The Devil Fruit Encyclopedia—rare, yes, but to the Fleet Admiral it was just another book.
"Here," Kong said, tossing over a thick, two-finger-wide tome filled with color sketches. "One copy. Not complete—covers about three hundred Fruits."
"Appreciate it! You're a real saint."
Dimon caught it with a grin. Finally, no more guessing games about what fruit was what.
Three hundred entries? Good enough.
He handed over the Eternal Life Wine, which Sengoku accepted carefully before pushing the three Devil Fruits across the table.
"Trade complete. You can leave now," Sengoku said flatly.
Understandable—an outlaw sitting in the Fleet Admiral's office wasn't the best look.
But Dimon just chuckled. "Kicked out already? Cold-hearted, aren't we?"
He flipped through the encyclopedia lazily. With a snap of his fingers, a tiny magic circle flickered on the desk—both the book and the Fruits vanished in a wisp of smoke.
Sengoku stiffened. "What did you just do?"
Dimon smiled. "Relax. Just guessing…"
He tossed his apple core into the bin and said casually:
"Those three Fruits—World Government property, right?"
Kong's tone was dry. "And what if they are?"
"As a responsible brewer, I provide after-sales service." Dimon's grin sharpened.
"How about this—you fight me right here. Then when the Government asks, you can tell them the great pirate Dimon robbed Marineford itself!"
Sengoku's jaw twitched. After-sales service?
A decent cover story… if they ignored the humiliation. Being "robbed" inside Marine Headquarters? The tabloids would explode.
"No thanks," Sengoku began, shaking his head.
But Kong's fist clenched, Armament Haki surging like thunder.
"Actually," he said, eyes blazing, "that's a great idea."
He launched forward with the speed of a cannon shot.
The desk shattered as his blackened fist tore through the air—fast, precise, lethal.
Kong wasn't just a bureaucrat; he was Admiral-class, pure muscle and fury.
Dimon barely had time to blink. "Whoa—no rehearsal? You're not faking this, are you?"
He met the punch head-on.
BOOM!
The collision cracked the heavens. Lightning and shockwaves tore through the tower.
Below, Marines froze mid-step as the entire fortress shook.
Then—a streak of black shot skyward. Dimon spread his obsidian wings, hovering in the sun.
"You're not escaping, Dimon!"
Kong rocketed after him, Haki flaring.
Below, Sengoku exhaled once, then transformed—his body swelling into a giant golden Buddha. "Might as well make it convincing. Let's see what he's got."
"Impact Wave!"
Twin forces slammed toward Dimon. He crossed both swords—two jet-black blades singing under his grip—and met the onslaught.
The first strike clashed. The second hit like divine judgment.
The blast cratered the entire courtyard—stone split, earth groaned, dust swallowed the world.
"Is that—!?"
"It's the Fleet Admiral and Sengoku!"
"Why is Dimon here? A pirate attacking HQ!?"
Panic rippled through the ranks. At the inner harbor, Vice Admiral Tsuru turned mid-step, face paling.
Beside her stood a young female officer, barely eighteen, long white legs marked by a spider tattoo.
"Wh–Why would a pirate come here?" she murmured.
"Gion, with me!" Tsuru barked, abandoning her task and sprinting toward the rising plumes of smoke.
The Battle Erupts
The square before Marine HQ's main tower cracked apart as Dimon straightened, unbothered.
Across from him landed two titans—the Fleet Admiral and the Buddha himself.
"Impressive," Dimon said, smiling. "Not bad for old men."
He didn't have long to admire them. Boom. Boom. Boom.
Three giant Vice Admirals crashed down beside Sengoku, followed by more—ten, maybe fifteen, leaping in via Moonwalk.
Dimon's Observation Haki twitched—someone behind him.
"Cleanse Shock!"
Tsuru's palm glowed as she struck from behind.
He sidestepped smoothly, caught her wrist mid-swing, and raised a brow. "The Wash-Wash Fruit?"
Up close, she was around forty, stern and graceful—he almost respected her nerve.
But before he could finish the thought, another flash of steel—Gion, drawing her blade.
"Release Vice Admiral Tsuru!"
Her sword, Konpira, flashed like lightning, cutting straight for Dimon's wrist.
He met it with a single finger—and stopped it cold.
Her pupils shrank. "Impossible—!"
"Nothing's impossible, kid. The world's bigger than your orders."
He flicked Tsuru away with a wrist motion, then pivoted—one merciless kick landed squarely in Gion's abdomen.
The young officer flew backward, slamming into the tiles, her blade spinning free.
Dimon caught it midair. "Nice sword," he said approvingly.
He turned, surrounded now—rows of rifles raised, safeties off, the courtyard bristling with death.
"Well," he sighed, "let's clear the field first."
Black-red lightning erupted from him.
The noon sun dimmed; clouds rolled in like bruises.
BOOM.
Conqueror's Haki exploded outward.
Marines dropped like wheat under a scythe—one by one, unconscious before they hit the ground.
"Below colonel rank—stay back!" Kong roared. "You can't withstand that willpower!"
When the dust settled, the plaza was eerily still—just the heavyweights remained.
Dimon twirled Gion's sword once and smirked.
"Come on then. Bring it all. One man—against Marineford."
He vanished in a flash step, blades crossing with thunderous momentum.
"Two-Sword Style — Momoyama Shirataki!"
Twin arcs of light slashed the sky, Haki crackling along their edges—
Each stroke strong enough to level a mountain.
And that was just the opening move.
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