"Vice Admiral, are you sure this is the place?"
On the bridge of the Leviathan Kai, Brannew looked at the life-detection results on the main screen, his face filled with unconcealable worry.
On the screen, all was deathly still.
Aside from the most basic microorganisms, no significant signs of life could be detected on the entire island, or even in the sea for dozens of kilometers around it.
This was an island of death in the truest sense.
Three days earlier, Yas had issued that insane order to enter seclusion.
Brannew had mobilized the G-5 Branch's entire intelligence network, even going so far as to owe Cipher Pol a favor, before finally finding this island that perfectly met Yas's requirements in the deepest reaches of the New World, in waters known as the "Devil Sea."
Its name was the "Tomb of the Giant God."
Legend had it that, in ancient times, a towering giant had fought a heavenly god here for seven days and seven nights, only to die of exhaustion in the end.
His body had become this island, and his blood had stained the surrounding waters black. His unyielding fighting spirit had become an everlasting magnetic storm that shrouded these waters, preventing any life from thriving here.
The entire island consisted of an unknown black rock as hard as diamond, and violent thunderclouds and hurricanes covered it year-round. The environment was so harsh that even Marine warships could not easily approach.
It was practically a "God's Training Ground" tailor-made for Yas.
"This is the place."
Yas's voice came through the communicator, calm and firm.
He stood alone at the bow of the Leviathan, letting winds powerful enough to tear steel apart whip at his white Justice Coat.
After three days of recuperation, his injuries had healed by thirty