Even if he'd brought the Super Green Blood Potion, what good would it do?
Confronted with this terrifying situation—trapped by two and a half Yonko—he felt a despair unlike any he'd known before.
Whitebeard, the veteran Yonko who'd roamed the seas for years with his formidable reputation, refused to engage him directly. Instead, he exploited the astonishing speed granted by the Thunder-Thunder Fruit to harass him.
Every flash of lightning set Saint Saturn's nerves on edge, yet he couldn't pin down Whitebeard's exact location.
The feeling of being toyed with drove him to the brink of madness.
And Big Mom—another seasoned Yonko who'd long held sway over the seas—filled Saint Saturn with pure loathing.
Relying on her monstrous defenses, she tanked his attacks head-on, disregarding any potential harm to her body.
Her true objective was to collect his blood!
The humiliation of being treated as a "mobile blood bank" pierced his heart like countless sharp needles, tormenting him more than death itself.
"These lunatics…"
Saint Saturn's spider legs flailed, moving with cyclonic speed. Each swipe kicked up clouds of dust, as if he could vent his rage through these motions.
In this critical moment, he pressed the hidden emergency Den Den Mushi on his wrist, his voice hoarse and distorted with fury: "Borsalino!!!"
The voice carried a desperate urgency, pleading for help!
...
Meanwhile,
On the other side of the island, in a tranquil corner, Kizaru sat, savoring the fragrant tea in his hand.
His carefree demeanor made it seem as though the chaos of the battlefield had nothing to do with him.
However, at that moment, his brow furrowed, and his relaxed expression turned grave.
He pulled out the "Buru Buru" ringing Den Den Mushi from his pocket, held it to his ear, and listened to the urgent call coming from the other end.
After hearing it, he let out an exaggerated sigh: "Ara ara~ Looks like I have to work overtime again~"
Though his tone carried a hint of resignation, there wasn't a trace of hesitation in it.
Even as he spoke, Kizaru's body had sprung into action.
In a flash, he transformed into a dazzling beam of golden light, shooting skyward with a speed that left onlookers astounded.
"Yata no Kagami" refracted brilliant rays of light in the air, his figure darting through the radiance at an astonishing pace.
It seemed as though, for a moment, time itself had frozen in the face of his speed.
"What a bother~" Kizaru adjusted his signature sunglasses, his gaze fixed into the distance.
There, Saint Saturn was fleeing in disarray, pursued by three Yonko, the chase unfolding like a life-or-death race.
"But... I still have to get my paycheck~"
Kizaru murmured, and then his figure appeared directly in Whitebeard's path.
With his hands crossed, he uttered a low chant: "Yasakani no Magatama!"
In an instant, countless light bullets poured down like a torrential downpour!
Under the intense glare of the powerful light, the entire space was illuminated.
These light bullets, like deadly meteors, hurtled toward Whitebeard, halting his pursuit.
"Borsalino?" Whitebeard was forced to stop, his Cloud-Cutting Blade held horizontally before him, his expression unchanged. "Are you sure you want to stand in my way?"
Kizaru shrugged, a wry smile spreading across his face. "Can't be helped~ It's part of the job, after all~"
The smile was filled with a mocking amusement at the complicated situation before him.
This time, it seemed impossible to escape without paying a heavy price!
"Stop them!"
Saint Saturn issued a stern command before scrambling toward what he believed to be a safe distance.
Only after reaching what he deemed a secure spot did he slow his pace and halt his escape.
Then, he turned back, his eyes burning with a mix of fury, resentment, and a barely perceptible trace of fear, glaring at the battlefield he'd just fled.
His gaze seemed intent on etching everything he saw deep into his memory, carving it as an indelible scar.
The humiliation he'd suffered today was like a sharp dagger, stabbing painfully into his pride and dignity—something he could never forget.
"What terrible luck!"
In this heart-pounding battle on Onigashima, the World Government had initially believed that with their authority and power, they could control the situation and crush all opposition.
Yet reality had struck them like a resounding slap in the face.
For this operation, the World Government had gone to great lengths but gained little advantage.
Still, upon closer reflection, they hadn't come away empty-handed.
They'd managed to secure King, the Lunarian, which, in a way, could be considered a gain—at least ensuring their operation didn't devolve into a farce with nothing to show for it.
Even so, As one of the Five Elders, his usual lofty and imposing demeanor had vanished, leaving only the wretched state of a desperate escape.
More critically, he'd lost a significant amount of precious blood samples. From any perspective, this seemed like an unfavorable deal.
And the root of it all could be attributed to that young man named Ron.
This seemingly unremarkable youth, whom they might have overlooked, had orchestrated events in an unimaginable way. Like a master chess player hidden in the shadows, he maneuvered every piece on the board, leading the World Government into the trap he'd laid.
At this moment, Saint Saturn was huddled within the cramped, suffocating confines of the submarine's cabin.
His eight spider-like legs, reminiscent of demonic tentacles, trembled from the blazing fury burning deep within him.
Each quiver conveyed his resentment and indignation.
He then dispelled his Devil Fruit ability, reverting to his original form.
The cabin was filled with a stifling and oppressive atmosphere. The dim, flickering light cast shifting shadows across the small space, illuminating his twisted, aged face.
The wrinkles on his face seemed deeper, each crease harboring resentment and malice.
The light cast a sinister, terrifying shadow over his features, making him appear more like a demon clawing its way out from the depths of hell.
In the silent, oppressive cabin, Saint Saturn's thoughts were a tangled mess, yet they clarified as he sorted and pieced them together.
It finally dawned on him—that cunning old fox Whitebeard had been stalling his fight with Kaido!