Shiki and the Flying Pirate Crew Take the Blame

Red Line, Mary Geoise.

Cold moonlight streamed through the enormous glass windows, flowing across the mirror-smooth floor, pale as frost.

Outside the window, the meticulously tended flowerbeds and fountains stood silent amid the deathly stillness, making the air indoors feel even more stagnant, like iron.

Deep within the room, behind a broad desk, sat a man in a deathly white robe. Behind him, the World Government's enormous cross-star emblem gleamed with a hard, cold luster beneath the moonlight.

His knuckles tapped heavily against the desktop, each sound seeming to strike the reporter's heart.

"My subordinates and I investigated thoroughly. Guanhao Island has vanished completely."

Across from the desk, the agent in a black suit lowered his head deeply, his voice taut with tension.

"Vanished? Is that the entirety of your investigation?"

The robed man's voice drifted from the shadows, flat and emotionless, yet piercing the marrow like an ice pick.

A month earlier, Cipher Pol's higher-ups had discovered that the Vivre Cards representing all the instructors on Guanhao Island—especially chief instructor Gistamon—had all burned away within minutes, turning to ash.

When they made an emergency call, all they got was a busy signal. The investigators dispatched immediately had returned with this utterly absurd result.

Fine beads of sweat seeped from the black-suited agent's temple, gathering into a stream as they slid down his sideburns.

"My deepest apologies! But... but based on our investigation of Guanhao Island's original location, this is the only conclusion we could reach.

Even the Eternal Pose pointing to it has failed."

The man in the deathly white robe spoke in the same unreadable tone.

"It seems the enemy... is no fool. They even know a thing or two about navigation."

Normally, even if an entire island was moved into the sky, an Eternal Pose could still point toward it. After all, moving into the air could not erase an island's own magnetic field.

But there was one exception: the entire island had been split apart. The logic was simple—a single pointer could not point in two directions at once. That was common sense.

The black-suited agent lowered his head even farther, nearly touching his chest.

"After finding nothing on the surface, we immediately dispatched underwater forces and fish-man slaves. In the end, we found only a small portion of the wreckage on the seabed at the original site. No matter what we did, we could not locate the rest.

By all reason, there should not be a force in this world capable of destroying an island so thoroughly.

In the end, we concluded that the island had been taken away by some sort of power, rather than destroyed."

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty.

"Following this lead, we... we even urgently checked the sixth level of Impel Down. We found that Golden Lion Shiki was still there. He had not escaped."

A long silence descended. Only the moonlight moved soundlessly across the floor. The robed man sat like a cold stone statue, his face shrouded in shadow.

"What about the Flying Pirate Crew? Have they been investigated?"

He finally spoke again, his voice a shade lower.

The black-suited agent froze for a moment, quickly raising his eyes to steal a glance at his superior's expression before immediately lowering them again.

"Forgive me, sir... I am foolish. As far as we know, moving islands is Golden Lion Shiki's unique ability. His subordinates... are merely insignificant fodder. Why investigate them?"

"Don't ask questions you shouldn't ask!"

The robed man's voice abruptly rose, and his icy authority instantly bore down on the black-suited agent until he could barely breathe.

"Now! Mobilize every resource and track down the remnants of the Flying Pirate Crew with everything you have! At Impel Down, triple the guards outside Golden Lion's cell and rotate them day and night! Not even a fly is allowed to get in!"

"Yes, sir!"

As though granted a reprieve, the black-suited agent bowed sharply and practically backed into the heavy door as he retreated.

The doors closed, cutting off the last trace of light from outside. The robed man slowly leaned back into his high-backed chair, pressing his knuckles hard against his throbbing temples as he let out a sigh that only he could hear.

"I hope... I am only overthinking this. The Lineage Factor... can only be controlled by the Government!"

Guanhao Floating Archipelago, cafeteria.

Adams sat at one end of a long dining table. Before him, mountains of empty plates and gnawed-clean beast bones had nearly formed a small hill.

He leaned back in his chair, his belly swollen round.

Suddenly, his abdomen began to shrink. As his stomach gradually returned to normal, wisps of scalding white steam rose from every pore, carrying waves of searing heat.

From the wounds left by machine-gun bullets, twisted fragments of metal warheads were forcibly squeezed out by the strength of newly grown muscle.

Sticky black fluid and foul-smelling filth erupted violently from every pore of his body. The stench, so intense it was almost tangible, instantly filled the entire cafeteria.

"Eek—!"

Perona's little face scrunched up, and even her pink twin-tails sprang up in fright. She clamped her small hands tightly over her nose and mouth like a startled rabbit, stumbling back several steps until she huddled behind her enormous teddy bear by the wall, revealing only a pair of terrified eyes.

The others merely frowned to varying degrees. They had long since grown used to such scenes.

Lucci even stood with his arms folded, his cold gaze sweeping over Adams's healing wounds as precisely as a surgical scalpel, assessing the explosive power hidden within that terrifying body.

Adams let out a relieved breath, as if expelling every impurity and trace of exhaustion from his lungs.

Fresh skin covered every wound, smooth and tough, as though he had never been injured.

He rose to his feet and rolled his neck and shoulders. His joints cracked sharply. Vast life force surged through his veins, bringing him an unprecedented sense of fullness.

He rotated his wrist and turned his gaze toward Lucci, who had been watching with folded arms. A challenging curve lifted at the corner of his mouth.

"So, how about it? Want to... spar with me as I am now?"

There was no ripple on Lucci's face, which seemed eternally frozen. Only the corner of his mouth twitched downward almost imperceptibly.

"I don't fight people who have only just recovered from serious injuries. There'd be no point even if I won."

Adams laughed speechlessly and shook his head. This guy's mouth was as stubborn as ever.

He put away his joking expression. His gaze sharpened as it swept over everyone, and he began issuing orders.

TO BE CONTINUED