently. His Conqueror's Haki erupted like a bursting boiler, pouring wildly into the spearhead!

A strike of total exhaustion, burning the bridges behind him, never looking back until victory was won.

"You cannot block it! Haki propulsion! Army-Breaking Overlord Spear!"