Kuzan looked at that arm, which was as good as new, and his hand froze in mid-air as he was scratching his head.
He had seen Devil Fruit users with regenerative abilities.
The recovery power of an awakened Zoan-type was also amazing, but this clearly had nothing to do with medical treatment.
Has the outside world already developed this quickly?
Kuzan had a face full of question marks.
"Don't look at me like some country bumpkin."
Abel moved his newly grown shoulder, his bronze muscles glinting coldly in the sunlight.
He casually pulled another pitch-black greatsword from the void; the blade was wider than the previous one and flowed with ominous dark-red patterns.
"Among the Foundation's containment objects, this level of self-healing doesn't even make it into the top hundred."
Abel held the sword with one hand, the tip pointing directly at Kuzan's brow.
"As for you, native."
"That energy reaction in your body that can change the weather is barely worth a glance."
"Though crude, its destructive power is acceptable."
Kuzan did not feel happy because of this seemingly complimentary remark.
Native?
This word made him very uncomfortable.
As the highest combat power of Marineford, a man standing at the top of this sea, he was actually being called a native?
"Arara... it seems there's quite a generation gap between us."
Kuzan sighed, but the cold air around him grew even thicker.
The surrounding ground began to frost, and white ice crystals climbed frantically up the walls.
"Although I don't know what kind of organization this Foundation you speak of is, causing trouble in Marineford and injuring a Vice Admiral..."
"No matter who you are, you won't be leaving today."
As soon as Kuzan finished speaking, the chill in the air grew even more intense.
The surrounding ruins were covered in icicles, reflecting the piercing sunlight.
Abel did not move.
He just used those ashen eyes to look up and down at the man known as a Marine Admiral.
No fear.
No tension.
Only a playful mockery, as if watching a monkey show.
"Can't leave?"
Abel let out a low laugh, his chest vibrating as if he had heard a funny joke.
He casually stabbed the broad black greatsword into the ground in front of him.
Boom!
The ground cracked, and stones flew everywhere.
The heavy blade sank deep into the earth, emitting a heart-palpitating pressure.
"Native, you seem to know nothing about power."
Abel let go of the hilt and folded his arms across his chest, completely ignoring the ring of dark gun barrels around him.
"If I wanted to kill, this place would already be a dead zone."
He raised his right hand, which had just finished regenerating, and pointed at Onigumo, who lay in the ruins, his life or death unknown.
"That bug is still breathing because I didn't want to get my hands dirty."
Arrogant.
Extremely arrogant.
The Marine soldiers' hands were trembling as they held their guns, not just because of the cold, but because of the indifference this man radiated, as if human lives were nothing but grass.
Kuzan narrowed his eyes slightly.
"I don't know where you get your confidence from."
Kuzan took his hand out of his pocket, with white freezing air swirling around his fingertips.
"But if you act wild in Marineford, you'll have to pay a price."
"Put away your hostility, native. I didn't come here for slaughter."
Kuzan tilted his head, his gaze passing over Abel's broad shoulders to the street behind him that had almost been reduced to ruins.
Debris was everywhere, and dust billowed.
And there was Vice Admiral Onigumo, embedded in the wall, his life or death unknown.
"Not for slaughter?"
Kuzan scratched the back of his head, his exhaled breath condensing into frost in the air.
"Young man, that joke is a bit cold."
Abel ignored the other's teasing.
He waved his hand casually.
The black greatsword, emitting a terrifying aura, turned into countless black particles and dissipated into the air.
This move made the tense Marine soldiers relax slightly.
But Kuzan did not relax.
Because the dangerous aura on the man did not diminish in the slightest with the disappearance of the weapon.
"SCP Foundation, Mobile Task Force Omega-7, code name Abel."
Abel announced this string of titles unheard of in this world.
Every word carried an ancient and proud rhythm.
"I came here to hunt down a traitor of the Foundation."
Kuzan raised an eyebrow.
Though he didn't understand those strange terms, he keenly grasped the key points.
"SCP Foundation? Traitor?"
"A joker wearing a red spandex suit."
When Abel mentioned this name, the surrounding temperature seemed to drop a few more degrees; it was pure killing intent.
"He stole a secret item from the Foundation, a forbidden object capable of reshaping genetic sequences."
Mordred gave himself a thumbs-up for his acting in his heart.
Shifting the blame for the Blacklight Virus to Deadpool and then fabricating a high-end mysterious organization to back it up.
This move was simply perfect.
[Ding! Congratulations to the host for obtaining +133 Astonishment Points from Aokiji!]
[Ding! Congratulations to the host for obtaining +140 Astonishment Points from the high-ranking officers of Marineford!]
The system notification in his mind sounded like pleasant wind chimes. Mordred suppressed the urge to laugh out loud and controlled Abel's facial muscles to maintain that corpse-like stiffness and indifference.
The freezing air at Kuzan's fingertips did not dissipate; instead, it condensed into a crystal-clear ice blade, reflecting a bone-chilling light in the sun.
"A forbidden object capable of reshaping genetic sequences?"
Kuzan repeated the tongue-twisting phrase, his gaze locked onto Abel, trying to find even a trace of a lie on this strange man's face.
Abel did not answer immediately.
He took a step, his heavy combat boots crushing the ice on the ground with a tooth-grinding crunch.
Every step felt like it was stepping on the hearts of all the Marines present.
"A low-level civilization like yours naturally cannot understand."
Abel stopped five meters away from Kuzan, looking down at the Marine Admiral.
That arrogance born from his very bones was not posturing, but a cold indifference, as if looking at ants.
"While you are still frazzled over pirate fights that are like playing house, the Foundation is already containing terrifying existences that could instantly evaporate this planet."
Kuzan frowned deeply.
Evaporate a planet?
If someone else had said this, he would have already thrown an Ice Age at them.
You sure are full of yourself.
"The Foundation..."
Kuzan chewed on this unfamiliar word, trying to search his memory for relevant information.
He found nothing.
Neither the World Government's intelligence network nor Marineford's secret files had a single word about this organization.
This was what made him feel most uneasy.
An organization with such powerful combat strength that it could even casually talk about the "survival of the planet" had managed to hide so perfectly on the sea?
"What is this Foundation you're talking about?"
Abel did not directly answer Kuzan's question but instead raised his head, his gaze passing through the towering buildings of Marineford toward the blue sky.
"For you babies living in a cradle, it is indeed hard to understand."
Abel's voice was low and slow, every word sounding as if it were squeezed from deep within his throat.
"The coordinate number of your planet in the universe is C-137-β."
He raised his hand, tracing an arc in the air with his finger.
"The Foundation's observation stations are spread across three thousand dimensions, monitoring over one hundred thousand civilizations."
Kuzan's pupils contracted slightly.
Three thousand dimensions?
One hundred thousand civilizations?
These words were like a fantasy to a native resident of the pirate world.
But Abel spoke so calmly, with such a matter-of-fact tone, that one couldn't help but believe him.
"The Foundation's mission is to Secure, Contain, Protect."
Abel continued, his bronze face showing no emotional fluctuation.
"Those anomalous existences capable of destroying civilizations, those forbidden objects capable of warping reality, are all imprisoned by us in special containment facilities."
He paused, his ashen eyes sweeping over the trembling Marine soldiers.
"And your planet was originally not within the Foundation's monitoring range."
"Because your civilization is too weak."