For a moment, even the pirates who had stayed behind were frightened.
After all, that tattooed man had been no weakling.
Yet in Randall's hands, he had been more fragile than a toy.
They no longer had the courage to stay.
But by the time they wanted to leave, it was already too late.
Randall had broken the tattooed man's sword into a hundred and nine fragments.
And there happened to be exactly a hundred and nine pirates around him.
Randall tossed the fragments in his hand, coating them in dense Armament Haki.
Then he scattered them casually, as though tossing a handful of sand.
Whoosh—
A hundred and nine fragments, yet only a single sound of air being pierced.
An instant later, headless bodies fell one after another.
A hundred and nine bodies. Not one more, not one less.
The surrounding swordsmen were drenched in cold sweat.
Even with their firm resolve, they could not easily stomach such a sight.
It was simply too terrifying.
The name Enma was well deserved!
But while they feared Randall's power, they did not fear Randall himself.
Randall slowly walked back to Milers, shrugged, and sighed.
"Heh, you find these 'fearless souls' everywhere."
Milers sighed.
Randall narrowed his eyes and said,
"They aren't fearless. They're ignorant.
"And as time passes, people will forget everything I've done."
Shaking his head, Randall said nothing more.
An hour passed quickly.
Mihawk and Solder, who had been sitting face-to-face ten meters apart, opened their eyes at the same time.
Their gazes were like streaks of sword energy.
They slowly rose from the ground and reached for their sword hilts.
"Mihawk, you're strong, but sorry—the title of World's Greatest Swordsman is mine!"
Solder's eyes were razor-sharp.
Mihawk remained silent, his presence growing sharper still.
Seeing this, the onlookers