Kuma accepted the box without hesitation.
War didn't care about pride.
If the choice was "lose some lifespan" or "lose your life," it wasn't even a choice.
He gathered everything, removed his glove, and pressed his palm to the stacked goods.
Whoosh—
All of it vanished.
Kuma turned back to White Ghost. "Then… until next time."
Just as he was about to leave, White Ghost spoke.
"How far along are the modifications?"
Kuma's palm paused.
"I don't understand what you mean."
White Ghost smiled faintly. "Do you regret it?"
Kuma was silent for a long moment.
Then he answered calmly, without wavering:
"For the revolution, I can give everything. This is a small price."
He touched himself—
Whoosh—
and disappeared.
As he flew through the night air, Kuma took out a Den Den Mushi and dialed.
Bero bero bero…
Click.
The Den Den Mushi's face shifted—cross-shaped markings appeared.
Dragon's voice came through. "Kuma. Did the deal go through?"
Kuma replied, "I sent everything. I tested the firearms—they're several times better than ordinary weapons."
"And he included extra items for you."
Dragon's voice softened slightly. "Good. So he didn't lie. It wasn't for nothing that I helped him before."
Kuma hesitated, then added, "He knows a great deal—including our connection with Vegapunk."
Dragon went quiet.
Kuma continued, "He also knows about my modifications. Very few outsiders do."
Dragon's Den Den Mushi face hardened. "Did he say anything else?"
"He asked me one thing," Kuma said evenly. "Whether I regret it."
"—Kuma, if you—" Dragon started.
"I don't regret it," Kuma cut in immediately.
Click.
Dragon hung up.
He stepped out into the corridor.
Even at this hour, a blond boy was still training.
Dragon watched him and thought:
Regret? Why would I?
I've fought this long to tear down the Celestial Dragons' rule—for the future of kids like this.
The blond boy looked up. A burn scar circled one eye.
"Dragon… can you guide me?"
Dragon's mouth lifted slightly.
Then—
Whoosh—
he appeared in front of the boy.
Sabo spun the metal pipe in his hand, eyes shining. "Finally! I get to spar with you!"
He rushed in.
Dragon smiled, lifted a single finger, and tapped the pipe.
Clang!
Sabo's face darkened.
Blocked with one finger.
Sabo flushed—not from embarrassment, but from pure fury.
From the adjacent room, a girl in pajamas stumbled out, half-asleep.
"You idiot, Sabo… how could you possibly beat Dragon?"
Sabo went even redder. He gritted his teeth and charged again.
The girl stomped, instantly awake and furious. "Idiot! You never listen—always reckless!"
Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—
Every strike Sabo threw was stopped.
Still just one finger.
Dragon began using Armament now—Sabo's strength wasn't small.
With each clash, Dragon calmly evaluated:
"Good speed."
"Power's lacking."
"Physique is decent."
Sabo's face turned iron-blue.
He was seething.
Dragon chuckled softly. "Didn't you ask for guidance? You're already tired?"
Sabo lowered his stance, calves coiling, eyes bloodshot with stubbornness.
Dragon curled a finger at him.
"Come."
Whoosh!
Sabo exploded forward.
He reached Dragon—
Dragon didn't move.
Sabo didn't hesitate.
He reached straight for Dragon's groin.
Dragon's mouth twitched.
This kid fights dirty…
For some reason, Dragon suddenly thought of White Ghost.
That man fought dirty too.
Kerla covered her face.
She couldn't watch.
The others nearby all wore the same pained expression.
Dragon grabbed Sabo's wrist, about to speak—
Sabo grinned and reached in with the other hand.
Dragon sighed internally.
Where did he learn this? He hasn't even met White Ghost…
Dragon released him.
Whoosh—
he vanished.
Sabo's eyes widened.
Then a sharp pain bloomed in his backside.
Sabo's young face turned crimson.
"AAAH—!"
He went flying straight toward Kerla.
Karasu caught him easily, laughing. "Bold kid. Challenging the Chief—courage is admirable."
Lindbergh, the mink inventor, stepped out too, chuckling. "Ha! Sabo's still overflowing with energy."
Belo Betty, wearing an eyepatch, watched lazily and said nothing.
Sabo rubbed his head for a long time before he finally stood.
And yet—
for some reason, there were tears in his eyes.
He glared at Dragon, hands shaping into claws.
"Dragon Claw!"
Dragon smiled. "You learned it already? Good talent."
"But you still haven't learned Haki."
Sabo didn't answer.
He charged again, claws slashing repeatedly.
Dragon sidestepped with calm footwork, still evaluating.
Not long after, Sabo was panting hard, face frighteningly dark.
Dragon tilted his head. "What? Done already?"
Sabo bent his knees again, legs coiling.
Dragon beckoned again.
Sabo burst forward—
Dragon didn't move.
Sabo reached again—
for the same target.
Dragon's expression went flat.
"Enough."
In the next instant—
Whoosh.
Sabo blinked.
Then—
PAK!
A clean, brutal flick landed square on his forehead.
"AAAHHHH!!!"
The scream echoed through the base.
The pajama girl covered her face.
It was just a forehead flick… why is he screaming like he got stabbed?
Kerla dragged Sabo back into the room, complaining nonstop.
"Seriously! You idiot! You actually dared to fight Dragon—!"
She applied medicine while nagging.
A minute later, she paused.
No response.
She looked down.
Sabo was already asleep.
Kerla's eyes sparked with fury.
She slapped the exact spot he'd just injured.
"AAAHHHH!!!"
The scream carried even farther this time.
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