Chapter 40: The Frozen Nightmare! A Bicycle on the Sea!
The moment Rem's petite figure landed softly on the deck of the Vermillion Wing, setting the traumatized Kiyo down with the gentleness of a mother handling porcelain, the immediate danger seemed to pass.
However, the atmosphere on the ship did not relax. In fact, the tension spiked to a suffocating degree.
Nami, whose senses were attuned to the whims of the weather and the sea, felt a shiver crawl up her spine that had nothing to do with the wind. Her Navigator's intuition—the sixth sense that had saved her life countless times—was screaming a single word in her mind: Predator.
She rushed to the helm, her hands gripping the polished wood of the wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned bone-white. Her eyes darted frantically between the apocalyptic battle unfolding on the Celestial Dragon's ship and the vast, open sea surrounding them.
"Everyone! Get inside the cabins! Now!"
Nami's voice cracked with desperation. She turned to the cluster of rescued civilians huddled near the railing.
"Don't just stand there staring! It's not safe out here! Move!"
The rescued people—a tragic mosaic of fishermen, farmers, young daughters, and weeping mothers—were paralyzed. They looked at the figure of Kizaru on the adjacent ship, a man made of blinding light, and then at the Marines swimming in the water.
Abject terror washed over them.
Instead of the joy of liberation, their faces were masks of despair. To them, the white coat of a Marine Officer didn't represent justice or safety. It represented the iron boot of the World Government that had crushed their lives.
"We... we're going to die," a middle-aged woman sobbed, clutching her teenage daughter so hard she left bruises on the girl's arms. "That's an Admiral... The stories say they can burn islands to ash. We can't escape... there's nowhere to run."
"Why did you save us?" an old man wailed, dropping to his knees. "Just to let us die at the hands of the Navy? It would have been better to die as slaves than to have false hope!"
The air was thick with the stench of fear and hopelessness.
Just then, a young girl—no older than twelve—standing at the very edge of the shivering crowd, suddenly pointed a trembling finger toward the sea behind the ship.
"Look..." she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.
Then, louder, gasping for air:
"Look over there! On the s-sea!"
Her scream cut through the panic.
"There's a person... someone's... someone's cycling over!"
This statement was so utterly absurd, so completely divorced from reality, that it immediately broke the spell of terror. Heads turned. Eyes widened. Even Nami, focused on the helm, whipped her head around to look at the horizon.
What they saw defied all laws of physics and logic.
On the shimmering, sun-drenched horizon of the Grand Line, a single, tall figure was approaching.
He wasn't on a ship. He wasn't on a boat. He wasn't even swimming.
He was riding a bicycle. A simple, white ladies' bicycle with a basket on the front.
The man pedaling it was incredibly tall and lanky. He wore a crisp white suit with a blue shirt underneath, and a purple sleeping mask was pushed up onto his forehead, holding back a mop of unruly black curls.
He pedaled steadily, unhurriedly, his long legs moving in a lazy rhythm.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
The sound carried over the water.
Where his wheels touched the liquid surface of the ocean, the water didn't splash. It didn't ripple. It froze.
A narrow, perfect path of ice crystals quietly formed beneath his tires, creating a bridge of frost that extended all the way back to the horizon. The ice glinted with a cold, beautiful, and terrifying light under the sun.
"Is he... is he biking on the ocean?" Nami whispered, her jaw dropping. She rubbed her eyes, thinking it was a hallucination caused by stress. "That's impossible. The salt content... the waves... physics doesn't work like that!"
The tall figure continued his leisurely Sunday ride straight into the heart of a war zone. He approached the Vermillion Wing and the wreckage of the Saint Noros as if he were merely passing by a park.
When he was just fifty meters away from the Vermillion Wing, he sharply turned his handlebars. The bicycle drifted sideways across the water, spraying a shower of ice shards into the air that sparkled like diamonds.
With a smooth motion, he came to a stop.
He rested one foot on the water—no, on the solid block of ice that formed instantly beneath his leather shoe.
He yawned, a long, drawn-out sound of boredom, and scratched the back of his head.
"Arara..."
The man's voice was deep and lazy, echoing across the silent water.
"I seem to have arrived a bit late. Borsalino is already making a mess."
As he spoke, a visible, pale white mist began to emanate from his body. The air temperature dropped precipitously.
Twenty degrees. Zero degrees. Twenty below zero.
The tropical heat of the Grand Line vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by the biting chill of the Antarctic winter.
"Crack!"
The sound was sharp, like a gunshot.
The sea beneath his feet instantly solidified. The deep blue water turned into thick, opaque white ice.
Centered on him, this freezing effect spread rapidly outward like a plague.
CRACK-CRACK-CRACK-RUMBLE!
White ice traces crawled wildly across the sea surface as if they were living serpents. The waves were frozen mid-motion, turning into jagged sculptures of glass. The spray of the ocean was caught in time, suspended as ice pellets.
In the blink of an eye, the restless ocean was transformed into a vast, silent, and deadly continent of ice.
What was even more despairing was the sound that came from beneath the Vermillion Wing.
CREAAAK... GROAN.
The ship shuddered violently. The biting cold clung to the wooden hull. With a teeth-grinding freezing sound, the water surrounding the keel solidified. The bottom of the Vermillion Wing was firmly locked within this suddenly appearing glacier.
The ship jolted to a halt, trapped like a fly in amber.
"The ship... the ship can't move!" Nami screamed, grabbing the wheel to stabilize herself as the deck lurched. "The rudder is stuck! We're frozen in!"
"It's over... we're trapped..."
"He froze the ocean! He froze the entire ocean!"
Panic erupted on the deck with renewed intensity. The mood of those who had just escaped danger plummeted from the peak of hope back into the deepest abyss of despair.
This was a power beyond human comprehension. This wasn't fighting; this was a force of nature.
"Another Admiral?"
Rem, standing near the railing, narrowed her single visible blue eye. Her demon instincts were screaming at her. The danger level of this man was equal to, if not greater than, the man of light battling Albedo.
She watched the man dismount his bicycle and kick the kickstand down onto the ice. He dusted off his suit, looking utterly bored.
"Admiral Aokiji (Kuzan)," Rem whispered the name Suzaku had warned them about. "The man who can freeze time itself."
Discovering that only one enemy was attacking their flank, a cold resolve settled in Rem's heart.
Suzaku's mission for her was absolute: Protect the people on the ship.
Blocking this enemy was her duty. Even if it meant death.
"Miss Rem..."
Kiyo stood beside her, her beautiful face stained with tears. She trembled, the cold biting into her thin clothes.
"Please... please be careful! That man... he is a monster!"
Rem turned to her, offering a small, reassuring smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Do not worry, Kiyo-san. Rem will not let the cold touch you."
With that, Rem leaped over the ship's rail.
Thud.
She landed lightly on the cold ice field, her boots crunching on the frozen surface. Her breath plumed in the air as white mist.
Thump.
She heard another, less graceful landing behind her.
Rem turned back in surprise.
Nami had jumped down. The Navigator had landed awkwardly, slipping slightly on the ice before regaining her balance. Her face was pale, devoid of blood, and her legs were visibly shaking like leaves in a storm. But she clutched her three-section staff—the Clima-Tact—with a death grip.
"Lady Nami!" Rem exclaimed, her voice tinged with genuine shock. "What are you doing?! It is very dangerous here! This is an Admiral! Rem can protect everyone—you do not need to come down yourself!"
"Shut up, Rem!"
Nami took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to force oxygen into her panicked lungs. She stood up straight, trying to make her voice sound calm and collected, even attempting to force a stylish, confident smile.
"What kind of Navigator hides on the ship while her crewmates fight?"
She stepped forward to stand beside Rem, though she stayed a half-step behind.
"I am the indispensable Navigator of the Suzaku Pirates! How can I face Suzaku... how can I face my dream... if I run away now?"
She pointed her trembling staff at the tall man in the distance.
"Besides... there's only one opponent. It's two against one! Don't worry, the advantage is ours! We can take him!"
Watching Nami try to act brave despite her obvious, overwhelming terror, Rem blinked her clear, large eyes. A warmth spread through her chest.
"Lady Nami's words are very inspiring," Rem said seriously, nodding her head. "Rem is very encouraged by your bravery."
Rem paused, looking down.
"However... if your legs weren't shaking so much when you spoke, it would be even more convincing."
"I said shut up!" Nami hissed, her face flushing red with embarrassment. "Just let me be cool for once! I'm trying not to pee myself here!"
As the two conversed, they accelerated, running across the ice toward the uninvited guest.
Aokiji watched them come. He didn't take his hands out of his pockets. He didn't assume a fighting stance. He simply watched, his breath fogging the air.
"Two little girls?" he muttered. "The pirates these days are getting younger."
Rem made the first move.
She didn't hold back. She knew that against an Admiral, a probing attack was useless.
"HAAAH!"
Her wrist flicked mid-stride. The heavy iron chain of her meteor hammer uncoiled with a metallic shriek. The spiked iron ball, larger than a basketball, shot out like a venomous snake striking its prey.
It whistled through the air, carrying enough momentum to shatter a boulder, aimed straight for the man's forehead!
"Hmph!"
However, facing this fierce attack, the tall man didn't even twitch an eyebrow. He lazily watched the weapon approach, as if watching a leaf fall from a tree.
Only when the hammerhead was mere inches from his forehead did he move.
He casually raised his left arm.
CLANG!
A crisp, metallic sound echoed across the ice field.
The hammerhead—strong enough to bend steel and crush bone—stopped dead.
It had been firmly blocked by Aokiji's single arm. His skin had turned a shiny, obsidian black—Armament Haki. The weapon trembled, unable to advance even a millimeter against his defense.
Rem's eyes widened. She pulled on the chain, but it wouldn't budge. It felt like it was stuck in a mountain.
"Arara..."
The man sighed lazily, a hint of genuine helplessness in his tone. He looked at Rem, then at the trembling Nami behind her.
"No matter what, I am a Marine Admiral," Aokiji drawled, scratching his cheek with his free hand. "I represent the highest power of the World Government."
He tilted his head.
"Isn't it a bit too disrespectful to send just two young girls to deal with me? Where is your Captain?"
Rem's heart tightened in her chest. The opponent had effortlessly neutralized her full-power strike with one arm, without even using his Devil Fruit ability. This level of physical strength and Haki was incomparable to any enemy she had encountered before. Arlong? Krieg? They were insects compared to this giant.
"Nami, fall back! Get back on the ship!" Rem shouted sharply, her voice losing its usual calm.
She released the chain and flashed forward, blue mana gathering around her body.
"This level of opponent is not something you can handle! Run!"
Meanwhile, in the Freezing Water.
Vice Admiral Ferguson was not having a good day.
He had been blasted off the deck of the Saint Noros by Rem earlier. He had fallen fifty meters into the sea, breaking two ribs upon impact.
Now, he was treading water near the wreckage, shivering uncontrollably. The water was cold, but the fear in his heart was colder.
He watched the Saint Noros crumbling under the might of Kizaru and Albedo. He saw the flashes of light and darkness. He knew perfectly well that returning to that battlefield was suicide. Even a Vice Admiral was just collateral damage in a fight between monsters.
"Those... those demons..." Ferguson stuttered, spitting out saltwater mixed with blood.
Before falling into the water, he had heard Momonga's desperate call for reinforcements. He knew help was coming. He just had to survive until then.
Ferguson decisively swam toward the only intact Marine battleship nearby—the one that had stayed back. He climbed the rope ladder, soaking wet, his uniform heavy and dragging him down.
He collapsed onto the deck, coughing up water.
"Vice Admiral!" A young ensign rushed over. "Are you alright?!"
"Hold steady!" Ferguson barked, pushing the ensign away and struggling to his feet. "Everyone to your stations! Maintain vigilance and await Headquarters' support! Do not engage the enemy directly!"
His voice was calm, masking his internal terror. The most important thing now was not to act rashly, but to preserve the remaining forces.
Just then, he felt it.
The air turned frigid. His wet uniform began to freeze, stiffening against his skin.
He looked out at the sea.
"What the..."
The ocean around the pirate ship turned white. A massive ice field expanded rapidly, locking everything in place. The waves stopped moving.
Ferguson's eyes widened. He recognized that ice. He had seen it once before, during a training exercise at Marineford.
"This... this is..."
Ferguson gasped, a surge of adrenaline hitting him so hard it banished the cold.
"Ice Age?!"
He grabbed the railing, staring at the tall figure standing on the ice in the distance.
"Not just Admiral Kizaru... has Admiral Kuzan also arrived?!"
After the shock came a surge of overwhelming confidence. Relief washed over him like a warm bath.
Two of the Marine's strongest forces arriving on the battlefield simultaneously? This was a lineup reserved for fighting the Emperors of the New World!
"Excellent! Hahaha! Excellent!"
Ferguson laughed maniacally, his fear transforming into vindictive glee.
"With two Admirals here, no matter what methods these madmen possess, they won't be able to escape! They are trapped like rats in a cage!"
Ferguson's clenched fists trembled with excitement. In his understanding, one Marine Admiral was enough to quell most sea crises. But two? It was overkill. It was divine judgment.
"It's over for them," Ferguson grinned savagely, drawing his saber and pointing it at the frozen sea.
"All units! Disembark onto the ice! Surround the pirate ship! Support Admiral Kuzan! Don't let a single rat escape! I want their heads!"
Hundreds of Marines cheered, their morale restored by the presence of the strongest powerhouse. They poured onto the ice, weapons drawn, marching toward the Vermillion Wing to seal the pirates' doom.
Little did they know, they were marching toward a massacre.
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