"You say something like that and expect me to just ignore it?"
A cold voice cut through the air from across the bridge. Aeridar and Jig turned their heads sharply toward the sound.
There, striding calmly across the bridge connecting Grove 53 and 54, was a young man clad in a jet-black suit and cape, a tall black hat perched atop his head. A black-tied pigeon rested on his shoulder. Behind him followed a dozen men in identical dark suits—an ominous procession.
"Those guys... World Government agents?" Aeridar muttered, eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the stern-faced man leading the group. There was something familiar about him.
"CP agents..." Jig's brow furrowed deeply. A sinking feeling gnawed at him.
Even Cipher Pol was making moves? It was becoming increasingly clear that the Navy and the World Government weren't playing all their cards up front.
"Chris T. Aeridar," the pigeon-wearing agent spoke evenly, his voice flat and unreadable, "you had an agreement with the World Government. If you're thinking of going back on that deal, I may have to revoke your title as a Warlord of the Sea."
Aeridar barked a laugh, raising an eyebrow at the man before glancing at Jig with a theatrical shrug. "Just messing around," he said with a smirk. "Sorry, pal—seems like even if I wanted to let you go, I can't afford to. Wouldn't want to lose my title, y'know?"
"Tch. Spare me," Jig scoffed, pointing a finger at the black-suited agents. "If you really wanted to team up, you'd help me take those guys down."
He knew Aeridar was playing with him—this jab was more taunt than challenge.
The moment Jig said that, a visible ripple of tension passed through the government agents—everyone except the pigeon-wearing man stiffened, eyes flicking nervously toward Aeridar.
The stern agent barked a reprimand over his shoulder, cold and unforgiving. "Don't disgrace yourselves. If that man wanted to take you out, none of you could stop him anyway."
Aeridar rose from his perch atop a small building, now standing at its peak, casting a chilling glare downward at Jig. "Trying to rope me into an alliance? With a pirate crew that's about to be wiped out? You're not even worth considering."
The pigeon-bearing man tilted his head slightly and issued an order under his breath. "You're not needed here. Go assist the Navy."
The black-suited agents exchanged glances and silently dispersed, moving along both flanks.
Jig didn't make a move... he couldn't. He'd known from the start that Aeridar had locked onto him with murderous intent. The slightest movement would trigger a thunderous assault.
"Kid," Jig growled, voice low and cold, "when I was carving my name across the seas, you were probably still sucking your thumb. Get a little fame, and suddenly you think you're hot shit?"
"Heh. I don't claim to be anything special..." Aeridar's lips curled into a savage grin, knees bending, muscles coiling. "But you? You're nothing I can't handle."
Like a cannonball, Aeridar launched himself off the rooftop, leaving behind a shattered ledge and spiderweb cracks in the stone.
Jig roared, his right arm turning jet black with Armament Haki, gleaming with a metallic sheen as he punched upward.
The sound was like thunder. The ground caved inward from the impact, forming a massive crater. A shockwave of force tore through the plaza, scattering dust and debris in all directions.
Aeridar landed lightly, eyes glinting with malice. "Not bad," he said, smirking.
"Bastard... what power..." Jig muttered, his hand trembling slightly, shock simmering behind his eyes.
The two locked eyes for a heartbeat, then moved simultaneously.
In a flash, they collided.
Aeridar's right fist, coated in hardened Haki, lashed out. Jig twisted his head, narrowly dodging, and countered with a gut punch.
Aeridar caught the strike with his left hand. Their fists met again in a brutal clash.
This guy... is he really a rookie? Jig thought, stunned.
With a powerful flex, Aeridar sent Jig skidding backward several steps.
Jig barely regained balance before three black, whip-like kicks came screaming toward his head.
He crossed his arms to block, but the sheer force drove him back, carving deep furrows in the ground beneath his heels.
Aeridar flicked a finger, and the air rippled.
"What the hell—" Jig's eyes went wide as he leapt sideways.
The spot where he'd just stood exploded into a shallow crater.
Sensing something, Jig looked up, yet Aeridar was already gone.
"That's... Rokushiki: Soru!" the pigeon-bearing agent muttered, surprised.
Jig glanced right, then hurled a punch.
Armament-infused limbs collided again. The resulting shockwave exploded outward in a cyclone of destructive force.
"No wonder you're called a big-name pirate in the New World..." Aeridar's right leg was braced against Jig's fist, his grin laced with menace. "I wonder... if I kill you, will that bastard Gutte be pissed?"
"Try it!" Jig growled, straining to hold back Aeridar's leg as he snapped back with equal ferocity.
Another massive crater tore open in the ground, a vortex of pressure launching debris into the air. Smoke and dust blanketed the battlefield.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Two figures burst from the haze, colliding with the sound of steel and fury. Their fight shook the very air, each strike a rolling explosion echoing across the Archipelago.
"Ha! Go to hell... Fist Style: Goldbreaker Strike!"
Jig charged forward, his entire body turning pitch-black, glinting with a metallic sheen, like a humanoid war machine. He launched a punch, and with a deafening boom, the very air shattered, an expanding white shockwave exploded outward from his fist.
It was a sonic boom, the air rupturing under the force of supersonic speed.
Aeridar grinned wide at the sight, half of his body cloaked in Armament Haki, gleaming like obsidian steel. He didn't dodge, didn't flinch, he met the attack head-on.
Fist Style: Dual-Stage Impact Fist!!!
In the next instant, two fists collided.
A thunderous roar ripped through the air, the clash of metal-on-metal echoing in waves. A terrifying force rippled outward, cratering the ground within ten meters of the impact point. The shockwave howled like a hurricane, flattening nearby buildings as if they'd been hit by a cannon blast.
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