At the center of the room, more than a dozen carefully encrypted and modified Transponder Snails were arranged neatly on a metal round table.
The strange little creatures lay there quietly, their eyes flashing with peculiar light as they projected holographic images one after another.
Some of the images were blurred, as though veiled behind a thin layer of gauze.
The faint silhouettes of branch commanders flickered within them, swaying slightly under the interference of electric static, as if they might vanish from the illusion at any moment.
Just then, a sharp burst of static suddenly rang out.
Bzzzt…
Then an anxious and exhausted voice came from the speaker.
"G-5 Branch has been paralyzed…"
The one speaking was North Blue Branch Commander Holmes.
His image was extremely unstable, flickering between light and dark as though struggling against some invisible force.
Behind him came the chilling sound of plants growing wildly, a terrifying noise like a roar from the depths of hell, filled with strangeness and fear.
Suddenly, a shrill scream tore through the tense atmosphere.
Within the holographic image, thick vines shot out like venomous snakes, wrapping tightly around a soldier's body.
The soldier struggled desperately, but he could not break free from the deadly restraint. Despair and agony filled his face.
Before everyone could recover from the shock, an arrogant voice rang through the entire communications room.
"Those who resist become fertilizer!"
It was Ryokugyu's provocative, contemptuous laughter.
Along with that laughter, the signal cut off without warning, as if severed by an invisible hand, leaving behind only dead silence and endless suspense.
...
West Blue, 22nd Branch.
Usually, this branch seemed calm enough on the surface.
Now, however, it was as though a heavy bomb had been dropped into it, throwing everything into chaos.
The entire branch had submitted resignations collectively.
The news spread like a hurricane, shocking everyone who heard it.
In that tense, oppressive atmosphere, Rear Admiral Morris's image suddenly lit up without warning.
The clear picture seemed to carry an invisible pressure as it appeared before everyone's eyes.
Behind him was a solemn armory. Inside, the soldiers looked grave and resolute as they placed their sidearms neatly on the ground one by one in an orderly fashion.
Every gun had once carried a mission and responsibility. Now, they were being quietly set aside, as though telling the story of something about to end.
Just then, a small accident occurred.
Someone, in the middle of the panic, accidentally knocked over an oil lamp nearby.
In an instant, the flickering firelight illuminated the entire room and clearly revealed the shocking slogan painted on the wall.
We are not butchers.
The bright red color looked as though it had been written in life and blood.
Every word was filled with strength and resistance, standing out painfully in the dim room, shouting their unwillingness and justice to the world.
On the edge of the East Blue, the atmosphere was especially strange and tense.
"Here in the East Blue, we might as well pretend we never received the order…"
The soft murmur drifted slowly through the air, carrying both helplessness and resolve.
Old Blake of the 16th Branch was tiredly rubbing his throbbing temples.
His figure was slightly hunched, and the years had carved deep lines into his face.
Behind him was a busy yet orderly scene.
At the harbor, Marines in neat uniforms looked solemn as they quickly fed the terrifying extermination orders into buzzing shredders with great care.
The moment the paper was dragged into the machines, faint tearing sounds rang out, as if telling some hidden story.
Then, in that seemingly calm atmosphere, the image suddenly shook violently, as though struck by a powerful impact.
Along with the shaking, a drunken voice thundered out like an explosion.
"I only arrest pirates! I don't kill civilians!"
The voice was bold and stubborn, carrying a drunken wildness.
Jonathan stood there quietly and took a deep drag from his cigar.
Smoke curled around him, and the red glow reflected through the haze onto his firm face, making the prominent scar at the corner of his eye look even more fierce and mysterious.
That scar had been left twenty years ago during a fierce clash with the notorious Bonecrusher, carrying the memory of a shocking battle.
"Everyone…"
Jonathan slowly spoke, his voice low and powerful, every word carrying tremendous weight.
But just as he said those few words, all the previously stable holographic images suddenly distorted violently.
The once-clear images became blurred, as though some invisible force were stirring the virtual world without restraint.
At the same time, the situation inside the communications room worsened rapidly.
The lights no longer shone steadily as usual. Instead, they began flickering again and again, the alternating brightness and darkness dazzling everyone's eyes.
On the dials of various precision instruments, the needles spun wildly like untamed horses, giving off piercing hums.
On the monitoring screens, the green dots that had originally represented the safe positions of each branch were being swallowed one after another by vivid blood-red.
As time passed, those blood-red dots gradually gathered together and somehow formed the World Government's scale emblem, the symbol of absolute authority.
"This is suicide."
Jonathan murmured, his voice carrying a trace of sorrow and despair.
Before his words had fully faded, the cigar clenched in his hand slipped and fell to the floor, scattering a cluster of bright sparks.
The sparks flashed briefly in the silent room, then quickly went out, as if foreshadowing the death of some kind of hope.
The final image focused on a close-up of Mary Geoise's main screen.
One of the Five Elders, Saint Saturn, stood there with a cane in hand, his expression cold and imposing.
His cane slowly rose.
Every time it came down, it landed precisely on one of their photographs.
With each tap, the coordinates of one branch were mercilessly locked inside a glaring red circle, as though the shackles of fate were tightening step by step.
...
Dawn.
When the first ray of sunlight, sharp and pure as a blade, struggled to pierce through the thick, sticky fog hanging above G-8 Branch, it seemed to tear open the entire world.
By the harbor, the once-quiet air trembled faintly beneath that light.
A sentry faithfully standing guard was staring intently at the surface of the sea.
---------
Read 50 chapters ahead and support me on patreon.
patreon (.)com/Newbietranslator