In the next instant, the tavern fell into a silence so heavy that even the pirates' screams seemed to be swallowed before they could leave their throats.
The moment Zaraki swung his blade, dark-gold Reiatsu and pitch-black Armament Haki gathered along Murasame's edge, compressing into a blade wave so thin and heavy that the air itself seemed to bend around it.
The slash did not roar forward like cannon fire.
It passed through the Mad Lion's Maw with a terrifying, suffocating quiet, as if the world had briefly forgotten how to make sound.
A black-gold blade aura swept out at a speed impossible for the naked eye to follow.
Sheepshead was the first to be struck.
The twisted expression on his face froze completely.
The Armament Haki covering his powerful body resisted for less than half a breath before cracking apart under the pressure, and in the next instant, the blade wave tore through him and carried his broken body backward into the collapsing remains of the tavern wall.
Then came the retreating pirate captains, the weapons in their hands, the heavy wooden beams of the Mad Lion's Maw, and the central street beyond the tavern's shattered doors.
The slash carved straight through the district.
Stone split. Walls collapsed. Signboards, abandoned carts, and the facades of several buildings were cut open in one clean line before the remaining force finally died out near the waterfront, leaving behind a deep scar across Oles Island's busiest district rather than the bottomless wound of an island destroyed from end to end.
When sound returned, it came all at once.
The crash of falling buildings.
The screams of pirates buried beneath rubble.
The shriek of sea wind rushing through the newly carved trench.
The once-crowded tavern known as the Mad Lion's Maw had been reduced to broken timber and dust, and the pirate captains who had gathered there with their bounties, arrogance, and drunken confidence had either been cut down or buried beneath the ruins.
Zaraki slowly sheathed his blade, his gaze sweeping calmly over the devastation in front of him.
'Not enough.'
'Still not enough.'
Trash of this level could not stir the hunger sleeping deeper inside him, much less satisfy the Zaraki Kenpachi template that craved stronger opponents, fiercer battles, and the kind of slaughter that could make his blood truly boil.
His Observation Haki caught a faint trace of life near the edge of the ruins.
One pirate, the one who had been farthest from the slash, had been thrown aside by the aftershock.
One side of his body had been torn open, several ribs were broken, and one leg was twisted beneath him, yet by some miracle he was still breathing.
Zaraki walked toward him.
The ground beneath his feet still radiated heat from the pressure of the slash, but he paid it no attention.
He stopped in front of the survivor and looked down at him.
The pirate's eyes were full of terror.
"You."
Zaraki's voice was calm, but every word entered the pirate's ears clearly.
"Go back and tell Kaido."
The pirate's broken body trembled.
Zaraki looked toward the distant sea, as if his gaze had already crossed the waters and landed on the monster waiting in the New World.
"Tell him there's a Marine from the East Blue who thinks his blade is worth letting Kaido personally swing that kanabo for."
With that, Zaraki no longer looked at him.
His right wrist flicked lightly.
Clink.
Murasame slid fully back into its sheath, and the pressure that had made the entire central district struggle to breathe vanished in an instant.
Zaraki casually kicked through a pile of wooden crates that had not yet completely burned to charcoal and found an intact bottle of rum among the wreckage.
He popped the cork off with his thumb and took a long drink.
The harsh liquor slid down his throat and into his stomach, leaving behind only the faintest trace of warmth.
Bottle in hand, Zaraki turned and leisurely walked back toward the dock.
Behind him, the cloak embroidered with the word Justice snapped loudly in the fierce wind blowing through the ruined street.
Only after his figure disappeared at the far end of the dock did the pirate who had narrowly survived convulse violently.
From the edge of death, his survival instincts erupted.
He let out a scream that barely sounded human and crawled toward the beach on the other side, only one thought left in his mind.
'Run! Hurry up and run! Bring news of this demon back to the New World!'
...
At the same time, in a stretch of sea not far from Oles Island.
A massive pirate ship with a savage mammoth head carved into its bow was cutting through the waves.
On the deck, members of the Beasts Pirates were shouting, gambling, and drinking, the atmosphere loud and brutal.
"Hahaha! That Marine brat called Zaraki has probably pissed himself by now!"
"He dared kill one of the Beasts Pirates, and he still has the nerve to wander around near the New World route. He really doesn't know how death is spelled!"
"When Lord Jack arrives, one swing of his trunk will smash that tiny warship into pieces!"
At the center of the crowd sat a man as large as a mountain, occupying a specially made chair with obvious impatience.
He wore a metal jaw guard and carried two enormous ivory-like weapons on his back.
He was one of the Beasts Pirates' Three Calamities, Jack the Drought.
"Are we there yet? Why are you all so damn slow?"
Jack's voice was as heavy as thunder, and the impatience in his tone instantly silenced the surrounding noise.
"Lord Jack, we're almost there."
A beautiful woman with sheep horns walked over.
She was Ginrummy, one of the Beasts Pirates' Headliners and a user of an artificial sheep SMILE.
"He's only a rookie from Marine Headquarters, yet we had to mobilize this many people..." another Gifter with bat wings muttered in dissatisfaction.
"That useless Sheepshead couldn't even deal with someone like that."
Ginrummy ignored his complaint.
In her hand was a photo that had just been printed from a Den Den Mushi fax machine, and her brows were tightly furrowed.
"Lord Jack, something... seems wrong."
"Hm?"
Jack glanced at her.
Ginrummy handed over the freshly printed photo, the smell of ink still lingering on it.
Her voice was dry.
"This is a photo our intelligence personnel near Oles Island just sent over."
Jack impatiently snatched it from her hand.
The image was somewhat blurry, but the content was clear enough.
In the aerial photograph, Oles Island's central district had been split open by a long, straight scar.
The town had not vanished entirely, but the wound through its busiest area was so clean and brutal that it looked as though a giant blade had been dragged across the island's surface.
The deck instantly fell silent.
Everyone stretched their necks and stared fixedly at the photo.
The arrogance and wild confidence on their faces slowly stiffened, turning into shock.
"This is... Oles Island?" the bat-winged man stammered. "A Marine bombardment?"
"No."
Ginrummy shook her head. Her voice carried a slight tremble as she looked at Jack.
"The report says... only one person caused this."
"And according to the survivor, he left a message for... for Lord Kaido."
Jack suddenly flipped the photo over.
On the back of the photograph was a line transcribed from the survivor's testimony.
—"The Marine they call War Demon is waiting. If Kaido wants my head, tell him to come take it himself."
Dead silence.
On the deck, even the sound of breathing disappeared.
The bat-winged man who had been complaining moments ago was now deathly pale, his lips trembling.
An absurd and terrifying thought rose uncontrollably from the depths of his heart.
"He... he challenged Lord Kaido directly?"
"Then... then what about Lord Jack?"
"From beginning to end, he didn't even mention Lord Jack once... Does that mean...?"
---------
Read 30 chapters ahead and support me on patreon.
patreon (.)com/Newbietranslator