Rocks' Probe: Reading His Mind in an Instant

The sea breeze carried the stench of dead fish, mixed with the sour reek of urine and feces wafting up from the lower decks.

Rektol stepped onto a wooden gangplank thickly covered in seaweed and boarded the flagship of the Rocks Pirates.

It was a massive, three-masted sailing ship two hundred meters long. The three tiers of gunports on both sides stood fully open, their dark muzzles exuding a heavy smell of gunpowder.

The deck was packed with people standing in a dark, oppressive ring. Any one of the villains aboard this ship could be tossed into the Four Blues and stir up a bloody storm.

Golden Lion Shiki bit down on half a cheap cigar and leaned against the mainmast. Through the swirling smoke, his defiant eyes sized Rektol up from head to toe.

Whitebeard Newgate sat on several stacked rum barrels, his thick arms folded across his chest. He said nothing, merely lowering his gaze to glance at the three-year-old child.

Captain John, drunk and bleary-eyed, drew half a blade. The edge scraped against a rough whetstone beside him with an ear-piercing screech. Sparks scattered across the damp deck.

Every gaze was hostile.

Like a pack of hyenas that had gone hungry for three days, they stared fixedly at a lone wolf that had foolishly wandered into their territory.

Rektol was barefoot. His short pink hair whipped wildly in the sea breeze.

Among this group of monsters standing two or three meters tall—some, like Whitebeard, built like small mountains—even his three-year-old height barely reached their knees.

But he did not stop for a moment.

His bare soles stepped onto the deck covered in slime and dried blood, making wet smacking sounds.

The several low-ranking pirates blocking the way were forced back half a step by the innate coldness radiating from him. Without realizing it, they made way.

Rektol walked straight toward the captain's cabin at the very back.

A heavy iron-banded oak door.

Rektol raised his short leg and kicked the center of the door.

"Bang!"

The rusted iron plate caved in at once. The wooden door crashed inward and slammed against the wall, kicking up a cloud of choking dust.

The captain's cabin was as dim as a tomb. Thick black velvet curtains sealed every window, blocking even the faintest ray of sunlight.

Rocks sat on a broad throne at the very back.

He wore a dark-red captain's coat. Both mud-stained leather boots rested directly on a sheepskin sea chart with worn edges.

The air reeked of cheap tobacco and the sour sweat of someone who had not bathed in years.

"You've got some nerve." Rocks spoke at last. His voice sounded like sandpaper grinding against rusted iron, scraping painfully at the eardrums.

The instant his words fell.

Without any preparatory motion.

A dark-red wave of Conqueror's Haki exploded from Rocks without warning, instantly filling the entire captain's cabin.

Top-tier Conqueror's Haki.

This was not a probe like the one at the camp. It was pure, violent suppression. Rocks intended to carve an eternal, inescapable fear into the heart of this three-year-old brat.

The solid wooden floor of the captain's cabin shattered instantly. More than a dozen cracks spread outward like a spiderweb.

The solid-copper wine cup on the table was forcibly crushed flat by invisible pressure. The half cup of rum inside exploded into a cloud of blood-red mist.

The crushing force slammed straight into Rektol's spine like a collapsed iron mountain. The air shrieked under the pressure.

Rocks stared at that tender young face, waiting for the sight of him dropping to his knees, crying bitterly, and begging for mercy.

Rektol's knees bent slightly. Under the savage force, the bones of his three-year-old body gave a creaking groan, as if unable to bear the strain.

But he did not kneel.

Deep within his chest.

"Thump! Thump! Thump!"

Three hearts suddenly contracted, like three massive internal-combustion engines running beyond their limits. They pumped blood furiously.

The searing blood surged through every vessel in his body like magma. His muscles swelled against all reason, stubbornly holding back the pressure of the Conqueror's Haki.

The violent waves of force blew his short hair straight up.

Rektol slowly straightened his spine.

He raised his head and looked at Rocks in the shadows. The veins on his neck bulged high from the extreme exertion, like green snakes coiled around one another.

Rocks slowly lowered the leather boots that had been resting on the table. The soles struck the floor with a dull thud.

"Impressive backbone."

Rocks clapped twice. His dry, hoarse laughter echoed through the dim room.

"Linlin gave birth to quite a remarkable brat. No wonder you dared make such a commotion in my camp. You even managed to exchange a couple of blows with Newgate."

He opened a drawer and took out two engraved silver wine cups. Then he picked up the half bottle of wine on the table and filled them.

Rektol's eyelids drooped halfway.

A ghostly blue glow instantly spread across his eyes, quickly filling his entire irises.

The All-Knowing Eye, activated.

His vision pierced through the dim light and the false laughter. Substantial black thoughts surfaced above Rocks' forehead.

First, keep this brat calm. Once he drinks the wine mixed with a high concentration of Seastone powder and Blood Poison, his body will be completely paralyzed.

Then have the three people on the ceiling attack immediately. Sever the tendons in his hands and feet.

Drain his blood and squeeze out even his bone marrow. I'll hand it over to those underground doctors for research and see how Linlin gave birth to a freak with three hearts!

Rektol listened to the nauseating thoughts and raised his gaze by half an inch.

To the naked eye, the beams of the captain's cabin ceiling looked empty, with nothing but a few spiderwebs.

But within the field of the All-Knowing Eye, three humanoid silhouettes clung tightly to the beams, their breathing nearly stopped.

Their body temperatures were completely identical to the surrounding environment. Each held a short blade coated in deadly poison.

Devil Fruit ability users? Or assassins trained by some covert organization.

Rektol did not care in the slightest.

"Come, have a drink." Rocks pushed the silver cup in his left hand forward.

"Drink this, and you'll become the youngest officer in the Rocks Pirates. Your status will be the same as Shiki's and John's."

The wine sloshed in the cup, carrying a strange sweet fragrance that perfectly concealed the bitterness of the Seastone powder.

Rektol took a step forward and walked to the table across the shattered floor.

He extended his chubby hand and pinched the rim of the silver cup.

The silverware felt cold to the touch.

Rocks leaned back into the broad chair. His withered right hand rested beneath the table, his finger already poised on the trigger of a signal gun.

He was ready to give the signal at any moment.

"An officer?" Rektol raised the wine cup to his lips.

Just as the rim was about to touch his lips.

Rektol's left hand suddenly released its grip. The silver cup dropped straight down.

At the same instant, a dazzling mass of blue-white lightning erupted from the fingertips of his right hand.

Two hundred million volts. Without holding anything back.

"Lightning Spear."

Three lightning spears as thick as arms instantly took shape. With a thunderous blast that tore through the air, they pierced straight through the sturdy oak ceiling from below.

They moved too fast for the naked eye to catch.

"Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!"

Three muffled sounds of flesh being instantly burned through overlapped almost perfectly.

Three dark-red clouds of blood burst from the beams without warning.

Their camouflage was forcibly torn apart, and three assassins dressed in tight black clothing fell from the air.

Their chests had each been melted through by lightning, leaving transparent holes the size of washbasins. The intense heat carbonized the flesh around the wounds, leaving not a single drop of blood.

The three corpses crashed heavily onto Rocks' table.

Half the wooden table collapsed beneath the impact. The corpses crushed the yellowed sea chart, and the short blades clanged onto the floor.

Rektol did not even glance at the three corpses.

His left hand suddenly scooped downward through the air, catching the falling silver cup securely.

The poisoned wine sloshed from the momentum, but not a single drop spilled.

Rocks' expression changed completely.

His hand beneath the table clenched the signal gun tightly, his knuckles turning white. His dead-fish eyes stared at the corpses on the table, and he failed to recover for quite some time.

Rektol carried the wine cup around the half-collapsed table and walked up to Rocks.

He turned his wrist.

The rum mixed with deadly poison and Seastone powder poured out in a rush.

It splashed precisely across the surfaces of Rocks' mud-stained leather boots.

The dark-red wine touched the leather and instantly erupted into thick white smoke.

A pungent, sour stench spread through the room. The fine cowhide military boots burned a large hole, and the poison continued corroding down to the floor, making the wood hiss.

The poison was terrifyingly potent.

The temperature in the captain's cabin instantly dropped to freezing.

Even the faint vibration of the short blades lying on the floor could be heard with perfect clarity.

Outside the door.

Hearing that something was wrong inside, Shiki and Newgate shoved open the already-rickety wooden door.

The two men stood in the doorway.

They saw the splintered wood covering the floor, the three assassins' corpses with holes through their chests on the table, and Rocks with a foot drenched in poisoned wine.

They were completely stunned.

Rocks' face turned livid. The muscles in his cheeks twitched violently from extreme rage and the humiliation of being exposed.

The murderous aura around him was like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

Everyone aboard the flagship, including the pirates on the deck outside, felt that oppressive killing intent. They were so frightened that they did not dare breathe too loudly.

Rektol did not care in the slightest.

He raised the empty silver cup and casually smashed it at Rocks' feet.

"Clang."

The silver cup hit the charred floor and crumpled into a lump of scrap metal.

Rektol let out a cold laugh. His short body stood ramrod straight as he stared directly at the enraged Rocks.

He turned around, putting his back to this tyrant of the seas, and tossed out a sentence that shook the entire room.

Then he strode toward the door.

"You want me to be your underling? Dream on."

"I was born to be the one on top."