Once a crowd passed ten thousand, it seemed to stretch without end.
From a god's-eye view.
The difference between the pirates and Randall was like that between a lake and a single drop of water.
Yet Randall's presence alone overwhelmed that of all the pirates.
It was an unsettling sight.
Like an ant holding up an elephant's descending foot with its antennae.
Those who had just witnessed how Randall dealt with that cannonball, however, were utterly numb.
Every organ in their bodies trembled.
Good grief.
They had thought that quantity would become quality, allowing them to give their opponent some trouble.
But after Randall revealed his strength, they realized they had been far too hasty.
The gap between his strength and theirs was a qualitative difference, too!
Heh, their entire group might only take him a few punches.
They stood where they were, silently watching those people rush toward death.
This counted as meeting each other halfway, didn't it?
They weren't standing there in a daze because they didn't want to flee.
An immense pressure had descended upon them.
As long as they stayed still, they were fine.
If they moved, someone really would die.
How did they know?
A glance at the piles of minced flesh on each ship's deck was enough.
Vast numbers of pirates surged forward like seawater, seeking to drown Randall.
As they ran, the entire island seemed to tremble.
By now, Aokiji wasn't worried in the slightest.
He quietly sat down cross-legged, propping up his chin.
Randall watched the pirates charge forward one after another, like moths to a flame, and gave a faint, merciful smile.
He considered it and decided that his earlier blast of Conqueror's Haki, combined with the power of that punch, should have been enough to intimidate the outside world.
With