"One person each side. You two handle it. Kill them all."
If Teach wished, a single burst of his Conqueror's Haki could have dropped the entire fortress in seconds. But he wanted to see Gar's true strength and give both Gar and Peto a chance to hone themselves.
The two understood immediately. This was a test. Teach wouldn't interfere. They had to clear their sectors fast or be judged wanting.
All around the estate, Den Den Mushi kept silent watch. In the first basement, a monitoring room filled with flickering images covered most of the grounds, save for a few blind spots.
Peto moved first. Her form flickered like a shadow, darting through those blind spots in utter silence. Her claws, sharp as blades, flashed once—and another guard slumped, eyes wide, dead before he could cry out. She killed so swiftly the Den Den Mushi barely captured her outline before it vanished.
On the opposite side, Gar was far more brutal. Where Peto glided like a phantom, Gar erupted like a storm. His twin blades—replacements for the weapons traffickers had stolen from him—gleamed as he descended from the darkness. His green eye locked on prey, his body hidden until the very last instant.
A guard stiffened, sensing movement. Too late.
Gar's blades crossed, ripping through flesh and bone. Blood sprayed across his white fur. The man's head sailed upward, eyes still unaware of death.
Gal growled low, excitement flickering in his lone eye, then charged for his next kill. The Den Den Mushi caught his rampage this time, but the men in the castle hadn't noticed... yet.
Meanwhile, in the monitoring room, Teach had already arrived. Two corpses slumped on the floor, each with a neat hole through the skull where his finger had pierced them.
Teach didn't need screens, his Observation Haki covered everything. Still, he watched their images with faint amusement.
Within minutes, half the outer guards were dead.
"Has it begun?" Teach chuckled to himself.
Now, those inside the castle began to sense something was wrong. The air reeked of iron and blood, Gar's handiwork and seasoned killers noticed first.
"Smell that?" a bounty hunter muttered, glancing at an assassin beside him.
"Yeah. Too much blood." The assassin moved to the window, peering outside. His pupils shrank. Corpses sprawled in the torchlight, crimson pools staining the dirt.
"Looks like we're not the only ones hunting tonight." The bounty hunter joined him, smirking.
The mercenaries nearby stiffened. But these two—Franco, who once brought down a pirate worth sixty million, and Paulson, an assassin who had escaped alive after failing to kill a hundred-million pirate—were unruffled.
Compared to them, the rest were fodder. And they knew it.
House had paid dearly for their services, over 150 million belly, half of it split between the two. Their treatment was lavish, unlike the others', fine food, sofas, wine. The others stood watch, silent and tense. If a true threat came, it would be Franco and Paulson who fought.
But tonight, the threat was already inside.
House stormed out in his pajamas, cursing, his good mood ruined. "Who dares target me?! Which bastard—Fowler? No, he's not that stupid. Langer? He's got his own Celestial Dragon backing him…"
He rattled through names, none convincing him. His fury rose. He had worked too long to secure the Dragons' favor. Who would sabotage him now?
He did not yet know his most precious treasure was already gone.
In his chamber, Teach stood over the steel safe. Inside lay three to four hundred million in treasure and three Devil Fruits. His Observation Haki had mapped them all.
A woman, waiting for House, gasped at his sudden appearance. She opened her mouth to scream.
There was no "then." Teach frowned, flicked a finger, and a hole blossomed in her forehead.
He turned to the safe. Life Return twisted his arm into a grotesque claw of bone and muscle. The Devil's Claw tore into the steel, widening the gap with a shriek of bending metal. Moments later, the box split open.
Golden light spilled across the room. Jewels, stacks of beli, three ornate boxes containing Fruits. Two were exquisitely crafted, gifts for Celestial Dragons must look perfect. One was plain, the Zoan-type Wolf-Wolf Fruit, Grey Wolf Form. A strong carnivorous Zoan, though still inferior to the Giant Lizard or Silverback Gorilla.
Teach scooped up all three, stowed them inside his coat, and wrapped the treasure in a curtain. Not a coin left behind. Tonight, this empire would be ash. Why leave scraps for carrion?
Downstairs, silence spread. Franco and Paulson tensed now, no longer smug. The blood-scent thickened, the kill count rose, and the monitoring room was silent.
"Where are the idiots in the basement?" House bellowed.
A guard stumbled back, pale. "Dead, Lord House. Everyone in the monitoring room is dead!"
"What?!" Panic rippled. The monitoring room was deep inside. Whoever had reached it was already among them.
Franco puffed smoke, exhaling slow. "Guess this payday won't be so easy." His hand slid to his pistol.
Paulson crouched, ear to the ground. "They're already coming."
Heavy footsteps echoed. The hall fell still.
The nearest guard turned, nerves fraying—
And a white-furred arm shot out of the dark. A short blade pierced his skull.
The hall erupted.
From the shadows came Gal, drenched in blood, white fur gleaming under the lamps. His lone eye burned with feral light, his presence like a beast uncaged.
House paled. He hid behind Franco and Paulson, stammering, "Wait—wait! Who sent you? Fowler? Langer? Tell me! I'll pay you double, triple what they offered!"
Gar sneered. He had hunted liars before. This man's words were hollow, his eyes venomous.
On the second floor, Peto flashed through corridors, leaving corpses in her wake, claws dripping but her coat immaculate. Every kill was clean, instant.
At the stairwell, Teach descended with his bulging sack of treasure, smiling. Peto met him halfway.
"Come on," Teach said lightly. "Let's watch the fun."
Downstairs, the massacre was in full swing. Gal tore through guards and mercenaries alike, unstoppable. Blood slicked the tiles.
House trembled. His fortress—his empire—was collapsing in a single night.
Even the hired killers faltered. "Sorry, House," one bounty hunter muttered, backing away. "I quit. That thing isn't something I can fight."
"You coward! I paid you!" House screamed.
The man sneered. "Then take your money back. If you live long enough to spend it."
And with that, the hall drowned in blood and fear.