The schools of fish had scattered in panic hours ago, leaving only slowly sinking wood chips and intermittent blooms of dark red, like festering scabs clinging to the deep blue.
But there was no need to worry. Within a few days and nights, the currents would erase every trace, as though cannon fire had never sounded here.
"You're a step too late."
By the time Rossi leaped onto the deck from the shimmering waves, the battle was long over.
Doffy stood there, a body that no longer made a sound lying at his feet.
His pink coat was almost soaked through with another color. Even the few subordinates beside him were wet and sticky all over, whether with seawater or something else was impossible to tell.
"Most of it isn't ours."
Vergo wiped his cheek and added earnestly.
Rossi looked away.
Some words rose to his lips, then sank back down-in these waters, victory often did not mean survival.
The hiss of jets beneath boots drew closer.
The Vinsmoke Family's soldiers landed on the warship, which was covered in stains and slippery grime. Their metal heels struck the planks with particular clarity.
The man in the lead lowered his head.
"Gentlemen, our casualties... exceeded expectations."
That was an understatement.
Every time the man who could control vibrations raised his hand, the hull **, and masts split apart.
Ordinary flesh and blood were like paper before him. Even steel could not withstand that invisible rending force.
Though he had ultimately been pinned down in a pool of blood, the destruction he alone had wrought before then exceeded that of an entire fleet.
The smell of saltpeter and rust still hung in the air, but the screams had ceased.
Only stifled panting remained, along with the clamor of scraping ropes, rolling barrels,