(T/N: Guys I didn't abandon the novel, there weren't any chapters to translate anymore I caught up to the author last time and I actually forgot to tell you this, well it does make sense since I dropped more than 100 chapter here in less than a month and 50 more on ... but instead of thanking me some people started saying bad things ^^!)
"Do you want a wife?"
Faced with Klein's sudden question, Os's ears flushed red. He hesitated, then replied in a voice barely above a whisper, "Yes... if she can bear children, then yes."
"It's just... that's not something one-sided."
Klein felt that this guy was bashful to an absurd degree—like some innocent schoolboy.
He reached out and patted Os on the shoulder. "Good opportunity coming up. Make sure to play the hero and save the damsel later, alright?"
"Huh?" Os hadn't even processed what he meant before Klein had already strode off confidently ahead.
He hurried to catch up, when the Den Den Mushi in his arms suddenly rang.
Brrleh-brrleh-brrleh—
Brrleh-brrleh-brrleh—
Os fumbled to pull it out, picked up the receiver, and at once the Den Den Mushi sprouted white brows and beard, as a furious voice bellowed through:
"Get that bastard on the line!!"
The sheer volume made Os break out in a cold sweat. He stammered, "Fleet Admiral Oharden, Rear Admiral Klein just entered Area 21 of the Sabaody Archipelago!"
"Give him the damn Den Den Mushi! Why the hell hasn't he reported to the New World yet?!"
Os wiped the sweat from his brow. "Y-Yes sir! I'll go find Rear Admiral Klein right away!"
"...This is bad. This is really bad." Os stared at the sky, his face ashen. He muttered bleakly, "The Fleet Admiral himself called… Klein Rear Admiral…"
His career in the Marines…
Completely over. He was doomed to be blamed. Punished.
He might even be stripped of his rank.
With a face full of dread, practically on the verge of tears, he turned and barked at the Marines behind him, "All units—double time! Move out!"
As Klein stepped into the bar district of Area 21, a desperate scream pierced the air.
"Yamete—Yamete!! Somebody help me!!"
He dug a finger into his ear and muttered, "Tch… No idea what she looks like, but maybe I can set her up with Os if she's decent."
Powell, clearly annoyed, turned and seized the girl by her swan-like pale neck. His eyes gleamed viciously, face twisted with a snarl. Her throat reddened under his grip.
"You know yelling's pointless, right? Save that strength for the bed."
"N-No—!" The girl trembled in terror, her wide eyes filled with loathing and tears. "Don't—Yamete!" The source of this content ɪs 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵·𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖·𝙣𝙚𝙩
"Heh..." Powell sneered. "Open those pretty eyes and look around. No one's coming to save you."
He dragged her up, forcing her to look at the people around her. Everyone averted their eyes or turned away in shame.
A hand suddenly clapped him on the shoulder twice.
Without turning around, Powell snapped, "If you're lost, ask someone else. I'm busy!"
But then he noticed something strange—his men all had faces full of fear, as if facing an enemy army.
A chill ran down Powell's spine.
He whirled around—standing before him was a scrawny little Marine... Rear Admiral??
How did a Marine show up so fast?
That made no damn sense!
In Powell's grip, the girl's eyes lit up with hope. She mustered her strength to plead, "H-Help... me..."
Powell glared murderously at Klein. "Oi, Marine. I've got dibs on this chick. Back off, or else—"
Behind him, his underlings raised rifles and blades, surrounding Klein.
"...You got money?" Klein eyed the hulking man in front of him.
"Money?" Powell blinked, then burst into laughter. "Of course I do!"
He pulled a wad of green bills from his pocket—100,000 Berries—and held it out to Klein.
"One hundred grand. For your drink. I'm taking the girl. Let's pretend this never happened."
The girl, who'd seen a sliver of hope, suddenly turned pale.
Her eyes, once shimmering, went dull. Deeper despair filled her gaze. She looked at Klein with disgust and contempt.
The higher the hope, the sharper the fall.
And the bystanders? They all turned away in disappointment. Their eyes dimmed.
Another Marine who stood by, rotten to the core, colluding with pirates.
The white-haired man, John, furrowed his brow. "When did a Rear Admiral that young get stationed on Sabaody?"
"How come I've never heard of him?"
Perplexed, he sipped his drink.
Back on the street, in full view of the crowd—
"A hundred grand..." Klein suddenly grinned. "You think I'm some beggar you can fob off with scraps?"
Powell's face darkened. He tossed the girl to one of his men. "Watch her. Don't let her run."
He then slammed his massive iron hammer to the ground.
The street trembled. The stone beneath cracked, dust kicking up.
Towering above, Powell stared down like a feral beast. His body reeked of blood and violence. He bared his teeth.
"100,000 Berries is enough to buy a fine slave at the auction. Don't push your luck."
"Or I'll just kill you and flee straight to the New World. Hahahaha—"
Klein looked genuinely disappointed. His eyes gleamed with disgust. "Tch! So you really are just a broke piece of trash."
"If you're broke, then what the hell are you flexing for?!"
Did you think I came to Sabaody for a damn vacation?
To collect protection fees?
I came for the cash. Pirates pillage and burn—they should have money.
And what do I find first? A broke-ass pirate.
A bottom-tier pirate among bottom-tier pirates. The last time I saw one this pathetic was in a comment section.
"Broke?!" Powell exploded with fury. "I've got a 65 million Berries bounty! I'm the Supernova with god-given strength—Powell!"
"You know how heavy this hammer is!?"
"One smash from me can turn a man into paste!!"
"Ooooh~" Klein's eyes twinkled. "Sixty-five million, huh? Not bad. Your life's worth a little cash, at least."
"And that hammer—if I sell it for scrap, it'll still fetch something."
That was it. Powell snapped.
He roared, muscles bulging, and raised the five-ton hammer high above his head, slamming it down with all his might.
The wind howled with the swing.
Around them, civilians shut their eyes in terror, unwilling to watch the gory explosion to come.
Powell's expression froze. His hammer had stopped. Something had blocked it.
He was Powell! The one blessed with monstrous strength!
He poured every ounce of power into his swing. Veins bulged along his arms, neck, and forehead.
But no matter how hard he pushed…
The hammer wouldn't budge.
Behind him, his crew broke out into cold sweat, panic rising.
"H-Hey… That guy—he stopped the captain's hammer with one finger!?"
"No way! That's insane! Our captain's strength is superhuman! A single finger stopped that?!"
"An illusion! It has to be an illusion!!!"
"This is nuts! That kid's barely up to the captain's waist—how the hell is he holding off the hammer like it's nothing?!"
In the middle of it all, Klein stood calm, indifferent.
He raised one finger.
Just a single finger—effortlessly holding back the massive iron hammer.
No matter how much Powell strained, the hammer refused to move an inch.
Inside the bar, John's pupils contracted. The bottle slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor.
"That young Rear Admiral... terrifying strength."
"Compared to him, the Rear Admiral stationed here is nothing but dead weight!"