Chapter 177: The Puppet and the True Beast!
The main street of the Flower Capital was deadly silent.
It was not the peaceful silence of a sleeping city, nor the tranquil quiet of a temple. It was the heavy, suffocating silence of a graveyard immediately following a massacre.
The air was thick, choked with the dust kicked up by the brief but violent clash, and permeated by a nauseating mixture of scents.
There was the copper tang of fresh blood, the acrid smoke of destruction, and above all, a sickening, reptilian stench—a pungent odor of sulfur and musk emanating from the cooling corpse of the purple giant python.
The massive, mountain-like body of the Yamata no Orochi lay sprawled across the center of the street, blocking the path like a grotesque barricade of flesh and scales.
Its formerly ferocious heads, which had terrorized the populace of Wano for twenty agonizing years, were now scattered on the ground like carelessly discarded trash.
Some were severed cleanly at the neck, the cauterized wounds still smoking; others were twisted at unnatural angles, bones shattered.
On their faces, a look of comical terror was frozen forever—eyes bulging, tongues lolling out, expressions of a tyrant who realized too late that he was nothing more than prey in the face of true predators.
The doors and windows of the surrounding traditional wooden houses were tightly shut, bolted and barred from the inside.
The colorful lanterns that usually adorned the streets swayed mournfully in the wind. It was as if the entire capital had instantly transformed into a Ghost Realm, devoid of life.
However, life was there. It was hiding.
Behind every paper screen, behind every crack in the wooden walls, countless fearful glances peered out. Eyes wide with shock, terror, and a confusing, bubbling hint of schadenfreude watched the scene. The citizens held their breath, hands clamped over their mouths to stifle screams, witnessing the impossible corpse of the Shogun who had ruled them with absolute fear now reduced to mere meat.
"It's... over just like that?"
Nami's beautiful face was filled with utter disbelief and... a slight, unmissable hint of disgust.
She stood near the tail of the massive snake, her Clima-Tact still gripped tightly in her hand, though the heat of battle hadn't even had time to warm the metal. She looked around, shifting her gaze from the collapsed wall that Orochi had smashed through in his final struggle, to the massive yet "fragile" corpse that lay at their feet.
"Seriously?"
Nami couldn't help but complain, her voice echoing slightly in the quiet street. She kicked a piece of rubble, watching it skitter against the Shogun's dead purple scales.
"From the moment he transformed until he was taken care of... did it even take five minutes? No, it felt like three."
She looked at Suzaku, her expression a mix of confusion and disappointment.
"This was the 'General' who ruled a country? A Mythical Zoan Type Devil Fruit user? The ancient texts say Mythical Zoans are rarer than Logias! They are supposed to be gods incarnate! How did he feel even weaker than the small fry we dealt with in the East Blue? Even Arlong put up more of a fight than this oversized garden snake!"
She sighed, blowing a strand of orange hair out of her face, wearing an expression that clearly said, 'I hadn't even started trying, and you already fell.'
"Honestly, completely unworthy of his reputation. Far too unworthy! I prepared my thunderclouds, I calculated the wind direction... I thought we were going to have a fierce battle that would destroy half the city! I was ready to run for my life!"
Her words accurately reflected the thoughts of most people present. The anticlimax was palpable.
Esdeath stood a few paces away, her pristine white uniform contrasting sharply with the dirty, blood-stained street. She looked down at one of Orochi's severed heads—the one wearing the crushed Shogun's crown—with cold, azure eyes.
"Boring."
She uttered the single word with profound disappointment. She flicked her wrist, cleaning the nonexistent blood from her rapier with a sharp swing before boredly returning the saber to its sheath with a crisp click.
In her ice-blue eyes, the slight flicker of interest that had just ignited when Orochi transformed was completely extinguished. What remained was only contempt, the kind one reserves for rotting garbage.
"He had power, but no will. He had a strong fruit, but a weak soul," Esdeath critiqued mercilessly, her voice dripping with the philosophy of the strong. "He relied entirely on the intimidation of his form, never honing his own strength. For me, this 'fight' couldn't even be called a battle; it was more like slaughtering livestock. A waste of time."
Ulquiorra Cifer stood silently by Suzaku's side, his hands in his pockets. His face was a mask of indifference, the teal tear markings on his cheeks emphasizing his hollowness. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. To him, trash was trash, regardless of its size or title. The moment he fired his Cero, the outcome was decided.
However, the one with the most complex reaction was Nekomamushi.
The massive cat Mink stood over the main body of the snake. His sharp claws were still extended, trembling slightly—not from fear, but from the adrenaline crash and a storm of conflicting emotions.
He looked at Orochi's corpse with a deeply complicated expression. The initial rush of excitement and vengeance had faded, leaving a strange, aching hollowness in his chest.
"Meow..."
He had imagined this moment countless times over the last twenty years. During the cold nights on Zou, during the Master's torture, he had dreamed of the scene where he would personally tear out Orochi's throat to avenge Lord Oden. He expected a desperate struggle, a bloodbath, a fight that would push him to his limits and require him to sacrifice his life.
But he never expected it to be so... overwhelming. So decisive. So quick.
It felt cheap.
"Lord Oden died because of this thing?" Nekomamushi murmured, his voice rough with unshed tears. "We suffered for two decades because of this... coward?"
The enemy's weakness made the hatred in their hearts feel somewhat misplaced. It was like preparing to fight a dragon, only to realize it was a lizard wearing a dragon's skin. The sheer anti-climax was almost insulting to the memory of the samurai who had suffered and died fighting this regime.
Seeing the identical looks of speechlessness, disdain, and confusion on everyone's faces, Suzaku couldn't help but laugh aloud.
"Hahaha!"
His clear laughter broke the heavy atmosphere, startling Nami and pulling Nekomamushi out of his spiral. Suzaku stepped forward, clapping his hands together to draw everyone's attention away from the disgusting carcass.
"Alright, stop looking at him like that. He's dead, not a museum exhibit."
Suzaku pointed casually at the corpse on the ground, a playful, knowing smile playing on his lips.
"Are you finding it incredible that the ruler of a country—a Shogun—only had this level of power?"
Nami nodded repeatedly, looking like a curious child seeking answers from a teacher. "Exactly! It's too strange! This Orochi... felt like nothing but a buffoon. A clown in a Shogun's costume."
"You're half right," Suzaku said, his voice becoming steady and clear, cutting through the confusion like a blade.
"He was indeed a buffoon. But you must correct your perception, Nami. He was never the true 'ruler' of this country."
Suzaku's gaze swept over everyone, from Esdeath's boredom to Nekomamushi's conflict, before finally resting on the distant horizon. He looked past the capital, past the wasteland, towards the ominous skull-shaped island shrouded in storm clouds floating in the sea.
"You must understand that Wano Country, starting twenty years ago, has not been ruled by the Kurozumi clan. It has been entirely under the control of the 'Strongest Creature in the World'."
Suzaku's eyes narrowed slightly, his Haki leaking out just enough to drop the temperature.
"Everything here—the suffering of the populace, the toxic environmental pollution, the massive manufacturing of weapons, the smile fruit factories... behind all this twisted order, stands one man. Or rather, one monster."
"Beast Kaido."
The name hung in the air, heavier than the corpse at their feet. It carried a weight of dread that Orochi's name never could.
"As for Orochi," Suzaku gestured dismissively at the snake, treating it as one would a dead rat, "at best, he was just a puppet. A convenient administrative tool that Kaido casually pushed to the forefront to facilitate ruling Wano Country openly without dealing with the politics himself."
"Kaido needed a face to sign the laws. He needed a 'Shogun' to oppress the samurai while he built his army. Orochi was a 'target' that allowed Kaido to bleed the country dry while taking all the blame from the citizens."
Suzaku walked over to Nekomamushi and patted the large Mink on the shoulder, grounding him.
"His so-called 'General' position was merely a bone Kaido tossed to a loyal dog. Now that we've taken that bone away and killed the dog, the real vicious beast... the master of the house... should be coming out of its lair."
These words brought sudden enlightenment to everyone.
So that's it!
Instantly, the atmosphere shifted. The relaxation that had settled in due to the overly easy battle evaporated, replaced by a solemn, razor-sharp tension. The air felt heavier.
The realization hit them: They hadn't won the war. They had just knocked over the gatekeeper.
The true enemy is one of the Four Emperors of the Sea! An entity that rivaled Whitebeard! A monster that couldn't be killed by conventional means!
"So, next..."
Suzaku looked around, his demeanor shifting from explanatory to commanding. He began giving orders. His voice was not loud, but it carried undeniable authority that made every spine straighten.
"Nekomamushi."
"Here!"
Nekomamushi immediately stepped forward, snapping to attention. His tail stood straight up. His expression was no longer confused or sorrowful; it was solemn and ready for duty. He pushed aside his grief to serve his new Captain.
"The Flower Capital needs a temporary administrator. We cannot leave it in anarchy."
Suzaku looked at him, his eyes full of trust.
"Until a new Shogun is born, I need you and the Mink Tribe warriors to stay behind. I need you to temporarily maintain order here."
Suzaku gestured to the closed doors where the terrified citizens were still hiding.
"Pacify the populace. Tell them Orochi is dead, but warn them not to riot yet. Protect the food stores. Ensure the fire doesn't spread. And most importantly, investigate the crimes of the Generals Mansion. Secure the records, the treasures, and the prisoners. Can you do that?"
Nekomamushi took a deep breath. He understood the weight of this task. It wasn't just guarding a street; it was holding the heart of the country while the captain went to cut off the head of the beast.
"Please leave it to us, Lord Suzaku!"
Nekomamushi pounded his massive chest forcefully with a hairy fist. The sound was like a drumbeat, echoing off the wooden buildings. His eyes shone with unprecedented determination and loyalty.
"I know Wano Country like the back of my hand! I know its people, and I know its pain."
He glanced at the tightly shut doors and windows around them, then grinned, revealing his sharp white teeth in a ferocious smile.
"Don't worry about the rear, Captain. Right now, the Flower Capital is probably the safest place in the entire world. These cowards? Or the spies of Kaido?" He gestured vaguely at the shadows. "Until the battle between you and Kaido is decided, they wouldn't dare cause trouble even if you gave them a hundred times the courage!"
This was true. The populace feared Kaido's retaliation, yes. But after witnessing the sky split, the lightning fall, and the Shogun die in less than five minutes, they now respected—and feared—Suzaku's group as "gods" capable of altering reality.
When gods fight, the best choice for mortals is to hide, tremble, and pray they aren't stepped on.
"Very good." Suzaku nodded in satisfaction.
"Then I leave it to you."
"Yes! Captain!!"
Behind Nekomamushi, all the Mink Tribe warriors—lions, bears, wolves, and bulls—uniformly dropped to one knee.
"ROAR!!"
They let out a thunderous chorus of roars that shook the dust from the rooftops. Their morale soared to the heavens. They were finally able to work for the Captain, to contribute to the liberation of their ancestral allies. Every one of them was full of energy, ready to tear apart anyone who dared disturb the peace of the capital their Captain had just liberated.
Having arranged the matters of the rear, Suzaku turned around.
The wind picked up, blowing his white coat and carrying the scent of the coming storm. He scanned his main combat team one by one.
Esdeath, grinning with anticipation, her hand resting on her rapier, eager for a real challenge.
Ulquiorra, silent and ready, his spiritual pressure subtly distorting the air around him.
Hashirama Senju, cracking his knuckles, his wooden armor creaking, a look of focused determination on his face.
Uchiha Madara, looking bored but attentive, his Rinnegan glowing faintly in the dim light.
Excitement and eagerness were written all over their faces. They were predators who had just finished a light snack and were now hungry for the feast.
"Alright, everyone."
Suzaku took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the air of Wano—air that would soon be cleansed of tyranny. The smile on his lips turned sharp, dangerous, and battle-ready.
"The appetizer is finished. It was tasteless, but it served its purpose. It's time to go meet the main course of this feast."
His gaze turned toward the distance, past the capital, past the wastelands, locking onto the silhouette of Onigashima. He could almost feel the dragon's breath from here.
"Our destination..."
"Onigashima!"
"Let's go! Let's go completely eliminate the 'strongest creature' from my land!"
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