With a sharp snap, Davy Jones closed the lid of his black compass and tucked it back into his dark cloak.
The single remaining raven on his shoulder croaked a few times, then fell silent, tilting its head to stare coldly at the pirates before it.
Davy Jones spoke bluntly to the four "Supernovas":
"You have two choices. Either surrender your souls to me and swear allegiance… or die here."
He didn't like to beat around the bush. He always stated his terms clearly — though that rarely made anyone feel better about them.
"I don't make boring choices."
Kidd raised both arms, and at once, a loud clatter echoed from his ship. A torrent of metal objects — iron scraps, tools, spare parts — surged toward him.
He always kept piles of metal aboard, precisely so he could unleash his Paramecia-type Magnet-Magnet Fruit powers at any time.
The metal flowed up into the air like a rising tide, then cascaded down like a waterfall, covering his outstretched arms.
In the blink of an eye, the metallic torrent had fused into two massive mechanical arms, the friction between the assembled pieces grating and crackling with a harsh ka-cha, ka-cha.
Kidd shouted across the deck:
"My 315 million bounty against your 1.45 billion — let's see if that difference is really worth it!"
Seeing Kidd ready for battle, Killer knew negotiations were over. With a sigh, he drew his twin crescent scythes — the Punisher Blades — and moved to support Kidd.
Both stood poised for combat, and Davy Jones saw it clearly.
"I take it your choice is made, then."
Davy Jones turned his gaze to Hawkins and Drake, his gray-blue eyes steady and cold.
"What about you two? The same choice?"
Drake instinctively lowered his head under that piercing gaze.
A wave of shame swept over him — shame at his own hesitation. He forced himself to think clearly, weighing Davy Jones's offer.
Truth be told, Drake didn't particularly object to the idea of surrendering to a pirate crew.
After all, he wasn't here to compete for the title of "Pirate King" or "Emperor of the Sea." He had no such ambitions. He was here on assignment — to fulfill a mission from Marine Headquarters.
He was known as the "Red Flag," but also as the "Fallen Rear Admiral." The story circulated among pirates was that he had defected from the Marines — a stain he'd deliberately created for his cover.
Even with Marine Headquarters' cooperation, that cover hadn't won much trust from other pirates. His past as a Marine was simply too conspicuous.
Now, perhaps, it was time to stain his name once more.
Siding with Davy Jones here could serve him well:
He could gather intel and secretly report to the Marines, while also strengthening his pirate façade.
If all went well, he might even provoke conflict between Davy Jones and one of the Four Emperors — allowing the Marines to benefit from the chaos, or at least gain some breathing room.
The "New World" was on edge, and Marine Headquarters' movements were severely limited. The only Admiral dispatched so far had been Kizaru Borsalino — proof enough that the Marines were stretched dangerously thin.
Still… I can't act too eager.
Drake lowered the brim of his hat, fingers brushing the hilts of his sword and axe.
He told himself: After all, I used to be a Rear Admiral. If I don't at least pretend to resist, I'll only make them suspect I'm still a Marine spy.
So — a brief scuffle, just enough to sell the act. Vice Admiral Tsuru's warning was clear — Davy Jones is dangerous. I can't throw my life away needlessly.
Drake was about to declare his stance — to side with Kidd and Killer — when Hawkins suddenly stepped forward.
Huh? What's this fortune-teller up to now?
"I trust my divination," Hawkins said in his usual cryptic tone. "And I trust it to guide me to the correct path."
Then, to everyone's shock, he did something completely unexpected.
Hawkins dropped to one knee before Davy Jones.
"Captain Davy Jones," he said solemnly, "I am willing to serve you — and offer you my soul."
"What?!"
Kidd, Killer, and Drake were all taken aback. Just minutes ago, they'd been discussing a pirate alliance — and now, within moments, Hawkins had betrayed them outright.
The once "unbreakable" alliance shattered instantly.
Davy Jones himself looked mildly surprised at the abrupt surrender. He paused, then said:
"Very well. You and your crew — stand aside for now. I wouldn't want to harm you by mistake."
"Yes, Captain." Hawkins rose calmly and strode past the others toward his ship, his expression utterly composed — no shame, no hesitation. Clearly, this was a decision he'd made long ago.
So he surrendered just like that? Drake was stunned. You can do that?!
If Marine Headquarters didn't already lack intel on Hawkins, Drake might've suspected he was the real undercover agent sent to infiltrate Davy Jones's crew.
Even I didn't fold that fast!
But remembering Hawkins's erratic, almost deranged nature, Drake conceded — a mad "magician" and "diviner" doesn't think like normal men.
Kidd spat on the ground and scoffed:
"Cowards, the lot of you. I told you, being lumped together with them as 'Supernovas' is our greatest shame."
Drake shot him a glance — irritated that he'd just been insulted without even saying a word.
If it weren't for the looming battle, he'd have drawn steel and fought Kidd right then and there — just to prove he was a real pirate too.
Without turning back, Hawkins replied coolly:
"My divination shows zero chance of victory. To resist is to invite injury and death. Of all possible outcomes, I simply chose the safest path."
Kidd sneered:
"Such noble words. You'd sound more convincing if you weren't running away."
Hawkins stopped, turned, and met Kidd's glare with an icy calm.
"Then take this as a warning — Captain Davy Jones is not Kizaru Borsalino. He will not show mercy. None of you will escape."
Kidd smirked.
"And here's my warning, Hawkins — after I kill Davy Jones, you're next."
Hawkins only shook his head, said nothing more, and walked away.
Watching them, Drake felt oddly out of place — too serious, too proper. He just didn't have their kind of pirate flair.
Still, he stuck to his original plan. Better to act on instinct than overthink. Less chance of slipping up that way.
He stepped toward Kidd and Killer.
"For now," Drake said, "let's form a temporary alliance."
It was a pragmatic suggestion. Killer nodded, then glanced at Kidd.
Kidd glared at Drake, grunted, and said coldly:
"Just don't slow me down."
Then, with a roar, he slammed his mechanical arms down, propelling himself high into the air.
Suspended for an impossibly long moment, a savage grin spread across his face. The two massive metal arms clapped together with crushing force, slamming down on Davy Jones between them.
BOOM!
Metal fragments scattered and clattered to the ground — but Kidd's grin quickly vanished. He felt nothing between his palms. He pried the giant hands apart — empty.
Damn it! Where did he go?!
"Kidd!" Killer shouted, leaping up to guard his captain. His scythes gleamed as he intercepted an attack from behind.
Davy Jones had appeared behind Kidd in an instant, drawing his black trident and thrusting it forward like lightning.
Killer crossed his scythes to block — but the strength behind that trident was beyond anything he'd ever felt.
Crack! His weapons shattered. Behind his mask, his eyes widened as the trident pierced straight into his abdomen.
Can't block it — not even close!
Kidd, perfectly in sync with his partner, understood at once. He turned, horrified — only to see Davy Jones's weapon buried in Killer's body.
Blood was nothing new to Kidd, but seeing his closest comrade impaled before him sent a blinding rage through his mind.
"AAAAAHHH—!"
Kidd roared, swinging his massive metal fist at Davy Jones with all his fury.
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