The central plaza of Rock Island had now been transformed into a temporary "Execution Ground" and "trading area."
The ground was paved with incomparably hard alloy plates, reflecting blinding light beneath the midday sun, making it nearly impossible to look at directly.
The air was filled with the pungent stench of rust and gunpowder, along with a suffocating aura of grim slaughter. It was as though even the sea breeze had been frozen by this invisible pressure, afraid to move freely.
The Navy elites stood in strict formation across the plaza, like silent statues.
Vice Admirals such as Onigumo and Doberman wore cold expressions, hands resting on their sword hilts, their eyes revealing determination and vigilance.
Rear Admirals and Commodores led their respective troops in neat formations. Everyone was utterly silent, like a well-trained army of steel.
The soldiers gripped their weapons tightly. Sweat continuously ran down their temples, yet not one of them dared lift a hand to wipe it away. Their gazes remained fixed straight ahead, as if even the slightest movement would shatter the tense atmosphere.
A massive Navy flag snapped loudly at the highest point, as though cheering on this grim scene.
Akainu stood at the very front with his arms crossed. Magma flowed faintly between his fingers like a volcano on the verge of eruption, giving off an aura that chilled the bone.
His eyes were as sharp as a hawk's, scanning the empty sea without pause. His face was written with the conviction that "evil must be thoroughly purged"—or perhaps, more accurately, with a dangerously volatile air that seemed ready to explode at any moment.
The alloy floor beneath his feet had turned faintly red and softened from the heat he unconsciously radiated, as though telling of the Admiral's inner fury and anxiety.
Kizaru