"Damn, they're that strong?! Even that reckless guy from the Navy's hawkish faction — the one Fleet Admiral Sakazuki personally backed — was taken out by them! And Evans too, that bastard! Two of the Navy's most promising rising stars, dead!"
Elver cursed out loud, face twisting with shock, his chubby cheeks jiggling miserably.
"Ughhh~ how the hell are they only just now reaching the Grand Line?!"
"Come now, Elver-sama, try not to embarrass yourself," said Paradi, frowning slightly. "According to the intel, it seems Golden Ring Aeridar fought a brutal two-on-one battle against White Devil Evans and Cold-Blade Swordsman Farlier in Loguetown. All three sides ended up severely wounded. That's why the Chris Pirates have been laying low for six months. But even so, several of Chris's officers got bounties placed on their heads — totaling up to 270 million berries."
"Tch... seriously troublesome!" Elver groaned, setting aside his teacup and scratching his head — which, to Paradi's exasperation, caused one of his hands to involuntarily morph into a thick, shaggy bear paw.
Yes, a paw — brown, furry, and massive like a bear's.
"Show some dignity, Elver-sama. Put away the paw," Paradi sighed, shooting him a look of resignation.
Across the world, there were many slave-hunting organizations, but among them, Elver and Paradi's team, the "Crimson Man-Eating Flower," had a notorious reputation. Even infamous pirates in the New World knew their name — and some had even collaborated with them.
Elver's full name was Nisaro Elver, age 34, born in the South Blue. A descendant of a fallen noble house, he was the user of the Bear-Bear Fruit, Model: Grizzly Bear — a Zoan-type Devil Fruit. Nicknamed "Fat Bear," he was far stronger than most rookie pirates; even some of the Supernovas weren't a match for him. He was also proficient in both Armament and Observation Haki.
A lucky encounter had once earned him connections with the Celestial Dragons, and from then on, he became a human trafficker, specializing in "specialty slaves" for the Celestial Dragons and wealthy nobles: merfolk, longarm and longleg tribesmen, and pirate captains.
As for Paradi, nicknamed the "Butler Agent," he was a 40-year-old former CP agent who defected from the World Government. A master of Rokushiki and both forms of Haki, he had once been injured and saved by a young Elver — ever since, he had served loyally as Elver's right-hand man. Thanks to Elver's Celestial Dragon ties, Paradi's criminal record had even been erased from the government's blacklist.
"Man, these rookies are impressive!" Elver whistled, but quickly shifted gears. "Well, since things are heating up... might as well see if we can make a little harvest, huh?"
As he spoke, his thick bear paw shifted smoothly back into a pale, pudgy human hand.
Elver wasn't afraid of Supernova-level rookies. Their Devil Fruit powers could be annoying, sure, but to him, rookies were still rookies. He was a grizzled veteran who had survived over a decade on the high seas.
The real reason he avoided messing with high-potential pirates wasn't fear — it was practicality.
If you failed to capture them, and they grew stronger under a Yonko's banner or carved out their own empire, revenge was inevitable. Elver and Paradi weren't out for grudges; they just wanted to get rich.
Besides, some of these Supernovas weren't just strong — some had insanely troublesome abilities. Even with their own Haki prowess, a single misstep could mean disaster.
Paradi gave a sharp nod and turned away to carry out the plan.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM BOOM BOOM—!!
The cannonfire intensified as the two ships closed in, each salvo more accurate than the last.
Solid cannonballs smashed across the sea, sending up massive sprays of water, rocking the gigantic ships like they were mere playthings of the ocean.
Aboard the Chris, Oliver and Arlan stepped forward, slicing and deflecting cannonballs that would have otherwise slammed into their ship.
Meanwhile, over on the Saint Florent, Paradi matched their efforts, cutting apart incoming shells with clean, precise Tempest Kicks.
"Ugh, what a pain in the ass," Elver muttered, watching the Chris Pirates' officers working to intercept the bombardment. His headache only grew worse by the second.
"Elver-sama, it's the high-bounty officers from the Chris Pirates," Paradi observed coolly, recognizing Oliver and Arlan's combat strength at a glance.
As a former CP agent, Paradi had once been hunted relentlessly by government operatives after his defection. Without top-tier skill, he would've been dead long ago.
In fact, before defecting, Paradi had been slated for promotion to CP9 — and his mastery of the Rokushiki arts, combined with his dual Haki expertise, put him on par with even Rob Lucci himself.
At a distance of 150 meters — now well within striking range — Oliver narrowed his eyes. He raised his blade Nagamitsu to measure the gap, then drew Yubashiri from his waist. Muscles tensing, he slashed forward with both swords in a sharp, practiced motion.
A massive, bird-shaped shockwave burst from the void — blue-white in color, hurtling through the air with incredible speed. It screeched across the sky, so sharp it seemed to slice the very atmosphere itself, aiming to cut the Saint Florent clean in two.
Two-Sword Style: Garuda Slash!
Standing at the ship's prow, Paradi's expression changed drastically. He hadn't expected such a powerful ranged attack.
Reacting instantly, he launched forward, stepping hard off the deck with Geppo, twisting midair, and coiling his leg tightly.
With a thunderous snap, Paradi kicked — hard.
The air itself seemed to catch fire, a scorching heatwave filling the sky.
A roaring blade of flame, towering three or four meters high, materialized out of nothing, racing straight toward the incoming bird-shaped slash.
Rankyaku: Flame Rend!
The two devastating attacks collided midair, the impact loud enough to drown out the thunder of cannons.
Fire and shockwaves exploded outward, turning the sky into a searing inferno.
"That movement... that's Geppo and Rankyaku!"
Aeridar's eyes widened as he watched the clash unfold.
Since when did even slavers master Rokushiki like it was nothing?
"Tch. A Rankyaku powerful enough to ignite the air through friction..."
Oliver narrowed his eyes, analyzing the enemy's technique.
That level of precision and force — not something a common thug could pull off.
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