Cannon fire rumbled across the sea as the surviving pirate crews went mad with desperation, their barrage raining down on Simon's ship. The promise of three hundred million Berries made even the most cowardly pirates reckless.
They had thought their own modified ships would win them glory. None had expected Simon's crew to turn a Navy warship into a pirate vessel, a monstrosity with both the durability of iron and the speed of a racing ship.
Warships were usually slow, weighed down by armor and steel. But Simon had taken that same power and welded it onto a wooden frame, creating something unstable, terrifying… and fast enough to leave the rest behind.
"Hold steady! She just has to last till the finish line!" Simon bellowed, gripping the rail as the hull shuddered violently under the engine's strain.
"Cannon fire, incoming!"
Simon drew the saber from his waist and leapt into the air. The night sky flashed as his blade cleaved through an incoming cannonball, splitting it in two before it exploded midair.
BOOM!
The crowd watching on the big screens erupted in awe.
Simon had planned this all along. He'd waited until nightfall, when visibility was low, when most of the competitors were exhausted and out of ammunition. In daylight, the others would've turned their guns on him the moment they saw his modified warship. But in the dark, they could barely aim, and Simon's ship tore through the waves unhindered.
"Zehahaha, clever bastard," Teach muttered, eyes gleaming with amusement.
"Victory's mine!" Simon roared from the deck, laughter booming over the chaos. "Three hundred million Berries! We're rich!"
Most of the pursuing ships were already silent. They had no cannonballs left, no hope of catching up. The Simon Pirates' speed was like a blur across the sea.
The island of Kakarra, the race's starting and finishing point, came into view. The crowd onshore cheered wildly.
"It's over! Simon's crew wins again!"
"Anyone can see that, idiot," another pirate scoffed.
But inside the Simon Pirates' hull… something was wrong.
A faint hiss—then crackling heat.
A small hole had appeared near the stern, glowing orange.
And from it, a young man's voice chuckled softly. "Heh… guess it's time for me to take the stage."
He extended his hand, muttering, "Steel Fist: Molten Steel."
His skin shimmered into black-silver metal, glowing red-hot. Steam hissed from his arm as the hull began to melt, wooden planks sizzling into liquid fire.
"Hey! What's happening to their hull?!" a spectator shouted, eyes widening as the image zoomed in.
Baccarat, who had been half-asleep, perked up instantly. Teach's earlier words echoed in her mind, There's still one more competitor hiding among them.
Sure enough, through the smoke and heat, a figure emerged.
"Wallace…" a pirate gasped. "That's Iron Wallace!"
"Wallace the Steel! A lone pirate, bounty twenty-eight million! I've heard of him!"
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. The hidden participant had revealed himself, melting his way out of the Simon Pirates' hull and leaping into a small motorboat tethered alongside.
Wallace looked up at the furious Simon and grinned. "Thanks for the ride, Simon! I'll take that 300 million now. I'll even toss you a tip later!"
He waved mockingly and sped away.
Simon's face twisted in rage. "You little bastard!"
"Captain, that's Iron Wallace! A Devil Fruit user!" one of his men shouted.
Simon sneered. "Then he can drown with that steel body of his! Full speed! Run him down!"
But another pirate paled. "Captain… the hull's been breached! The engine room's flooded! We've lost propulsion!"
"What?!" Simon's veins bulged. His precious ship trembled and slowed, dead in the water.
"Then shoot him! Kill that rat before he gets away!"
Pistols cracked. Bullets whizzed across the waves, striking Wallace—only to bounce off with metallic clinks.
"He's invulnerable, Captain! Bullets can't pierce him!"
"Then use the cannons!" Simon roared. "Launch the boats! We'll chase him down!"
On the viewing deck, Teach chuckled lowly. "Steel-Steel Fruit, eh? Kid's got potential."
Baccarat smirked. "Interested in recruiting him?"
"Maybe," Teach said, grinning. "If he survives the vultures waiting for him ashore."
Wallace, paddling his little boat, muttered under his breath, "I knew it wouldn't be easy… should've smashed their lifeboats too."
But his grin returned as he opened a hatch at the stern. "Still, thanks for the idea, Simon."
Inside was a small hydraulic turbine—a crude copy of Simon's own engine. Wallace grabbed a handle and pumped it hard.
The turbine screamed to life, sending a jet of water bursting behind the boat. His speed surged, widening the gap instantly.
"See you at the finish line, Simon!" Wallace called, laughing as his boat cut through the sea like an arrow.
Behind him, Simon's small boats floundered in the churning wake.
From the shore, the crowd went wild.
"He's doing it! Wallace is overtaking everyone!"
"What an upset! The lone pirate wins it all!"
The announcer's voice echoed through the loudspeakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, the champion of this Death Sea Race....Wallace the Steel! A brilliant display of wit and courage! He takes home our sponsor Hannabal's prize of three hundred million Berries!"
The spectators roared.
But beneath the cheers, the atmosphere shifted.
Teach's smile thinned. "Heh. Those pirates ain't cheering for long. They're sizing him up."
Baccarat nodded slowly. "A lone kid with three hundred million on him? He won't make it off that island alive."
Teach stood, brushing crumbs from his coat. "Let's go. Time to watch the real show."
Wallace, clutching a heavy bag of Berries, moved quickly through the backstreets of Kakarra. He wasn't stupid, he knew hundreds of greedy eyes were already tracking him.
He could feel their killing intent like a fog.
"This island's too small to hide," he muttered, his steel fist clenching. "Only one place they can't touch me…"
His gaze shifted toward a massive coliseum in the distance, Hannabal Arena.
In that place, combat was allowed only inside the dueling pit. Outside it, even pirates followed the rules or risked losing their heads.
If he could make it there, he'd be safe. Maybe even buy himself some time to spend the prize.
"Almost there," Wallace whispered, stepping into the neon glow of Hannabal's gate.
But in the alleys behind him, dark figures were already closing in.
The real Death Race was only beginning.