Next Bonus, 100!!
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The terrifying power of the Golden Soul Flames had broken the God's Knights' resolve, forcing them into a hasty retreat.
The remaining "demons" were little more than cannon fodder. They posed no threat to Jin.
That left only Magellan, Redfield, and Bullet.
Jin took a single, deliberate step forward.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
An aura as heavy and imposing as a mountain erupted from him.
The sheer pressure was almost physical, manifesting as a shockwave that swept forward like a hurricane.
Caught in the blast, the surging horde of "Dark Conversion Demons" was violently thrown back, tumbling over each other in a chaotic heap.
Even Redfield had to raise his arm to shield his face from the gale.
But despite the overwhelming pressure, the three legends held their ground.
"Get the hell out of my way!" Bullet roared, launching himself forward.
His fist, saturated with an impossibly dense Haki, resembled a black sun. He drove it straight toward Jin.
The dark radiance of his Haki illuminated the gloom. A blinding, incandescent light seemed to swallow him whole as he struck.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
A shockwave of black and red Haki detonated within the corridor of Impel Down.
A localized tempest erupted, ripping massive chunks of stone from the walls and sending them tumbling.
Jin threw a punch of his own.
DOOOOOOM!
The sound was like a war drum piercing the heavens, a rolling thunder that echoed endlessly.
Bullet was launched backward like a bullet fired from a gun. His massive body punched clean through the reinforced walls separating Level 1.2 and Level 1.3, plummeting into the darkness below.
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The Day of Execution.
The time was exactly 12:00 PM.
Across the globe, citizens were huddled around visual Den Den Mushi screens and radios, their attention utterly captivated by the World Government's highly publicized execution.
Heated debates raged in taverns and town squares.
The prevailing sentiment was clear: the Marines and the World Government were finally doing something right.
The Marines represent Justice!
Pirates embody Evil!
And the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger, was the most evil man to ever live!
These were the absolute truths the World Government had drilled into the public consciousness for decades.
This public execution was designed to be the ultimate, indisputable reinforcement of that ideology.
To achieve this, Ace's true identity had to be broadcast to the world.
He was the son of the Pirate King, Roger. He carried the cursed bloodline of the world's most heinous criminal.
Therefore, his execution was not merely justified—it was a moral imperative.
It was an act of absolute "righteousness."
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Marineford.
One hundred thousand elite Marines, recalled from bases across the world, stood in immaculate formation.
Fifty heavily armed warships formed an impenetrable blockade, ringing the crescent-shaped harbor and encircling the entire island.
The coastline bristled with countless heavy artillery batteries, primed and ready.
Standing at the absolute vanguard of the defensive line were three of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, compelled to attend by mandatory summons: Crocodile, Dracule Mihawk, and Boa Hancock.
Directly beneath the execution platform, the three highest-ranking combatants of the Marines stepped forward, taking their seats in three oversized chairs.
From left to right: Admiral Kuzan (Aokiji), Admiral Sakazuki (Akainu), and Admiral Borsalino (Kizaru).
As the three Admirals took their places, the sheer, suffocating pressure they exuded washed over the plaza, met by a deafening roar of absolute faith from the assembled troops.
Every major power broker across the globe watched with bated breath, fully comprehending the gravity of the moment.
This execution would undoubtedly be the most consequential event since Roger's death twenty years ago. It had the potential to shake the foundations of the world and ignite a war of unprecedented scale.
And the catalyst for this impending inferno, Portgas D. Ace, was currently being marched up the steps to the execution platform, flanked by his executioners.
He was forced to his knees, overlooking the sea of Marines below.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku and Vice Admiral Garp emerged from the towering headquarters building.
Sengoku ascended the platform.
He motioned for the two executioners to step aside.
He picked up a Den Den Mushi—a specialized unit linked to the broadcast network, ensuring his words would reach Sabaody Archipelago and, from there, the rest of the world.
Sengoku stood over Ace. "There is something I must declare to you all before we proceed."
A hundred thousand faces turned toward the platform, their expressions a mix of grim resolve and anxious anticipation.
Directly below sat the three Admirals. Forming the outer perimeter were the Vice Admirals, including the towering Giants, standing like unyielding gatekeepers.
"I must speak of the profound significance of Portgas D. Ace meeting his end here today."
Hearing Sengoku's words, a cold sweat broke out across Garp's face. The internal torment ravaging the old hero was painfully evident.
On the platform.
"Ace!" Sengoku's voice boomed. "State the name of your father!"
Ace flinched, his head snapping up to glare at Sengoku.
"My father is Whitebeard!"
"Wrong!"
"It's not wrong! Whitebeard is my only father! There is no one else!" Ace roared defiantly.
Sengoku began his grim recounting.
"Twenty years ago, we scoured the globe with our eyes wide open, desperately searching every island where that man might have left behind a child."
"Working with nothing but scraps of intelligence and sheer probability, we investigated every newborn, every expecting mother... yet we found absolutely nothing."
"And no wonder. Your birth was bought with your mother's life. It was a desperate, calculated deception."
The entire plaza was dead silent, hanging on every word, a wave of confusion rippling through the ranks.
"She deceived our eyes. No, she deceived the eyes of the entire world."
"On an island in the South Blue named Baterilla... there was a woman named Portgas D. Rouge."
"Driven by an obsessive devotion to her unborn child, she defied the laws of nature itself, holding you in her womb for a staggering twenty months."
"When she finally gave birth to you, her strength was completely exhausted, and she died on the spot."
"One year and three months after the father's death, an infant inheriting the world's most accursed bloodline was born."
Sengoku looked down at Ace, who was gritting his teeth in silent fury.
"That infant... was you."
"You know this to be true."
"Your father is... the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger!"
That single sentence hit the world like a thunderbolt.
Roger's bloodline had survived??
His legacy was still living and breathing??
The revelation was so staggering that even the normally stoic Warlords couldn't hide their surprise.
"It was about two years ago," Sengoku continued. "When you first set sail as the captain of the Spade Pirates..."
"That was when we finally realized Roger's lineage had not been extinguished."
"But we weren't the only ones to make that discovery. Whitebeard realized it at the very same time."
"In an effort to mold you into the next Pirate King, he took the son of his greatest rival onto his own ship."
"YOU'RE WRONG!" Ace screamed, desperate to correct the narrative. "I joined his crew to make him the Pirate King!"
"You're the only one who believes that," Sengoku countered coldly.
"The reality is, we couldn't easily move against you because Whitebeard was shielding you."
"If we had continued to turn a blind eye, we would have allowed the birth of a second Roger."
"Therefore, executing you here today holds immense significance."
"Even if it means igniting an all-out war with the Whitebeard Pirates... it is a price we are willing to pay."
Sengoku's speech was a masterclass in manipulation, instantly igniting a blazing, unified sense of "Justice" across the entire Marine force.
His insistence on revealing Ace's lineage was a calculated move to absolutely justify the impending slaughter.
If they were risking a catastrophic war with a Yonko over a mere division commander... there would undoubtedly be internal dissent and public skepticism.
But if the man on the chopping block was the son of Gol D. Roger? That changed the equation entirely.
Decades of relentless propaganda had transformed the Pirate King into the ultimate avatar of evil. To the countless civilians who had suffered during the Great Pirate Era, he was a demon incarnate. They cursed his name with their dying breaths.
A child carrying that cursed blood had to be purged.
From Sengoku's perspective, this was the absolute epitome of Marine "Justice."
Even if it meant putting his oldest friend through agonizing emotional torture.
Besides, in Sengoku's mind, Garp's decision to save Ace all those years ago had been a monumental error. Today, they were simply correcting that mistake.
The news of Ace's lineage spread like wildfire.
Those who had been victimized by pirates cursed Roger's name anew. Even those untouched by piracy eagerly shifted the blame for their own miseries onto his ghost. It was an ugly, undeniable facet of human nature.
Once the initial shock wore off, demands for his execution erupted across the globe.
Some shouted it with genuine conviction, their faces twisted with hatred. But many more simply joined the chorus because everyone else was doing it. It was the terrifying power of the mob—if you didn't scream for blood, you were the outcast.
And then!
Whitebeard and his armada arrived!
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