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Chapter 1104: Wouldn't It Be Better to Be a Fisherman?
Chapter 1104: Wouldn't It Be Better to Be a Fisherman?
This technique of grabbing empty air to compress massive quantities into a single strike was identical to how a bear used elasticity to compress air. However, the hierarchical relationship of abilities differed, as did their applications.
A bear could rebound anything—pain included.
But Sazil’s "strike" could only affect external physical matter, making it a lesser hierarchical Devil Fruit in scope.
Still, it achieved the intended attack effect.
“This density is too low. It might work on an ordinary person,” Kuro commented.
“Roar!!”
As he spoke, Klah crouched low, his chest swelling as he inhaled deeply. Then he roared, unleashing a violent air blast that pierced the surrounding air wall like a blade through glass, shattering it into howling gusts that spiraled outward.
“Is that all you’ve got?!”
Klah vanished, reappearing before Sazil in a flash. His razor-sharp claws pinned the man to the ground, fangs bared inches from his face as he raged, “Snap out of it, Sazil! What the hell are you thinking?!”
The deafening roar and explosive fury behind it sent shockwaves rippling through the air, rattling Sazil’s body. He stared blankly at Klah, crimson eyes slowly sharpening into clarity before rolling back—then he collapsed, unconscious.
Out cold?
Klah narrowed his eyes at Sazil for a moment, then exhaled in relief. Despite everything, the subordinate had trained under him for years. Of course there’d be some attachment. If Sazil had still resisted, he’d have knocked him out and dragged him back anyway. This saved trouble.
“That waste of space was no match for you, but I’m still here!”
At that moment, William scoffed from the sidelines, having held back during Sazil’s attack. Though hatred for Kuro burned in his heart, his pride as a Seven Warlords of the Sea forbade him from ganging up. Now that the Navy officer provoking him had fallen, it was his turn.
Drawing his rapier, William shouted at Kuro, “I’m nothing like that Navy of yours—I’m a Seven Warlords of the Sea! You beat me before, but now? Who knows? Maybe—”
Before he could finish, his voice slurred into a guttural groan. His body collapsed like a boneless rag doll.
As William crumpled, Lida stepped from the shadows, retracting her hand. She stared at the limp figure, puzzled. “What are you doing?”
“I… I must defeat…” William growled, his body trembling as he tried to speak.
Lida stomped him into the ground, activating her ability to drain the last dregs of energy from his body. His eyes rolled back, white and unseeing, as he passed out cold.
“What was he trying to do?” Lida tilted her head, asking no one in particular.
“Don’t bother. Two fools who fell for someone’s ability,” Kuro rolled his eyes, muttering.
He’d actually held some hope for William earlier. Now? Even the Seven Warlords of the Sea couldn’t escape ability effects.
Abilities were absolute—undeniable. Even Kuro himself couldn’t guarantee complete immunity.
At the very least, he knew he couldn’t resist the “Toy Devil Fruit” or “Phantom Devil Fruit.”
The Grand Line had no shortage of horrors.
Meanwhile, the Sam Pirates’ officers watching from a distance exhaled in relief. They’d feared William’s reckless attack on Kuro—Golden Lion himself, now an Admiral. He’d openly declared his fear of Kuro earlier, so why provoke him again?
But judging from the outcome, this wouldn’t escalate.
Two nuisances dealt with. But the remaining foes posed a real challenge.
Their immunity to Killing Intent meant large-scale incapacitation was out of the question.
“Time for a change,” Kuro muttered.
Autumn Water had failed. Now he’d try the Yokai Blade. If they kept this up, he’d slaughter every last man on the island himself—no need for Pacifista.
“Not Borsalino?”
A cold voice slithered through the air. Kuro’s expression shifted. He tightened his grip on Autumn Water, slashing a Haki-infused arc across the ground.
Boom!
The blade carved a deep gash into the earth.
“Pointless.”
The voice sneered again. From the gash crawled countless purplish-black shadows, slithering across the battlefield like living things. They coalesced, forming a human silhouette. The upper half emerged first—pale white hair, a gaunt face with a hooked nose, lips tinged blackish-purple, clad in a purplish-black buttoned jacket. The sinister figure fixed Kuro with a gloomy stare.
“Golden? Why not Borsalino, hm?!”
Whoosh!
Kuro didn’t waste words. He vanished, reappearing before the old man. His blade—a streak of pitch-black light—sliced toward the figure’s head.
The cut passed through harmlessly. Kuro raised an eyebrow. “A phantom image? No… you have a life aura. Real, but… an ability?”
“Not Borsalino!” The old man ignored the attack entirely, snarling, “Aren’t they sending an Admiral?!”
“This is the Admiral!” Klah barked.
“The new Admiral—World’s Greatest Swordsman! He crushed Blackbeard’s ambush, dueled two Four Emperors, and earned the title ‘Old Era Bane’! Golden Lion Admiral!”
The old man frowned. “You’re the Admiral?”
“Got a problem with the Old Man’s rank? Looking for Gramps? Enemy?” Kuro bared his teeth. “This whole mess was your doing. I’d rethink that attitude—unless you’d like a taste of what I can really do!”
“An Admiral?! Hahaha! You, an Admiral?!”
The old man sneered, scanning Kuro up and down. “Fine, Admiral it is. Doesn’t matter. Borsalino’s as good as gone. You’re just unlucky—after I’m done, I’ll find Borsalino. Eventually.”
“This guy…” Klah eyed the old man, frowning. “Mr. Kuro… he’s a sixth level prisoner.”
“Figures!” Kuro spat. “Only retired old men like you would stir up trouble. Listen, old man—nothing to do? Why not take up fishing? Being a fisherman’s a lot more peaceful than being a washed-up pirate!”
(End of Chapter)
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