154
"It's all a dream. Once I wake up, it'll be fine..."
"I should never have boarded the ship. I never should have..."
Even the three known as the team's "Land, Sea, and Air"
pillars wore grave expressions.
The green-haired swordsman rested his hand on his sword hilt, the cigarette lit by the blond cook trembled slightly between his fingers, and the Fish-Man's broad back tightened like a bow.
Here, the slightest mistake could turn them into drifting blood mist.
The shriek of a rubber arm cutting through the air replaced the familiar shout.
Although the power surging through his body was now entirely different, years of ingrained fighting habits still made him shout the names of his old moves as he struck.
The warrior whose skin had turned pure white meant to charge toward the churning magma, but a plainly dressed figure blocked his path.
The old woman, her silver hair tied into a simple ponytail at her shoulders, let her hands hang naturally at her sides.
Her position was unremarkable, yet it cut off every route to Akainu.
"Granny Tsuru-"
Rare hesitation mingled with the drawn-out syllable.
Facing this seventy-six-year-old Marine Vice Admiral, he did not immediately throw a punch for once.
It was not because of her aged appearance, but the subtle aura surrounding her hands-there was no killing intent, not even hostility, yet it carried an unquestionable resolve to stop him.
"Garp's grandson."
Tsuru's voice was as steady as a deep pool. "You shall not pass."
She raised her hand as gently as if straightening her collar.
Wherever her palm passed, dust vanished, stains dissolved, and even the air turned clear.
The rubble she touched spread out like smooth cloth, its edges thin enough to let light through.
This was not mere cleaning-anything her palm stroked