Elegance, courtesy—those were nothing more than carefully crafted disguises Valentine wore for himself.
He never truly cared about the lives of his crew. The only thing on his mind was how to accomplish his objective.
Up until now, everything that had happened had remained within his expectations. He did not believe anything had slipped beyond his control.
That was why, whether it was Nereus appearing before him or his crew being slaughtered, Valentine still appeared perfectly at ease.
But after dragging Nereus into the water, the situation gradually began slipping out of his control, and a bad feeling started to rise in his heart.
"No way! That's impossible! Devil Fruit users are hated by the sea—no matter how strong they are, once their whole body is submerged, they lose their strength!
Fake! This is all fake! Right... that's it... vampires can hypnotize people—I must've fallen under your illusion... As long as I break free of your hypnosis, the winner will still be me!"
The composure on Valentine's face gradually crumbled, giving way to something close to madness.
Sweat kept seeping from his forehead and drifting away. The seawater around him no longer felt cool and comfortable as before; instead, it had turned into a chill that seeped deep into his bones.
This feeling of losing control unsettled him badly, and he could only keep forcing these thoughts on himself to barely suppress the panic inside.
If Nereus, as a Devil Fruit user, truly did not fear the curse of the sea—
Then for a human, knowing full well that his opponent was a fish-man, to voluntarily shift the battlefield into the depths of the ocean was stupidity beyond what the word itself could describe.
Bang!
Bang!
Valentine swung his fists hard into his own face, as if trying to use pain to force himself awake from some hypnotic illusion.
That utterly undignified display made Nereus completely lose interest in him.
"What's wrong? The moment you see something beyond your understanding, your brain stops working? You can't accept reality anymore?"
Nereus made no exaggerated movement. He merely raised one arm casually and gripped Valentine's throat firmly.
"I'm a fish-man too. The natural gift granted by my fish species is the ability to generate a special membrane over my body that isolates seawater from affecting me.
You keep claiming you admire me, yet you didn't even investigate something this basic?"
Nereus even felt Valentine qualified as a fake fan—not even as committed as obsessive stalkers.
At least when those people went mad, they really managed to dig things up.
Every fish-man possessed abilities unique to their species. For many, those abilities were not obvious—merely breathing underwater and possessing great strength.
But some fish-men with special traits could make practical use of those innate biological gifts.
Nanamo could release strong acid. Nereus himself could use that close-fitting bubble membrane as a unique protective layer, allowing him to retain full combat ability underwater.
And unlike artificially produced resin bubble coatings that were fragile in battle, this membrane was not man-made.
As long as Nereus remained alive and his stamina had not run dry, he could continuously replenish and repair the membrane, making it as reliable as a second skin—enough to sustain intense combat.
And for Nereus, the stamina required to maintain it was no different from breathing.
For ordinary fish-men, the ability had little meaning. But for someone like Nereus, a Devil Fruit user, it was exceptionally valuable.
"Fake... this is all fake! How could there be such a huge flaw in my carefully planned scheme... cough... cough... what... exactly... is happening...?"
Valentine suddenly realized the strength inside his body was draining away at an astonishing speed. His entire body began turning stiff and numb, his legs no longer obeying his mind.
The tailored suit that had once fit him perfectly now looked loose and sagging on his frame.
Soaked completely by the freezing seawater, and with his weak struggling, his sleeves slipped down, exposing both arms completely.
Valentine had never been an overly bulky muscular man, but he had at least possessed a lean, strong physique. Yet now his arms looked as withered as rotten wood.
His muscles shrank and wasted away, his skin loosened into wrinkles, as if he had aged decades in an instant.
"Didn't you say it yourself earlier? This Devil Fruit of mine can steal other people's lifespan.
I'll be taking your lifespan. I left you about five minutes. No need to thank me—use it to savor the last moments of your life."
Stealing lifespan through physical contact was the most basic ability of this Devil Fruit. As long as the user wasn't utterly incompetent, they could grasp this power the moment they ate it.
In the original timeline, Redfield had stolen others' lifespan after eating this fruit and restored his youth.
If the user wished, they could also return that stolen time.
Nereus had eaten this Devil Fruit long ago; using such a basic ability now was second nature to him.
And to Nereus, stealing lifespan and drinking blood were completely different matters. A person as self-absorbed as Valentine did not even make him want to taste his blood.
Someone who lost composure this badly the moment things exceeded expectations could not possibly possess strong Haki—certainly not enough to resist Nereus draining his lifespan.
"No... my youth... my ambition... how can it... disappear... like this..."
A surge of unwillingness and despair flooded Valentine's heart as he struggled with every last ounce of strength in the seawater.
Yet this body, stripped of time by Nereus, could no longer support any meaningful resistance.
A wave crashed over him, icy seawater flooding into his already weakened lungs. He instinctively tried to cough it out violently, only to inhale even more seawater in the process.
The suffocating pain mixed with the icy despair of approaching death completely enveloped Valentine's aged body.
His gaze gradually dimmed and unfocused as he watched the patch of sea surface above—the symbol of life—grow farther and farther away.
At the very end, he could only helplessly stretch one trembling hand upward.
That distance, once so close it seemed within reach, had now become an unreachable chasm.
Valentine never surfaced again, remaining forever in the dark, freezing depths of the West Blue seafloor.
Only the empty pirate ship of the Valentine Pirates remained, proof that such a pirate crew had once existed in this world.