The Clown leader froze for a moment. Then, rage at being offended instantly crushed what little reason he had left.
First came the Bernano Family's humiliation today, and now a group of reckless fools had popped up out of nowhere, spouting nonsense.
"Are you blind?! How dare you interfere in the affairs of the Five Great Families?! Open fire! Blast them to pieces!!"
He shrieked out the order, his voice warping and cracking from sheer fury.
"The Bernano Family is handling business. It's not your place to point fingers! Open fire! Let those Colombo Family idiots see who makes the rules in the West Blue!"
The hook-nosed man roared almost at the same time. He too was consumed by the fury of being looked down upon. How could outsiders meddle in the Five Great Families' internal struggle?!
"Bang bang bang bang bang—!"
"Bang bang bang bang bang—!"
The dense gunfire erupted like popping beans. In an instant, the pier was swallowed by choking gun smoke and orange muzzle flashes.
Lead bullets ripped through the air with deadly shrieks, like two raging metal storms sweeping toward the fifty silent black figures.
Yet the expected screams and sprays of blood never came.
The bullets struck as though they had entered a thick swamp, making dull plopping sounds. They easily passed through the tall men in black—their chests, arms, heads...
Then they burst out the other side, trailing dark brown wet mud, before striking the buildings behind them without force.
The bullet holes in their bodies were clearly visible. Dark brown wet mud slowly seeped from the openings, filling them back in.
Their hollow eyes remained utterly still as they watched the stunned mobsters.
"Wh... what are those things?!"
A Bernano Family gunman's voice trembled. His finger was frozen on the trigger, but he had forgotten to pull it again.
"Gh... ghosts?!"
A Colombo Family member dressed as a clown had his teeth chattering.
"Fifty... fifty Logias?! That's impossible! Absolutely impossible!"
The greasepaint on the Clown leader's face twisted completely as he screamed hysterically, his voice breaking with terror.
He stared fixedly at the holes slowly closing on the Mud Men, his eyes nearly popping from their sockets.
Fifty identical Logias? It was a nightmare that overturned everything he knew.
The instant his scream rang out, the fifty Dirt Soldiers moved. Their stiff arms steadily raised their pitch-black gun barrels, their movements so perfectly synchronized that it sent chills down the spine.
Bang bang bang bang bang!
The lead bullets screamed through the air like Death's scythe, ruthlessly sweeping into the crowd!
"Pfft!"
"Ahh—!"
"My leg!"
This time, real blood sprayed through the air, accompanied by shrill cries of despair.
The mobsters in the front rows fell in droves like harvested wheat. The Bernano Family's black suits were torn apart by bullets, while the Colombo Family clowns' brightly colored costumes were rapidly dyed dark red.
The thugs who had been so arrogant moments ago were now lambs awaiting slaughter.
"Damn it! Damn it all!"
The hook-nosed man roared, his eyes bloodshot.
"Bring up the cannon! Drag it over here! Blow those mud monsters apart!"
Several burly Bernano Family men hauled a heavy cannon down the ship's gangplank.
They hurriedly loaded the gunpowder, rammed in the cannonball, and lit the fuse.
The cannonball crashed down and exploded. Mud splattered everywhere. The upper half of the struck "man" was blasted into a massive hollow, and scattered mud fell like rain. Yet the damaged body merely swayed. Its feet remained rooted to the ground, while mud wriggled rapidly through the hollow like a living thing, filling and rebuilding it.
Not a scratch!
Despair. Cold, venomous despair coiled around every mobster's heart like a snake.
"Mon... monsters... monsters that can't be killed..."
Someone muttered, and the gun in his hand clattered to the ground.
The Mud Men's counterattack never stopped. Precise bullets coldly reaped lives.
The mobsters completely broke down. Some futilely raised their guns and fired, splashing mud everywhere;
some charged with long blades, only for the weapons to sink deep into the mud bodies and become firmly trapped by the thick mud. The next instant, an icy gun barrel pressed against their foreheads;
more of them wailed and cried, throwing down their weapons and turning to leap back onto the ships in an attempt to escape.
It was a one-sided slaughter.
The Mud Men moved in silence, fired in silence, and killed in silence. They stepped over the wet traces left by their cannon-struck companions, over shattered corpses and flowing blood, their strides steady like machines carrying out a program.
The gunfire gradually thinned. The screams also faded.
When the echo of the final gunshot rang across the pier and faded away, the fifty Mud Men stood silently in place.
Dark red, viscous blood silently wound through the cracks between the pier's rough stone slabs, pooling into nauseating puddles.
Twisted corpses, discarded weapons, scattered scraps of colorful cloth... covered the entire landing area.
First-floor hall.
After sending Perona upstairs to sleep, Adams sat in a solid wood chair, his fingers unconsciously tapping the armrest as though he were contemplating something.
He could not keep relying on the bar owner for information. This time had only been a coincidence. Next time, he might not get any useful intelligence.
If he truly relied on pure luck to search for Robin, the efficiency would be far too low. He might even fail to find her for the rest of his life.
After all, this world had more than twenty million islands.
He needed an intelligence network that truly belonged to him, but he did not possess the skills needed to gather intelligence himself.
Adams felt that he needed subordinates who specialized in that field.
"If it's intelligence gathering, CP is still the best choice."
He thought to himself.
With that thought, Adams issued an order without hesitation.
"Open the sea chart for the waters around Guanhao Island."
The face of his wristwatch lit up at once. Dim blue light projected outward, weaving and expanding before Adams.
An unnervingly precise model of the surrounding sea floated in the air, with islands scattered across it like frozen stars.
A line of tiny text beside it was clearly labeled: Guanhao Island.
"Knock, knock, knock!"
The short, forceful knocking instantly shattered the atmosphere of scheming that filled the air.
Adams did not even raise his eyelids. With a light swipe of his fingertip across the side of his wristwatch, the dim blue sea model floating in midair silently dispersed as if it had never existed.
"Come in."
He casually uttered a single word.
The door hinges gave a faint scraping sound as a Mud Man soldier squeezed inside. It walked with heavy steps to the side of Adams's massive wooden chair and whispered into his ear.
Adams listened quietly. A few breaths later, the Mud Man stopped speaking.
"The Five Great Families' subordinates are far too weak."
After hearing the Mud Man's report, Adams inwardly scoffed.
However, he quickly reined in his emotions and ordered the Mud Man soldier to finish off the severely injured minor leader of the Colombo Family and throw the body into the sea. As for the Bernano minor leader, he would be sent back.
He let the Bernano man go because he had not yet provoked them and needed someone to return and deliver the message. There was already someone to report back to the Colombo Family, so there was no need to leave another survivor.
Although those lackeys were weak, as long as bullets and cannons could still strengthen Adams's physique, he would not wipe out the Five Great Families. When firearms and artillery no longer worked, it would be time for him to destroy the Five Great Families and set foot on the Grand Line.
After receiving the order, the Mud Man soldier turned and left to carry it out.
The door closed, and the hall returned to its dim silence.
The dim blue glow lit up again. Guanhao Island's precisely marked outline floated coldly before Adams.
TO BE CONTINUED
(PS: Guanhao Island was where Lucci and the others trained. Oda named it after a fan.)