The Marines had a well-defined hierarchy. Besides the Fleet Admiral and three Admirals, Headquarters had sixteen elite Vice Admirals, with the ranks below them arranged like a pyramid.
The Revolutionary Army had its own hierarchy beneath the Commanders of the Four Seas. Green, the Shadow Puppeteer, ranked just below them, on the same level as Ivankov and the others.
It was hard to tell Green's age from his appearance. His hair was sparse and an unnerving white, the color of bare bone. His whole body could not have weighed more than a few dozen pounds.
A dark glow surrounded him, and the stench of a corpse clung to him. He was skin and bones, and even those bones looked too shriveled to support his body. He walked with an unsteady, drifting gait, as though he weighed nothing at all.
They called him the Shadow Puppeteer because there was almost nothing to him but bone and a layer of dry, withered skin. His body was as light as a shadow.
Green licked his lips and gave Jonathan a disdainful glance. His white eyes rolled upward, and his body seemed to blow straight toward Jonathan on a gust of wind. He was so fast that Jonathan had no time to dodge. Startled, Jonathan hurriedly used Iron Body.
Despite his severed left arm, Jonathan was still strong. His body instantly hardened like iron, but with a wet thud, Green's finger pierced his chest. The blade-like fingertip drove in, and blood began to flow. Jonathan swayed, his face turning paler still, as though all the blood had been drained from it.
Jonathan still had not made a sound. Few Marines were tougher. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he charged again, but for all his determination, he was no match for the Shadow Puppeteer.