"'Ice Age'…"
Samuel Kronos was the first to fully snap out of the upheaval.
For the first time, a ripple of emotion broke through his usually even tone. His faintly glowing green eyes locked instantly onto the tall figure slowly taking shape in the doorway.
"The former Admiral… Kuzan."
At the entrance, the drifting frost began to thin.
A tall man dressed like a drifter leaned casually against the doorframe, a small pack slung over his shoulder. One hand rested in his pocket, while the other held—
A drink.
…Or rather, what used to be a drink.
The juice inside had long since frozen solid, the tiny umbrella still stuck awkwardly into the icy lump.
Kuzan tilted his head slightly. Beneath his messy curls and small round sunglasses was a face that looked faintly drowsy—like he hadn't quite finished waking up.
"Yo," he greeted lazily, his gaze sweeping over the room full of tense pirates before settling on the man seated at the head.
"Quite the lively gathering, Marshall D. Teach."
"Dropping in uninvited—hope I'm not interrupting your little party."
His tone was as casual as a neighbor stopping by for a chat.
But the invisible chill radiating from him told a different story.
The temperature in the hall continued to plummet. Frost began creeping across the walls and floor, spreading in delicate crystalline patterns.
"You…!" Blackbeard's earlier laughter had long since frozen on his face, replaced by a mixture of shock and fury.
His eyes locked onto Kuzan like a predator.
How is he here?
He froze the entire outer perimeter of Hachinosu… silently?
Pizarro… Sanjuan Wolf… both taken down instantly?
What kind of speed… what kind of range… does that require?!
But what truly shook him—
Was that Kuzan had walked straight into the very core of his stronghold.
The outer patrols? The traps? The sentries?
Had they all been wiped out… in that single instant?
"Heh… quick reaction, 'Plague Doctor.'" Kuzan didn't so much as glance at Blackbeard's murderous stare. Instead, his eyes drifted lazily toward Samuel.
"I hear you're good with… little fungal tricks?"
The moment his words fell—
Samuel's index finger twitched ever so slightly.
Invisible to the naked eye, nearly indistinguishable from the air itself, microscopic fungal threads had already spread silently—from beneath his feet, from the back of his chair, even from the cold moisture hanging in the air.
Now—
They struck.
Not at Kuzan directly—
But at the thin layer of ice beneath his feet… and the frozen drink in his hand.
This was Samuel's instinct under extreme danger.
His power did not rely on brute force.
It infiltrated.
Corroded.
Converted.
It sought the smallest opening.
Unfortunately—
"Too slow."
Kuzan's voice, tinged with faint disappointment, sounded almost at the exact instant Samuel moved.
"…What?!"
Behind the mask, Samuel's pupils shrank to pinpoints.
His Observation Haki—
Hadn't detected a single trace of movement.
Kuzan had vanished from the doorway like a phantom—
And appeared beside him as if he had always been there.
Less than half a meter away.
A gloved hand reached out casually—
And tapped Samuel lightly on the shoulder.
"And putting mold in someone else's stuff… not very polite."
"Crk… crk… crk—!"
A chilling, brittle freezing sound spread instantly from the point of contact.
Not from the outside.
From within.
Every cell.
Every drop of moisture.
Even the very fungal power coursing through Samuel's body—
All of it froze, instantly, completely… from the inside out.
He didn't get a second move.
Didn't get a chance to speak.
He remained frozen mid-expression, mouth slightly open as if about to say something—
His ornate robes, his grotesque mask, the writhing fungal threads at his fingertips—
Even the faint trace of shock in his eyes—
All sealed in ice.
A new sculpture stood beside Blackbeard.
Perfectly lifelike.
Perfectly still.
Samuel Kronos… frozen forever in the moment he turned, perhaps to call for help.
Another one.
Instantly dealt with.
The Blackbeard Pirates' core strategist—the enigmatic and terrifying "Plague Doctor"—had been reduced to nothing more than an ornament.
Without resistance.
"SAMUEL!!"
Blackbeard roared, his eyes splitting with fury.
Rage and fear exploded within him at once.
A violent surge of power erupted from his body—
In his left hand, a vortex of pitch-black gravity from the Dark-Dark Fruit twisted into existence, devouring light itself.
In his right, his fist clenched tight—
A white spherical shock field formed, the air around it vibrating violently, groaning under the pressure.
He was about to annihilate everything—
This frozen bastard, this hall—everything.
"Oh?" Kuzan didn't seem the least bit concerned by the catastrophic power about to be unleashed.
He didn't even bother to assume a defensive stance.
He simply stood there, watching.
"Using Whitebeard's power, huh…" he said mildly, his voice cutting cleanly through the trembling hum of the air.
"Not a bad idea."
His gaze drifted, deliberately, across the other officers in the room.
They were pale now, shaken by the cold—but still trying to act.
Shiryu's hand rested on the hilt of Raiu.Catarina Devon's fingertips flickered with foxfire.Jesus Burgess tensed, muscles bulging.Van Augur slowly raised his rifle.Doc Q's sickly horse pawed the ground restlessly.
"But…" Kuzan continued calmly, "if you go all out with the Tremor-Tremor Fruit here…"
He lifted a finger, lightly pointing around the hall—at the frozen sculptures, at the men already succumbing to the creeping cold.
"Your 'friends' here…"
"Are gonna go crack…"
A faint smile touched his lips.
In the frozen silence, under the suffocating cold—
It looked terrifying.
"…and shatter into pieces you won't be able to put back together."
Blackbeard's raised fist—
Stopped.
Midair.
The white shock sphere flickered… then slowly dissipated.
His face twisted violently, muscles contorting as rage, frustration, caution, and calculation clashed within him.
He stared at Kuzan.
Then at Samuel's frozen figure beside him.
Then at the devastation outside—the frozen town, the immobilized Sanjuan Wolf.
Kuzan was right.
The Tremor-Tremor Fruit wasn't like Gern's controlled "Skyquake."
Once unleashed, its destruction was indiscriminate.
In this enclosed space—
The first to die wouldn't be Kuzan.
It would be his own crew.
They might withstand the initial shockwave—
But not the secondary collapse of shattered ice and collapsing structures.
And if he lost Samuel, Pizarro, Wolf… and then Shiryu, Devon—
Even if he escaped alive—
The Blackbeard Pirates would be finished.
"…You…" Blackbeard forced the words out through clenched teeth.
"What the hell do you want, Kuzan?!"
He forced himself to calm down.
Kuzan hadn't come in killing indiscriminately—not yet.
Instead, he had appeared like this.
Controlled. Measured. Almost… playful.
There had to be a reason.
Kuzan didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he walked calmly into the room, pulled out a chair at the massive table, and sat down as if he owned the place.
He even set his frozen drink on the table.
"Nothing special," he said, folding his hands over his knees, looking up at Blackbeard and the tense, unmoving officers surrounding him.
"Just…"
"Came to have a little talk."
His gaze drifted briefly toward the frozen wasteland outside.
"In a quiet place like this…"
His tone remained utterly matter-of-fact.
"…there's less chance of being interrupted, don't you think?"
...
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