"Why..."
"Why did that Sand Crocodile make a move?!!"
Wearing a long coat, with a golden hook gleaming coldly, Crocodile suddenly appeared, blocking Mihawk’s black blade.
Everyone’s attention was instantly seized by this unexpected turn of events.
One of the underlings couldn’t hold back, cupped his hands around his mouth like a horn, and shouted loudly:
"Crocodile-sama, we want to know... is that... is that Orin-sama really the real one!!!"
A voice rang out from the crowd. But when everyone turned to see who was speaking, they saw only a vast sea of people, eyes wide open, craning their necks with anticipation.
"Hiss... ha..."
Crocodile’s face was shadowed as he swept his gaze over the gathered elites of every faction. The corner of his mouth curved slightly upward.
Then the words that ca out of his mouth made everyone jolt, eyes wide and pupils trembling in shock:
"Ah... yes, that guy is a fake."
After a brief silence, countless pairs of eyes instantly locked onto "Orin."
"Ahhhhhh!!!!"
"Are you serious?!"
"So Orin-sama is actually fake? You can’t even tell!!!"
"But both Hawk Eyes and Sand Crocodile said so..."
Even the two most trusted and favored by the Dark Emperor had said it. Even the most stubborn couldn’t help but cast doubtful glances at "Orin."
Faced with so much suspicion,
Bentham had already accepted his fate.
If it’s death, so be it...
He looked around and saw many reporters already capturing the scene, docunting the ruins. Surely by tomorrow, the destruction of over half of Fishman Island would hit the front pages of every major newspaper.
The goal was already achieved.
Slowly closing his eyes, he resigned himself.
As long as this sea still rembered the deterrence of that man, it was enough...
"I never once treated you as my subordinate, and yet you remain so loyal?"
A faint chuckle sounded.
Like thunder exploding inside Bentham’s skull, the voice was so familiar it shook him to his core.
This is...!!!
On the battlefield of Fishman Island,
many strong fighters saw "Orin" closing his eyes, sitting quietly, and their gazes instantly turned hostile.
This was their chance!
They didn’t know why Crocodile had appeared and blocked Mihawk, but this was definitely an opportunity to strike.
After all, with both Crocodile and Mihawk—two proud warriors who would never lie—confirming it, and after their own judgnt as well, they were certain this "Orin" was 100% fake. Their eyes grew sharp.
"Zheng—"
A CP0 in a white robe seized the chance, a gloved hand extending one finger, instantly coated in Armant Haki.
No words wasted—Soru plus Armant Shigan as the opening strike.
Boom—
A tall figure with terrifying mobility, clad entirely in black leather without a trace of skin exposed—King—now had flas burning along his blade.
He leapt high into the air, instantly slashing down toward "Orin"—
"Die!!!"
Elsewhere, the First Sweet Commander—Katakuri—was far more cautious. His narrowed eyes glowed red as he muttered,
"A look of panic... it must be true."
From beneath his massive scarf ca a low, magnetic voice. The trident spun once.
"Mocha Piercing Thrust!!!"
In an instant, countless overwhelming auras locked onto "Orin." Feeling this imminent threat to his life, Bentham’s expression instinctively showed panic.
It was the natural reaction of life facing death.
But in that sa instant, ti seed to freeze. A whisper sounded again in his ear.
"Interesting~"
Unconsciously, the panic on "Orin’s" face vanished,
though his outward appearance hadn’t changed at all. The figure with closed eyes suddenly seed to straighten, his handso features tightening, his slightly open lips closing again as a faint curve ford.
All those striking at Orin instantly felt a chill down their spines, as if their lives had beco fragile, hanging on the edge of hell.
The once-panicked Orin slowly lifted a hand.
Sitting upright, like a sovereign utterly confident, like an emperor ruling over all, smiling faintly.
A magnetic voice rang out, making those who could no longer pull back widen their eyes in bloodshot strain.
"Void·Almighty Push..."
Silence—
A divine force erupted from that raised palm, twisting everything, the Warp-Warp Fruit’s power spreading outward from him like a god’s judgnt.
Those further away—re lackeys—felt sothing wrong and bolted.
But those right in Orin’s face felt their bodies twist, space collapsing around them. No matter what they tried, they couldn’t resist.
Puaaah—
Blood spattered, eyes rolling white as bodies were hurled back. Fishman Island itself began to collapse, the ground shattering, everything annihilated...
Much later,
in the cloud of dust, soone crawled out of the rubble, pushing aside fallen beams, rubbing his head.
The mont he opened his eyes, he froze in horror, pupils shaking wildly, jaw dropping open, stamring,
"H-hey... hey... what the hell, this kind of destructive power..."
Before him lay a massive crater, a kiloter wide, neat and clean like the scar of a teor strike, an ability on par with a natural disaster!!!
In the distant pit, a few scattered figures lay unmoving, their life or death uncertain, breaths faint if at all.
Above the sky, a lone figure sat cross-legged in the air.
His face shadowed, unreadable, but his eyes shone scarlet as he calmly overlooked the land below.
"Those eyes..."
"Could it be..."
All the survivors on the crater’s edge trembled violently, dropping to their knees, until two figures erged.
One had withstood it at the edge, the other reford slowly from sand, both standing now at the very front.
"I figured you’d make a big move the mont you stepped in, but changing the entire terrain of Fishman Island? That’s a bit much~"
Crocodile smirked, cigar once again between his lips.
Mihawk remained as cold and aloof as ever, but his voice softened slightly when he looked at Orin.
"Vanished for two years..."
"Orin."
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