The sword slipped from the loosened hand and clattered to a stop beside a pile of rubble.
Rossi stood where he was, watching the blood slowly seep into the cracks in the earth.
The wind blew again, carrying a faint bloody tang.
He turned and left without a second glance.
For once, the July newspapers did not feature news from the New World on their front pages.
The entire North Blue was like a pot of water suddenly brought to a boil, bubbles churning and steam shooting skyward.
A name that had once appeared only in adventure stories-Vinsmoke-became the most frequently spoken word on every street and alley overnight.
The situation changed with dizzying speed. In little more than ten days, half the map of the North Blue had already changed colors.
Only then did many people belatedly realize that the security companies they saw everywhere-Blackwater, Control Risks, Titan, and all those other large and small outfits-actually belonged to the same shadow.
Like vines, they had silently spread across more than half the North Blue, weaving a dense intelligence network as they escorted merchants' cargo, guarded nobles' estates, and even trained royal guards.
And those gathered under the Vinsmoke Family's banner went far beyond these.
The Lancer Pirates' flags appeared along the coastline, the Blazing Flame Commerce Guild's fleets brought supplies, and there was that family that had only recently risen to prominence... Their experts tore through defensive lines and plunged into the heartland like tempered blades.
The soldiers following close behind wore matching uniforms, their steps so perfectly synchronized that it was chilling.
Cities fell one after another, as swiftly as the tide washed over a beach.
By the sixth week of July, the flags of more than a dozen non-affiliated nations had already been taken down.
Half