An Overpowered Buster Call

Sea Circular Calendar, December 21, 1525.

A massive fleet of thirty maximum-specification warships was cutting through the waves at full speed, more than a dozen nautical miles from the Yulo Peninsula.

The seagull flags snapped taut in the fierce wind. Every warship stood a full sixty meters tall, their prows loaded with grim triple-barreled cannons.

If someone had passed overhead through the clouds at that moment, they would have been astonished to discover that only three people stood on the decks of this destructive fleet, which was more than capable of wiping an entire nation off the map.

One wore a gray suit, hands in his pockets, standing in a relaxed posture.

One wore a red suit, arms folded across his chest, the air around him faintly warping.

The last wore only a thin undershirt beneath a Justice cloak. His temples were frosted white and his face weathered with age, but the exposed muscles in his arms bulged with twisted veins like ancient ironwood dried for years, every inch radiating terrifying strength that seemed ready to burst forth.

On the balcony of a villa on the Yulo Peninsula, Violet held her hands before her eyes and took in the entire scene.

Her Glint-Glint Fruit could not only see through walls of people, but also penetrate ship decks. She clearly saw that the warships were not unmanned. The Marines were all huddled beneath the decks, hidden in the engine rooms and beside the gun emplacements.

The fleet's personnel had been streamlined to the extreme. Apart from the essential crew needed to steer the ships and fire the cannons, not a single extra Marine had been brought along.

That the World Government would send troops to suppress the newly established federation was something anyone with eyes could have foreseen.

Thus, the task