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 lay silent in deathly stillness, making the air indoors seem even more stagnant, as heavy as iron.
Deep within the room, a man in a deathly pale robe sat behind a broad desk. Behind him, the World Government's enormous cross-star emblem gleamed with a hard, cold luster beneath the moonlight.
His knuckles struck the tabletop heavily, each tap seeming to hammer against the reporter's heart.
"My men and I conducted a thorough investigation. Guanhao Island has completely vanished."
Across from the desk, an agent in a black suit kept his head deeply bowed, his voice stretched taut.
"Vanished? Is that the full extent of your investigation?"
The robed man's voice drifted out of the shadows, flat and emotionless, yet piercing to the bone like an ice pick.
A month earlier, the upper ranks of Cipher Pol had discovered that the Vivre Cards representing all the instructors on Guanhao Island—especially Chief Instructor Gistamon—had all burned away into ash within minutes.
Emergency calls had yielded nothing but a busy signal. The investigators dispatched immediately afterward had returned with this utterly absurd result.
Fine beads of sweat seeped from the black-suited agent's temples, gathering into streams as they slid down the sides of his face.
"My deepest apologies! But... based on our investigation of Guanhao Island's original location, this is the only conclusion we could reach.
Even the Eternal Pose that pointed to it has failed."
The man in the pale robe spoke in that same unreadable tone.
"It seems the enemy... is no fool. They know a thing or two about navigation as well."
Normally, even if an entire island rose into the sky, an Eternal Pose could still point toward it. After all, taking to the air did not erase an island's magnetic field.
But there was one exception: if the entire island had been split apart. The reason 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 further, nearly touching his chest.
"After failing to find anything on the surface, we immediately dispatched underwater units 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 find the rest.
By all reason, there should be no power in this world capable of destroying an island so completely.
In the end, we concluded that the island had been taken away by some kind of power rather than destroyed."
He swallowed, his Adam's apple rolling with difficulty.
"Following that lead, we... we even urgently checked the sixth level of Impel Down and confirmed 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 concealed by shadows.
"What about the Flying Pirate Crew? Have they been investigated?"
He finally spoke again, his voice lower than before.
The black-suited agent froze for a moment. He quickly lifted his eyes to sneak a glance at his superior's expression, then immediately lowered them again.
"Forgive me, sir... I was foolish. As far as we know, moving islands is Golden Lion Shiki's unique ability. Those subordinates of his... are nothing but worthless fodder. Why investigate them?"
"Do not ask questions you should not ask!"
The robed man's voice suddenly rose, and his icy authority instantly pressed down on the black-suited agent until he could barely breathe.
"Now! Mobilize every available resource and hunt down the remnants of the Flying Pirate Crew with all your strength! As for Impel Down, triple the guards outside Golden Lion's cell and have them rotate day and night! Not even a fly is allowed to get in!"
"Yes, sir!"
As if granted a pardon, the black-suited agent bowed sharply, then nearly backed into the heavy door as he retreated.
The doors closed, shutting out the last trace of outside light. The robed man slowly leaned back in his high-backed chair, pressing his knuckles hard against his throbbing temple as he let out a sigh only he could hear.
"I hope... I am merely overthinking this. The Lineage Factor... can only remain in the government's hands!"
Guanhao Floating Archipelago, cafeteria.
Adams sat at one end of a long dining table. Before him, empty plates piled high and gnawed-clean beast bones had nearly formed a small hill.
He leaned back in his chair, his belly swollen round.
Suddenly, his stomach began to shrink. As his abdomen gradually returned to normal, threads of scorching white steam rose from every pore, carrying waves of searing heat.
From the wounds left by machine-gun bullets, twisted and deformed metal bullet fragments were forcibly squeezed out by the strength of newly regenerated muscle.
Sticky black fluid and foul-smelling residue were violently expelled from every pore in his body. An almost tangible stench instantly filled the entire cafeteria.
"Eek—!"
Perona's little face scrunched into a ball, and even her pink twin-tails stood on end in fright. She clamped her small hands tightly over her nose and mouth and, like a startled rabbit, hurriedly stumbled back several steps until she hid behind her enormous teddy bear by the wall, exposing only a pair of terrified eyes.
The others merely frowned to varying degrees. They had long grown accustomed to such scenes.
Lucci even stood with his arms folded, his cold gaze sweeping over Adams's healing wounds with surgical precision as he assessed the explosive power hidden beneath that terrifying body.
Adams let out a satisfied breath, as though he had expelled all the filth and exhaustion from his lungs.
New 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 cracking crisply. Surging vitality raced through his veins, bringing an unprecedented sense of fullness.
He twisted his wrist and turned his gaze toward Lucci, who had been watching with folded arms. A challenging curve appeared at the corner of his lips.
"So, how about it? Want to... spar with me now?"
Lucci's face, which seemed perpetually frozen, remained completely expressionless. Only the corner of his mouth dipped ever so slightly.
"I am not fighting someone who has just recovered from severe injuries. There would be no point even if I won."
Adams laughed speechlessly and shook his head. This guy's mouth was as stubborn as ever.
His playful expression faded, and his gaze sharpened as it swept across the group. He began issuing orders.
TO BE CONTINUED