Chapter 25 — A Pirate Worth Two Hundred Million? One Strike!
The once-grand hall of the royal palace was now a ruin.
Silver tableware had been swept off the tables, the gilded walls stripped bare, and every gold-plated ornament crammed into bulging sacks piled up in the corners.
On the throne lounged Newk, legs sprawled and expression drunk with arrogance. A goblet in one hand, a half-dressed noblewoman clutched in the other, he looked perfectly at ease. At his feet lay the corpse of Nicola McCartney, the late king of Neil Kingdom, his final expression frozen in agony.
The woman in Newk's arms trembled, eyes wide with terror. She tried not to look at her husband's body on the floor—but no matter how she turned her head, her gaze kept drifting back. Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes, held back only by sheer will.
Below the throne, the pirates of the Newk Pirates drank and cheered wildly. Some were already so drunk they had begun to dance in the middle of the hall. The palace maids moved among them in fear, refilling goblets with shaking hands. One young maid, unable to bear the horror any longer, broke down and began to sob.
The laughter stopped at once.
Newk's grin vanished. His eyes darkened as he slowly set down his cup and fixed his gaze on the trembling girl.
Before she could even beg for mercy, a glob of mud shot from his hand and splattered across her face.
The stench of earth filled the air. The maid convulsed for a moment, then collapsed to the floor, motionless.
The pirates exchanged glances—and burst into laughter. Death was entertainment to them. They went right back to drinking, dancing, and pulling the terrified maids into their laps. One of them sneered to the girl beside him:
"If you wanna live, sweetheart, you'd better behave."
The once-majestic audience hall had become a den of depravity.
"Drink up, boys!" Newk roared from the throne. "Eat your fill! Once we're done here, we'll take down the Navy branch next!"
"This is the New World! When did the Navy start thinking they could meddle here?!"
"From today onward, the Newk Pirates rule the Neil Kingdom!"
"I," he bellowed, pounding his chest, "am your new king!"
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
Drunk on his own madness, Newk drained his goblet, then smashed it down on the table in front of the woman beside him.
"Pour me another!" he barked.
As the terrified woman fumbled to refill his drink, Newk's gaze slid down her neckline. His breathing grew heavy, his eyes bloodshot. Just as he seized her wrist to drag her away, a low murmur rippled through the hall.
"...Huh? Why is it suddenly so cold?"
A pirate near the entrance shivered violently. He rose to grab a coat—but froze when a trail of white frost crept silently across the floor.
When they looked up, there were two strangers standing inside the hall.
One was a tall man with a round cap and circular sunglasses, hands in the pockets of his long Marine coat. His breath misted in the air, and the faint sound of crackling ice echoed as the ground beneath his feet glazed over with frost.
Beside him stood a red-haired youth, a handsome boy with a faint crimson mark stretching from his brow to his eye. He held a long blade loosely at his side, his gaze cold and unwavering as he looked up at the throne.
"Who the hell are you?" Newk growled, releasing the woman. His eyes narrowed as he spotted the Marine insignia gleaming on the man's chest and cap.
"Marines...?" he muttered—and then broke into laughter.
"Ha! So the Navy finally shows up, huh? That little brat must've gone crying for help!"
"Well, this saves me the trouble of hunting you down myself!"
He stood, still grinning wildly. "What's this? Only two of you? Where are the rest? Come on—call them all out! I'll wipe you all out at once!"
Kuzan—Aokiji—lifted his head slowly, his tone low and hoarse with barely contained fury.
"You're... unbelievably arrogant."
The two intruders, Kuzan and Yoriichi Tsugikuni, had broken through the earthen fortress that encased the palace. From the moment they stepped inside, Kuzan's Observation Haki had told him everything—the massacre, the cruelty, the stench of blood. The front courtyard was littered with corpses of royal guards.
Yoriichi had walked past every single one without a word, his heart cold as steel. By the time they reached the grand hall, the man on the throne was already as good as dead in his eyes.
Frost spread across the marble floor as Kuzan prepared to move—but before he could act, Yoriichi stepped forward, raising his blade toward the throne.
"Kuzan," he said quietly, "your power's too gentle for men like them."
"Let me handle this."
Newk blinked, then laughed again, loud and cruel.
"You? You think you can take me on, brat?"
"Come on, then! Let's see what you've got! Hahaha!"
"I ate the Mud-Mud Fruit, kid! Bullets, blades, it's all useless on me!"
"Go on—try it, see for yourself—"
The rest of his sentence never came.
A deafening crack split the air—like thunder exploding inside the hall.
In the instant Newk blinked, Yoriichi had vanished from sight. The next moment, he was right in front of him.
A flash of silver light traced through the air.
For a heartbeat, Newk felt nothing. Then, strangely, the world seemed to tilt. His vision rose higher—then dropped sharply downward.
And in that fleeting instant before darkness took him, he saw it.
Yoriichi standing before him, expression calm as still water.
His own body—headless—still sitting upon the throne.
The stunned faces of his crewmates below.
"Is that... my body?"
"Why can I see my body...?"
Terror seized what remained of his consciousness. He tried to speak, but no sound came. His vision blurred, his awareness fading fast.
No... I can't be dying... not to a brat like this...!
And then—nothing.
Newk, the pirate worth two hundred million berries, was dead before his head even hit the floor.
"Thunder Breathing – First Form: Thunderclap and Flash!"
Merging the Navy's Soru technique with Armament Haki, Yoriichi's speed reached its limit. Newk's Logia powers never even had time to activate before his head was cleaved from his shoulders.
With a soft flick, Yoriichi sent the blood from his blade scattering through the air, then slowly sheathed his sword.
Thud!
Newk's headless body collapsed at Yoriichi's feet. The youth glanced down at the corpse, murmuring under his breath,
"Old habits die hard… perhaps that was a bit excessive."
He had spent too long cutting down demons—his strikes were always swift, decisive, and merciless.
"C-Captain…"
"Captain Newk!!!"
"He's… he's dead!?"
Only now did the pirates realize their captain—the man who wielded a Logia Devil Fruit and mocked the world's might—had been killed with a single strike.
Their drunken joy evaporated. Panic filled their eyes. None dared fight. They scrambled for the door, desperate to escape.
"Ice Time."
Aokiji finally moved.
Frost surged from his feet, freezing the ground in an instant. The escaping pirates froze mid-run, turned to perfect statues of ice—faces twisted in eternal fear.
Crack!
A cold wind blew through the silent hall.
Then—
BOOM!
"Kuzan! Yoriichi!"
"Where are you two?!"
From outside came a thunderous crash, followed by Garp's booming roar. A fierce gust tore through the palace, scattering the frozen statues into glittering shards of ice.
"..."
Aokiji sighed, raising an ice wall to shield himself and the others.
Yoriichi, sword now sheathed, stood quietly at his side.
Hearing Garp's voice, he couldn't help but murmur with a faint, helpless smile,
"That man's temperament… being a Marine really doesn't suit him."
(End of Chapter)