The immense recoil lifted his heavy body, and the old man used the momentum to stride forward.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Pillars of water shot skyward, one after another.
Just like that, he stepped across the sea, each footfall a thunderclap, and "walked" toward
the target warship.
Inside the windmill-shaped gun emplacement, in the shelter known as the "Bishop"
position.
"Hmph. They plead poverty when it's time to hand over the Heavenly Tribute, but spare no expense buying new cannons."
The black-clad man in a top hat snorted. With a casual sweep of his long blade, he traced a glaring scarlet arc across the ground, then deftly sheathed it.
Around him lay several burst cannons and gunners sprawled every which way, all motionless.
He was about to turn toward his next target when the flagstones beside his feet suddenly rippled. A figure slowly emerged from within them.
"Pica?"
The black-clad man stopped, his gaze scrutinizing beneath his hat brim.
"Why are you here?"
As he questioned him, he walked naturally toward the boy with the floral neckerchief and slightly curly black hair.
"Your mission was to remain undercover at Jora's side and wait for a chance to eliminate that criminal.
"If you're here, does that mean you-"
Before he finished, his figure abruptly blurred!
A black afterimage tore through the air, lunging straight at the newly emerged Pica! A silver blade flashed and vanished. The black-clad man wielding the peculiar long blade was already behind the boy, a smear of fresh, wet red staining its edge.
"-betrayed CP3, and betrayed the World ** as well?"
He raised a hand to straighten his top hat. His habitual gentle expression had vanished, leaving only cold indifference.
He slowly turned.
The specially made blade in his hand was nearly a meter long, its