"Perorin… g–ghk…"
Charlotte Perospero's face twitched violently, forcing out a grotesque smile that stretched his lips but never reached his eyes.
"Y–you're not joking… are you, Heavenquake?" His voice trembled despite himself, and his long crimson tongue instinctively retracted halfway back into his mouth.
He couldn't help it.
The answer was so absurdly terrifying that his first instinct was outright denial.
Gern Reginald Sigmar didn't respond immediately.
Instead, he calmly picked up another piece of brittle candy and tossed it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, staring at Perospero with the kind of look one reserved for a child who had just asked whether the sky might fall.
Only after swallowing did he finally speak.
"Since when," he said lazily, "does the Navy need a reason—or a punchline—to arrest pirates?"
"!!!"
The moment the words landed, Perospero's pupils shrank to pinpricks. A bone-deep chill shot from the soles of his feet straight to the crown of his skull.
No hesitation.
"Candy Maiden!"
Almost purely on instinct, his eyes darkened and his Devil Fruit power erupted.
The Paramecia-type Lick-Lick Fruit activated beneath his feet. The hardened sugar pavement instantly liquefied, softening and swelling as if alive. It surged upward in a violent bulge of syrup and crystalline spikes, forming a spiked candy prison meant to entrap and immobilize Gern in one swift motion.
And yet—
It happened in less than a blink.
Faster than Perospero's ability could fully manifest—
A black-and-crimson afterimage tore through the air.
Cold steel pressed against the side of Perospero's neck.
Blood seeped slowly along the blade's edge.
Gern was still seated.
His posture had barely changed.
But the black blade at his waist—Bahuang—had been drawn more than an inch. The tip, gleaming with a deep, frigid sheen, rested with flawless precision against Perospero's throat.
The bandages that had once wrapped the blade were now shredded into gray-white fragments, suspended weightlessly in the air around them before drifting downward in eerie silence.
It was almost beautiful.
Gern tilted his head slightly, studying the man who now stood frozen, his ability forcibly interrupted by overwhelming pressure.
"Tsk, tsk…" he clicked his tongue. "Quick reflexes. Were you planning to treat me to some… decapitation candy?"
His gaze swept over Perospero's pale face and the sweat beading down his temples. Then, slowly—deliberately—he recited the full title.
"The eldest son of one of the Four Emperors, BIG MOM—Charlotte Linlin. Seven-hundred-million-berry bounty. The 'Candy Man.' Charlotte Perospero."
Each word struck like a slap.
Before absolute power, cleverness and Devil Fruit tricks were nothing but paper-thin defenses.
Perospero's heart pounded violently against his ribs. Cold sweat slid down the side of his face.
But he was Charlotte Perospero.
The eldest son of Charlotte Linlin. The self-proclaimed perfectionist. The indispensable strategist of the BIG MOM Pirates.
After the initial wave of shock, his calculating mind roared back to life.
He didn't kill me immediately.
That single realization flared like lightning through his thoughts.
With Gern's speed and strength, if he had truly intended to kill, Perospero's head would already be rolling across the sugar pavement.
The fact that it remained attached meant—
There was room to maneuver.
Gern had not come with pure killing intent.
At the very least, he did not want an all-out war with the BIG MOM Pirates—here, now, on Candy Island.
Understanding that, Perospero swallowed his fear whole. That sticky, trademark grin slowly crawled back onto his face, though it remained stiff at the edges.
He tilted his head ever so slightly, careful not to press further into the blade.
"Perorin~" he chuckled dryly. "As expected of the man who personally struck down Whitebeard and the Golden Lion! That speed… I hadn't even formed the thought to react! Completely outclassed!"
He layered praise thickly, watching Gern's expression for any change.
But the instant he uttered the words "struck down Whitebeard"—
The smile vanished.
Gern's gaze cooled.
His brow furrowed.
The tip of Bahuang pressed forward by half a fraction. A sharp sting flared against Perospero's skin, and he snapped his mouth shut.
"Choose your words carefully," Gern said quietly.
His voice was low, but the seriousness within it was absolute.
"Edward Newgate died in battle. He burned out the last of his strength."
His eyes hardened.
"I did not 'defeat' that man. Not in the way you imply."
It was a verdict spoken not as an enemy—but as acknowledgment of a worthy rival.
A final respect.
Perospero's heart skipped violently.
He had miscalculated.
And he was not stupid enough to argue over the technicalities of Whitebeard's death while a blade kissed his throat.
"Y–yes, yes, my mistake," he corrected immediately, piling on a more "sincere" smile. His tongue flicked nervously across dry lips. "I misspoke, Perorin~"
He shifted smoothly to the true question, voice tightening despite his efforts.
"Then… may I ask directly?"
"Are you here on behalf of the Marines… to formally declare war upon Totto Land? Upon Mama?"
His eyes locked onto Gern's.
His heart hovered at the edge of his throat.
The answer would determine the fate of Totto Land.
It would also determine whether Charlotte Perospero walked away from this table alive.
"Oh?"
Gern listened to the question that seemed forced out between clenched teeth.
Instead of hostility, his expression softened even further—almost absurdly so.
He tilted his head, studying the sweat-soaked Candy Minister with an almost innocent curiosity.
"Why," he asked lightly, "would you assume I came to start a war?"
He leaned back slightly, as though genuinely puzzled.
"Doesn't everyone on the seas know?"
A gentle smile curved his lips.
"I, Gern Reginald Sigmar, am the most mild-mannered and peace-loving man in the entire Navy."
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