The thought exploded in Nezumi's mind, every hair on his body standing on end.
The arm gripping his pistol shook so violently it seemed unable to bear the cold weight of the metal.
Clang.
The pistol slipped from his nerveless fingers, hitting the deck with a sharp clatter that the surrounding, deathly silence made almost deafening.
Nezumi stumbled back several paces, only steadying himself when his back slammed into a Marine's chest.
Every muscle in his rat-like face twitched uncontrollably.
Trying to bolster his courage with his rank, he shrieked, all bluster and no bite, "I-I'm a Captain of Marine Branch 16! Lay a hand on the Marines and you're declaring war on the entire World Government! Headquarters will never let you walk away!"
He prayed this colossal backing would lend him a shred of safety, that it would scare the monster off.
Ryoma stood at the prow of his skiff, watching the disgraceful display aboard the Warship, not even stirred to anger.
He found the man's logic bizarre—still imagining that pulling strings would help at a time like this?
Did he think the World Government was his private club, ready to mobilize for a small fry like him?
Utterly hopeless fool.
Ryoma couldn't be bothered wasting words. He simply lifted his foot and stepped over the skiff's gunwale.
Toward the Warship, he took his first step into empty air.
Crack—crack—crack!
With each footfall, moisture in the air condensed instantly. Translucent ice crystals materialized beneath him, stacking into a solid stairway that climbed steadily to the lip of the Marines' deck.
Ryoma strode up the crystalline steps unhurriedly, one at a time.
He walked steadily, every crisp footfall striking the hearts of the Marines like a hammer.
The sailors on deck raised their rifles reflexively, black muzzles tracking the ascending figure, yet no finger dared brush a trigger.
Open fire?
Fire on a monster who could freeze an ocean in an instant?
Who would dare?
Who would even want to?
They retreated step by instinctive step. Every time Ryoma rose another stair, they shuffled back, boots scraping the deck, formation long since broken.
Nezumi was scared out of his wits. He seized the nearest Marine and shoved the young seaman forward as a human shield. Cowering behind, he peeked out with only those darting rat-eyes showing.
The instant Ryoma's foot touched the Warship's deck, a thin film of frost spread silently outward from the spot. Wherever it passed, puddles flash-froze and the very air turned colder.
The Marines backed away again and again, terrified their boots might brush that eerie frost. No one dared gamble on what would happen if living flesh met that strange ice.
Ryoma steadied himself, swept his gaze over the terrified faces, and finally settled on the cringing figure hiding behind a wall of men.
He smiled—a grin thick with undisguised mockery.
"How amusing, Captain."
"Weren't you the one who warmly invited me aboard? Why hide now?"
Ryoma's taunt made Nezumi shudder. From behind the young Marine, he screamed hysterically, "What are you all waiting for? Fire! Every last one of you—kill him! That's an order!"
He punched and kicked the sailor in front, trying to drive his men to their deaths to buy himself a single moment to flee.
Yet not a man obeyed.
The surrounding Marines stared at him with a mix of fear, anger and contempt. No one heeded an officer who had forfeited all loyalty.
Even the seaman being used as a shield clenched his teeth and refused to advance despite the blows.
Fire on a monster who could freeze oceans in a heartbeat? Might as well commit suicide!
Many of the Marines inwardly cursed the Captain who had picked this fight.
"Worthless! The lot of you—worthless!"
Seeing his threats fail, Nezumi realized his subordinates were a lost cause.
Carefully he edged out from behind the sailor. The savagery on his face melted into a smile uglier than a grimace, voice dripping with fawning pleas.
"Misunderstanding… my lord, this is all a misunderstanding. I failed to recognize your eminence, I was blind. A man of your stature must be magnanimous. I'll scram right now—roll away this instant."
Nezumi looked ready to fall to his knees on the spot.
Watching the performance, Ryoma felt he was observing an outright idiot.
From the moment he had deliberately avoided their sea-lane only to be forcibly intercepted.
From Nezumi's greedy hints to his shameful rage after being refused
And now, after Ryoma displayed absolute power, the fool still imagined Ryoma would spare a shameless, would-be killer who remained a latent threat?
He actually clung to the childish hope he might walk away alive?
"I don't have the habit of letting tigers return to the mountains." Ryoma stated the fact flatly.
The words shattered the last of Nezumi's delusions.
Pleading was useless!
Extreme fear birthed final madness. He shoved the Marine aside, snatched the man's rifle and fired wildly at Ryoma.
Bang!
The bullet had barely left the muzzle when layers of ice appeared mid-air, encasing it in a glittering crystal and robbing it of all momentum, it clinked harmlessly to the deck.
At the same instant, Nezumi's other hand pulled a black sphere from his coat, poised to hurl it. His arm rose, the sphere not yet released, when a biting chill surged from his soles through every vein.
Crack!
Nezumi, complete with his frantic, twisted expression, was frozen into an ice sculpture in an instant. Fine cracks then crawled across the surface of the statue.
Boom!
With a muffled burst, the entire ice statue disintegrated into countless glittering shards that the sea breeze scattered like diamond dust.
Every Marine on deck froze, trembling as they leveled their rifles again at the demonic man—it was the only gesture that still offered a shred of comfort.
Ryoma swept his gaze over them.
Crack—crack—crack!
In unison, their rifles were sheathed in frost, then shattered into clouds of ice. The biting cold grazed their fingertips yet left them unharmed.
Deprived of weapons, the Marines slumped to the deck, all will to resist gone.
Ignoring them, Ryoma hunted down every Den Den Mushi aboard the Warship and methodically froze each one, crushing them to powder.
When that was done, he returned to the deck and stretched out a hand, gripping empty air above the vessel.
Screech—
The steel hull began to twist and snap with a teeth-aching shriek as ice crystals erupted from within, shattering keels, bulkheads and mighty gun turrets alike.
Only a huge, largely intact wooden main-deck was left, drifting amid the ice.
Finished, Ryoma vaulted lightly back to his skiff.
He snapped his fingers.
Centered on his boat, the frozen ring of sea began to thaw, turning back into sapphire water.
He cast off the line, trimmed the sail, and the skiff caught the wind, gliding away from the shattered icy waste.
All that remained was the vast wooden deck and the few dozen Marines shivering in the cold—adrift on an endless field of broken ice.
(End of Chapter)
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