Thud—clang. Thud—clang.
Thud—clang—clang.
Feeling the steady tremors from above, and seeing the growing cracks spreading across the ceiling, Paradi chewed on a strip of jerky, furrowing his brow as he stared at Mosa's face. He spoke seriously:
"Mosa, tell me everything you know about the Chris Pirates... and Aeridar. I'll let you go."
Mosa gave him a lazy glance, swallowed the last bite of his jerky, and then stretched languidly.
"Give me another piece."
"..."
The corner of Paradi's mouth twitched, but he still tossed him another strip.
Picking up the jerky from the floor, Mosa sat up slowly, took a bite, and mumbled through his food:
"Honestly, I don't know that much about Aeridar either. After the battle at Loguetown broke out, a bunch of pirates managed to escape. I overheard them chatting about Aeridar at a tavern."
"They said that Golden Ring—Aeridar—was an absolute monster. He fought two Rear Admirals at once and completely demolished an entire street. They even said he wiped out the entire garrison of a Marine branch base... with just a single punch.
"All I know is that the Chris Pirates used to be a gang before they became a pirate crew."
"Used to be a gang?"
Paradi's brows tightened. A thought flashed through his mind as he muttered under his breath:
"Chris Pirates... formerly a gang... the Chris Syndicate!"
Damn it!
Wasn't that the same gang from Shiga Island in the East Blue—the one that nearly wiped out all of Crimson Man-Eating Flower's forces there?
Paradi's heart skipped a beat.
Old enemies, huh.
"Hehehe... you remember now, don't you?"
Mosa gnawed on his jerky, a cold sneer curling his lips.
"The battles between your Crimson Man-Eating Flower and the Chris Syndicate shook half of East Blue back then."
Paradi's eyes narrowed sharply.
"Enough pointless chatter. Got any other intel?"
"Nope."
Mosa rolled his eyes and lazily flopped back down, the chains on his body clinking noisily as he moved.
Paradi's face grew darker by the second. His gaze sharpened, emanating a chilling aura.
"Are you playing games with me?!"
He realized something—these prisoners were getting way too bold lately. Even with Crimson Man-Eating Flower battered by the Boa Sisters, did these fools seriously think three rookie pirate crews could finish them off?
Don't be ridiculous.
We have the backing of the Celestial Dragons and the wealthiest nobles. Even some of the New World's big-name pirates work with us! No way we'd lose to some rookies who haven't even broken a hundred million in bounty yet!
Fury boiled inside him. He felt the urge to execute a few prisoners right now, just to restore order.
Then—
"Tch... idiot. He's just stalling for time," a mocking voice drifted from Cell No. 8.
"Stalling?!"
Paradi froze, confused for a split second.
"Hahaha! You idiot! How could you blurt that out?!"
Mosa roared with laughter, but inside he understood: the guy in Cell No. 8 was trying to distract Paradi, give Mosa a better chance to survive.
"With a clumsy fool like you stalling, you're liable to get killed," the shirtless, heavily muscled man inside Cell No. 8 scoffed disdainfully.
"And if that guy outside is really as strong as they say... even if he hasn't killed Fat Bear yet, Fat Bear should be seriously injured by now."
"Damn it, damn it!"
Paradi felt like lightning had struck his mind—clarity hit him like a hammer.
He shot a venomous glare at Mosa and hurriedly turned to leave.
But he only managed two steps before—
BOOM!
Near the staircase leading to the third deck, the ceiling suddenly shattered.
Splintered wood rained down like a storm, and in the haze of dust, a massive black shadow crashed down heavily, shaking the entire third deck on impact.
"Wh-what was that?!"
"Is the ship shaking?!"
"Did something fall?!"
"Don't tell me... those two guys crashed down?!"
The sudden quake sent a jolt of fear through everyone in the prison.
After all, the lowest deck of a ship was usually the thickest and sturdiest. If this deck gave out... the whole ship might sink.
"That... that's..."
Through the swirling dust, Paradi's pupils dilated in terror.
Then his expression twisted violently.
"This aura—!"
Soru!
Paradi's body flickered and vanished instantly.
"Here he comes!"
Mosa grinned with barely contained excitement.
"If we're gonna get out of this hellhole... it has to be today."
The shirtless man inside Cell No. 8 crossed his legs by the door, staring outward.
Sriya's heart pounded violently as he recalled something he overheard while reporting to Marine Headquarters—Fleet Admiral Sengoku the Buddha himself had described Chris T. Aeridar as:
"The most dangerous of the new generation... a little monster among pirates."
"Capture confirmed!"
Moving at lightning speed, Paradi's eyes gleamed. He extended his index finger, coating it with a metallic black sheen.
Rokushiki—Shigan—Black Needle!
In midair, just after crashing through the ceiling, Aeridar seemed to sense the threat.
He tilted his head slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Heh... a sneak attack? You seriously think you can bridge the gap between us with something like this?"
Snap—
Aeridar casually caught Paradi's wrist mid-attack, effortlessly stopping the strike just centimeters from his nose.
Almost simultaneously, Aeridar twisted his body, using Paradi's own momentum against him—he flipped him over in midair and slammed him straight down toward the floor.
Whoosh—!
"Damn it—!!"
Paradi didn't even have time to react.
In that instant, Aeridar had already hurled him down with overwhelming force, creating a blast of wind strong enough to scatter dust, splinters, and debris before he even hit the ground.
Down below, the giant black shape that had fallen earlier suddenly sensed danger overhead.
He opened his eyes—and nearly coughed up blood at the sight.
"You bastard...! You're using him as a projectile?!"
Despite his injuries, he immediately rolled frantically out of the way—forgetting all about dizziness or pain.
If I take a direct hit from that, I'm dead!
BOOM—!
The third deck shook violently again.
Paradi's body smashed halfway into the thick deck, cracks spider-webbing outward in all directions.
Thud—thud—
Aeridar landed lightly, his boots thudding against the shattered deck.
In the dim light, the massive shadow finally rose to its feet—a towering grizzly bear, well over three meters tall.
Blood soaked its shaggy brown fur, the wounds hidden beneath matted tufts, but obvious from the slick stains.
It was none other than Fat Bear—Nisaro Elver.
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