Chapter 21

Yet stray thoughts drifted through his mind: just a few dozen days ago, he had still been sprawled in front of a screen, watching anime and playing games.

Now arson and ambushes were everyday affairs, and here he was, sneaking into someone else's stronghold alone for a real, live infiltration.

The world had really taken an absurd turn.

His thoughts wandered, but his movements never stopped.

He soon reached a shadowed corner of the manor wall, kicked off the ground, hooked his fingers into the gaps between the bricks at the top, and hauled himself over with his core, landing silently in the courtyard.

He did not stir so much as a breath of wind when he landed.

With that ability, he had no need to worry about making any noise.

Once steady, he drew the deliberately darkened blade from the small of his back and hurried toward a window in a crouch.

With his back against the wall, he turned his head and glanced inside.

Empty.

He slipped the tip of his knife into the gap between the two window panels and twisted hard.

The wood gave a faint creak as he forced an opening.

He inserted his other knife and flicked it upward, and the window slid open to either side.

Without his ability concealing it, all that commotion would have been like banging a gong in the quiet night.

He slipped nimbly through the window and reached back to close it.

Looking around, he found himself in a kitchen.

He certainly seemed to have a connection with stoves, pots, and bowls.

Standing in the room full of unfamiliar scents, Rossi slowly narrowed his eyes.

The fact that he was surrounded by enemies did not make him nervous. Instead, a strange heat rose from deep within him.

Now, then, it was time to find a "guest"

and say hello.

A body slammed into the floor with a dull thud.

The man, wearing only his underwear, jolted awake. Before he could make sense of what was happening, a foot had already planted itself on his chest.

"Where are those three from the Four Suits?"

The icy question came down from above.

The man struggled to open his bleary eyes, making out only the backlit outline of a blond boy.

"Y-you... who are you?"

With a sharp hiss, something drove into the floor right beside his cheek.

The chill of metal instantly pierced his skin, making every hair on his body stand on end.

"I'm the one asking questions."

The boy lowered his voice further. "Don't answer me with questions."

Grinding his boot against the thug's chest, Rossi tilted his head.

"Or you could try making another choice."

A choice?

Wait, where had Luke gone-?!

The man sprawled on the floor rolled his eyes toward the side and caught sight of Luke, his roommate, lying nearby-or rather, what remained of Luke.

"This is what happens when you choose wrong, so think carefully about your answer-"

"I... I'll talk... I'll tell you everything..."

With death breathing against his nose, the desire to live swept away all reason.

Even someone like Luke had been cut to pieces. What good would struggling do? None, of course!

"Those three... are in the basement... the entrance is in the backyard..."

That easily?

"Good. Thank you for being honest."

Rossi straightened and lifted his boot off the man's face.

The thug's throat relaxed, and he instinctively breathed out.

Bam!

A side kick swept into his neck. The thug's head snapped to one side, and he fell silent.

Having obtained the information, Rossi rubbed his chin.

"This is already the third one... Could the information these guys have be wrong in the first place?"

The man on the floor was not the first to be so "cooperative"

with him.

In fact, in just thirty minutes, Rossi had already slipped into three different rooms.

After he dealt with one burly man who tried to resist, the other two had both chosen to talk, spilling everything they knew.

According to them, those three unlucky bastards-Trebol, Pica, and Diamante-were being held in the basement in the backyard.

If that information was correct, wasn't this Jedi Family being far too careless about secrecy?

"Or..."

There was another possibility: they simply did not care if the information leaked.

In other words, someone difficult to handle was guarding the place where those three were being held.

"No wonder... my little ones are so excited... We have an uninvited guest."

Hm?

As Rossi silently considered the possibilities, a low, sticky voice came from outside the door, like a blunt knife soaked in clotted blood.

Nauseating. Unsettling.

What?!

Bang!

As Doffy, Vergo, and Bolkin waited anxiously in ambush outside, a bullet suddenly punched through the window glass, shattering the manor's nighttime silence amid a spray of shards.

"Rossi's made his move. Let's go!"

Doffy charged out first, with Vergo close behind.

Bolkin hesitated for an instant, then shouldered the bundle of explosives and followed.

"What's going on-"

"Who are you?"

"Stop!"

After the gunshot, the entire manor became an anthill drenched in boiling water. Lights came on in room after room, and disheveled men poured out with weapons in hand, looking around.

The two men in the guardroom had only just spotted the figures charging through the darkness and had yet to raise their guns when a dark object trailing hissing sparks smashed through the wooden window and rolled to their feet.

An explosion tore through the silence.

The blast sent wood chips and dust surging in every direction. The little building collapsed as though crushed by an invisible hand.

Dark red traces mingled with the flying debris, and the air instantly filled with the smells of rust and burning.

"Heh... hehehe..."

Doflamingo pulled another iron canister from his waist, lit the fuse with his fingertips, and hurled it toward the figures moving in the courtyard.

When the flames flared again, his laughter mingled with the screams and crashing rubble, carrying a hint of a child's playful delight.

"Bolkin, give me all the rest-"

The boy following just behind him hurriedly unfastened the iron canisters hanging from his belt and handed them over.

On the other side, Vergo had already plunged into the panicking enemies, the blades strapped to his wrists carving one warm, wet arc after another.

"What was that?!"

"Outside! They're attacking from outside!"

The crowd pouring out of the main house dissolved into chaos. Many had only managed to grab their weapons and were running around the courtyard half-dressed.

Long-barreled guns, curved blades, and flintlock pistols knocked against one another in the confusion.

"Over there! There are only thr-"

Boom!

Another deafening explosion cut off the shout.

Every time a fist-sized iron canister landed, it blasted a screaming gap in the crowd.

Within a few dozen heartbeats, only a handful of enemies remained standing.

More figures were scrambling and crawling away into the darkness.

The price was the special ore bought with tens of millions of Beli, vanishing in the unending bursts of flame.

The scent of burning money mingled with gunpowder smoke, filling their noses even before the smell of blood.

Schlick.

Vergo's blade sank into flesh once again.

A dying whimper sounded briefly in his ear, then was swiftly drowned out by fresh screams.

"Doffy... where's Rossi?"

Bolkin's voice trembled.

He looked at the manor before him, which had once symbolized absolute power-now its beams and pillars were collapsing, black smoke billowed, and crimson tongues of flame licked the night sky.

Wild laughter echoed above the ruins, stabbing into his eardrums like fine needles.

He was only an ordinary worker's son.

However much anger he had harbored, actually standing in this hell of flying flesh, where life and death were decided in an instant, still left him dazed to his very soul.

Instinctively, he wanted to find that ever-gentle figure.

Only Rossi could give him a little sense of security.

"Rossi..."

Doflamingo stopped throwing and scanned the battlefield, where the enemy had already scattered.

His gaze passed over the wreckage strewn across the ground and settled on the wide-open doors of the main house.

"Come on."

He drew his flintlock pistol and pointed it into that deep darkness. "We're going in."

When Vergo, drenched in scarlet, smashed through the doors and charged inside, Bolkin hesitated for only an instant.

He looked around. The fallen thugs were struggling to rise, a vicious gleam gathering in their eyes again.

Staying here meant certain death-that thought pushed him forward, sending him charging through the doorway with the heavy iron barrel on his back.

At the same time, deep in the corridor.

Rossi was retreating fast.

The dark short blade in his hand traced an inconspicuous arc, so fast that only an afterimage remained.

The blade slipped past the hound's reaching forepaw and stabbed precisely beneath its fang-filled mouth, sinking into its fur-covered throat.

Its heavy body crashed to the floor.

The muscle-bound monster, weighing over a hundred jin, died before it could even swipe its claws.

But the danger had not passed.

Three more hounds had already lunged at him.

One skimmed along the ground toward his ankles, another went straight for his chest, and the third actually kicked off the wall, leaping up to bear down on him from above.

Three directions, sealing off every avenue of escape.

Even if he could deal with one, the other two would immediately sink their teeth through his flesh.

Even animals knew tactics?

Rossi cursed inwardly as he threw himself into the wooden door beside him.

With a tremendous crash, he tumbled into the room. Almost simultaneously, several dark shapes whistled past outside the doorway.

He quickly rolled to his feet, shielded his head and face, and charged headlong toward the window on the other side of the room.

Glass shattered with an explosive crash.

He landed on the grass outside amid glittering shards. As he rolled to his feet, stinging pain came from all over his body-who knew how many fragments of glass had lodged in his flesh.

There was no time to deal with them, because the patter of running paws was already closing in behind him.

Agile dark shapes leaped through the window one after another. At a shrill whistle, they spread out to either side and surrounded him.

"You went out of your way to flee to the backyard."

A burly man clad in leather climbed out through the window after them, his whip dragging across the grass. "Here to rescue someone, aren't you?"

He wore a hood, and his voice emerged from beneath it with a certain sticky pleasure.

"My darlings love two things most: the flesh of the strong, and that of children."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Rossi's bloodstained figure. "And you happen to be both."

Rossi tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"To be called 'strong'..."

Panting, he held his short blade across his body. "You really... flatter me."

Even setting aside that silent power, this growing body alone had already displayed resilience and speed beyond those of ordinary people.

Coupled with the unfettered disposition of a visitor from another world, not only ordinary civilians but even street thugs could barely last a few exchanges against him.

But as for truly deserving the word "strong"

itself...

The beast tamer opposite him, commanding more than a dozen hounds, was enough to send him fleeing, covered in wounds.

And compared to Richie, the roughly two-meter-tall lion belonging to Mohji, the beast tamer who would later serve under Buggy the Clown Emperor, this man's hounds probably did not even amount to wild rabbits.

In other words, the current Rossi was not even as strong as an officer whom Luffy had casually knocked down when he first set out to sea.

Judging by his bounty, he was probably worth only six or seven million Beli.

"Throwing your weight around with a few dogs? You're just riding on their coattails."

At Rossi's barbed words, the burly man in the hood gave a cold snort.

"Childish."

"You want me to set my 'children' aside and fight you one-on-one-"

"Exactly."

Covered in blood, Rossi raised a hand to his fringe and slicked his golden-red hair back with blood.

"I've figured out your tricks. What comes next is between you and me."

?

The instant his words fell, Rossi suddenly lowered his body, the muscles in his legs drawing taut as a bow-

The next second, he kicked off the ground and charged!

Whoosh-

His figure shot straight at the hooded brute like an arrow loosed from its bow!

"Finish him."

Facing this sudden charge, the burly man in the leather jacket and hood merely gave a calm command.

Yet the hounds that should have lunged from all sides at once remained motionless, still surrounding him without advancing, as though they really were waiting for their master to fight alone.

?