The alarms grew more urgent as Werther and Aokiji faced off in the plaza before Marine Headquarters.
"You're here for Red-Haired? Bad timing. He's already dead."
Werther lowered his gaze and narrowed his eyes.
"Is that so? Then let me take Red-Haired's body. I promised someone I'd bring him back."
Werther didn't much care whether Red-Haired was alive or dead. He had only promised Grace he would help her save him. If Red-Haired was already dead, there was nothing Werther could do.
Besides, Werther and Red-Haired had been enemies. Even if he saw Red-Haired, he might not rescue him.
And even if Werther wanted to save him, Red-Haired would never accept his "charity." Never.
As a Great Pirate who had carved his way through the New World, how could Red-Haired endure such humiliation?
Rather than coming to "save" Red-Haired, Werther had come to see him off—to bid farewell to the old rival he had fought dozens of times.
There were things women wouldn't understand. Werther and Red-Haired shared a bond, but it was the bond of enemies.
Werther didn't want to see the formidable man who had once crossed swords with him die like a dog in a damp, cold cell.
"That's impossible too. If we hand Red-Haired over, what becomes of the Marines' authority?"
Aokiji's refusal turned Werther's expression cold.
"Aokiji, I let you go once. Don't force me to kill you."
Werther merely stood there with Intent Blood in hand, yet dense slashes suddenly appeared across the paving stones around him.
Aokiji's expression darkened. Before, Werther had put pressure on him. Now his presence was crushing.
If I fight Werther alone now, I'll die.
Startled by that realization, Aokiji studied Werther. When had the Great Swordsman before him grown so powerful?
"This is Marine Headquarters. You don't get