High in the skies somewhere above the Justice Tri-Point Sea.
The battered Flying Admiral passed through the clouds. By now, it had put some distance between itself and Marine Headquarters.
It had suffered severe damage throughout, with Kizaru blasting away a considerable amount of its "mass."
Fortunately, the ship was essentially a converted island of rock and earth, and its propulsion had nothing to do with its "facilities." It relied entirely on the Float-Float Fruit.
Part of the palace superstructure had been destroyed, and members of the Flying Pirates were pouring concrete.
The smell of disinfectant filled a large lounge on the palace's first floor.
The Red Count sat by the window, reading a collection of news excerpts to get a proper understanding of what the outside world had become.
Bullet lay in a hospital bed, wrapped in bandages, a complicated expression on his face.
"How... did he even do that...?"
Bullet muttered to himself.
This time, he had witnessed Bondrewd's strength for himself. It was downright fantastical.
Still, he had more respect for powerhouses like Garp, Roger, and Whitebeard.
To Bullet, Bondrewd's strength was... strong in ways that made no damn sense.
When it came to trading bone-crunching blows, Bondrewd did not seem to be a top-tier fighter. At least, he was no match for Roger.
"Bullet. That was knowledge, and the development of his Fruit ability..."
Hearing the strange, almost existentially shaken tone in Bullet's voice from the next bed over, Shiryu offered an explanation.
He, too, was wrapped in bandages and sat on a hospital bed while a ship's doctor from the Flying Pirates changed his dressings.
After crossing blades with Hawk-Eye, Shiryu had to admit that he still had some way to go before reaching the strongest swordsman.
"Come to think of it, you might be