Marine Headquarters, Marineford.
Rain sheeted down without end.
In the ink-black sky, lightning flared and thunder rolled—yet inside the most heavily guarded fortress on the planet, an eerie hush had fallen, as if the world itself had been muted.
No formations moved. Patrol battleships continued their fixed routes, as if the battle that had raged before the high-ranking officers' residences had never happened.
In front of the Japanese-style mansion—
The neighboring blocks lay in ruins, the quarter reduced to rubble. Civilians had been evacuated long before. The area stood deserted, silent as a grave.
BOOM!!
Two pitch-black fists met in midair, black lightning crackling as the impact kicked a shockwave through the rain.
Both figures skidded back across the slick stone for more than ten meters before digging in.
"Tch, tch, tch. Truly worthy of the youngest Admiral in Marine history," CP0's Demon Grass said, eyeing his twisted right wrist with clinical detachment and a sinister chuckle. "Your close-quarters skill and the bite of your Haki are monstrous."
He seized the joint and snapped it back.
Crack. The wrist set; flesh buds swelled from the torn fibers like a creeping bloom, sprouting in clusters that made the skin crawl.
When the hand knit whole, Demon Grass lifted his gaze. A cold smile spread beneath the mask as he looked at the former Marine Admiral—panting in the downpour.
"But I wonder, Zephyr—how much longer can that body hold out?"
He raised both hands. The flesh buds along his fingers continued to grow with eerie, spore-like life.
His eyes narrowed to Zephyr's left hand, now filmed in crawling growth. A low, demonic laugh scraped out from the mask.
"As a Paramecia Spore-Spore Fruit user, I'd wager that arm is already going numb."
Zephyr drew breath through the cold rain; each exhale steamed white.
He glanced at his left hand. Pitch-black, purplish tissue had spread from wrist to forearm and was still creeping upward. Worse, with each invasion, his grip slackened—control bleeding away.
"So your regenerative trick… that's the fruit as well, isn't it?" A hard, mocking smile tugged at his mouth. "For a moment, I almost thought you were immortal."
"If I keep using it without care… how long can I last?" Demon Grass echoed, then sneered. " 'Immortality' is a privilege of Their Excellencies alone. I'm not so honored."
His figure vanished like a pale ghost in the rain.
The downpour bucked.
In a blink he crossed dozens of meters, materializing at Zephyr's flank, slender leg whipping down.
Rankyaku: Sudden Assault!
"…Just long enough to cut down a wheezing old man!"
Zephyr had already felt him coming with Observation Haki. He answered with his own Rankyaku—moving last, striking first.
Bang. Rain burst outward.
Tempest Kick slammed into Tempest Kick. CP0's right leg bent grotesquely—and he didn't so much as flinch.
"Zephyr-san, did you know?" His voice was almost conversational. "My spores continually grow and fuse with a target's flesh. Even your Haki can't purge it."
"It's thanks to this bizarre power that Saint Warcury personally raised me to CP0's highest rank."
"Combat power comparable to a Marine Admiral—the Celestial Dragons' Ultimate Shield."
"I don't need to beat you head-on. Once the spores infest an arm—or your whole body—you'll blossom into a magnificent fungal bloom."
His tone turned fanatical, like a cultist praising a dark god. "A colony nurtured by the flesh of an Admiral-class body… the most beautiful life in the world."
"Lunatic," Zephyr said, voice flat, expression unmoving.
The composure seemed to grate. Demon Grass's smile warped.
"You think you can protect that woman?" he sneered. "You can't stop me—and your greenhorn students can't stop my men."
"Today will be just like before."
"The difference is… today you'll have the privilege of watching Darren's wife and children die in front of you."
Zephyr's pupils pinpricked.
Time stalled. The rain roared.
Watching the Admiral blanch, Demon Grass's laugh climbed in pitch. To CP0, the mandate carved into bone was simple: become fighters "second to none—not even Marine Admirals." To kill one was a summit few could even dream of.
Seeing Zephyr fray at the edges, he trembled with exultation.
Just like this… I was born to defeat you, Zephyr-san.
"No. You're wrong about two things," the former Admiral rasped at last, voice hoarse in the cold. Purple hair hung soaked and wild around his face.
"Unlike you machines, I believe in my students more than anyone. Their potential is limitless."
Demon Grass snorted. "And the other?"
"The other is…"
Zephyr lifted his head.
His bloodshot eyes burned crimson. Rage and killing intent flared so hard that CP0 recoiled on instinct.
"You lot have no idea what a true Marine Admiral is."
"It's just an arm…"
Under CP0's stunned stare, Zephyr broke into a fierce, almost joyful grin.
"…I can give you that."
He clamped his right hand over his left shoulder and twisted hard.
Rip.
He tore his own arm free. It hit the shattered flagstones with a wet thud.
Blood fountained. Zephyr staggered, face gone paler, grimmer—yet his eyes blazed brighter than ever.
He laughed.
His aura surged like a mountain rearing up from the earth, rising higher, higher still—as if the legendary Black Arm who once ruled the seas had raised the snow-white Seagull Flag once more.
"But your life… belongs to me now."
"Not just for Toki… but for…"
Zephyr's eyes widened. His aura detonated—black lightning weaving into a dense net as murderous intent flooded the air.
"—for my wife and children!!"
To be continued...