Only when the red carpet in the corridor was replaced with high-grade velvet did Saint Shangong consent to step down from his slave's back.
He was a male Celestial Dragon, clad in a white robe adorned with lavish patterns, his golden hair styled into a towering shape beneath the glass helmet, with fishtail curls at the ends.
Surrounded by four expressionless CP members in black suits, he looked disdainfully at the bowing King Riku.
"As a king, it took you this long to procure something barely suitable for me to step on—utterly incompetent!"
King Riku bowed deeply. As the ruler of a World Government Member Nation, he wasn't required to kneel before Celestial Dragons, but the vast gap in status compelled him to show reverence through this gesture.
Cold sweat dripped from his forehead as he nervously replied, "My apologies, Saint Shangong. Your arrival was too sudden, and we weren't prepared..."
"Hmm?!"
The voice, filtered through the bubble helmet, carried innate arrogance: "Are you saying it's my fault?!"
"N-No... I wouldn't dare..."
Of course, it's your fault...
Damn it, why would a Celestial Dragon come to Dressrosa!
Unlike the nobles of the Goa Kingdom who eagerly sought connections with Celestial Dragons, King Riku had no desire to see these celestial parasites.
The annual Celestial Tribute was an enormous sum. If not for his capable governance and Dressrosa's relative prosperity, this financial burden would have driven countless people to seek livelihoods at sea.
While many Pirates were indeed wicked, a significant portion of them had been forced into piracy by oppressive taxation.
...
Upon reaching the highest spectator platform, Saint Shangong scanned the crowded arena and the gladiators battling at its center.
His gaze treated them like ants, a contemptuous smirk curling his lips.
"Lowly combat games—how utterly boring."
"Hey, King Riku! Have your strongest fighters enter the arena. When only one remains alive, I'll grant him the honor of kneeling before me!"
King Riku's face paled as he hurriedly waved his hands. "But this is only the first day of the tournament! And the coliseum's rules forbid intentional killing!"
"Oh—"
Saint Shangong drew out the syllable, his voice turning cold. "If you can't even fulfill this small request, it seems we'll need to slightly increase Dressrosa's Celestial Tribute quota."
"This...! How could..."
Just as King Riku found himself in an impossible position, a black-suited man suddenly appeared, kneeling to report: "Saint Shangong, we've found the person. They're in the palace's side wing."
King Riku's expression grew even more troubled. The only guests currently residing in the palace's side wing were those two distinguished visitors!
With a disdainful snort, Saint Shangong lifted his chin. "Did you think I had leisure time to watch your boring competition? What I want are famous swords! Lots and lots of famous swords!"
He made a grasping motion with his hands, revealing a sharp, gleeful smile: "Kishishishishishi... A craftsman who can forge famous swords—I can't believe you managed to find someone like that!"
"I'll be taking this person with me. Your next year's Celestial Tribute can be reduced by... one percent! Kishishishishishi!!"
...
King Riku's expression could no longer be described as merely troubled.
"Saint Shangong! That guest is from Wano Country! How can I explain to the Wano shogun if you take him away! This concerns relations between two nations, you cannot..."
The news of Kaido occupying Wano Country wasn't widely known, generally only Pirates and Marines operating in the New World were aware.
In King Riku's understanding, Wano Country was still ruled by the so-called shogun.
...
"Silence! There's nothing I cannot do!!"
Saint Shangong couldn't be bothered to argue further, drawing the golden pistol from his waist and aiming it at King Riku: "Keep making noise and I'll kill you!"
...
Behind King Riku, the kneeling Kyros tightly gripped his sword hilt.
He had already decided - if that Celestial Dragon dared to shoot at King Riku, he would cut the bullets to pieces.
He fully understood what attacking a Celestial Dragon meant, but he absolutely couldn't watch his benefactor, who was also his wife's father, get injured.
Just then—
A black shadow brushed past Saint Shangong and crashed into the wall.
BAM!!
The loud impact startled Saint Shangong so much he nearly dropped his pistol, staring dumbfounded at his subordinate embedded in the wall.
...
"Celestial Dragon? Does that mean you're some famous figure from the outside world?"
A somewhat flippant voice came through as Kyoshiro dragged a man in black suit from the shadows, the sword resting on his shoulder still dripping blood.
Wearing a cruel, bloodthirsty smile, he stared coldly at Saint Shangong: "You look quite weak. Can someone this weak really be a famous figure?"
Thud—
The unconscious CP member was thrown by Kyoshiro before Saint Shangong, making him retreat repeatedly.
"You... who are you!! How dare you not kneel!!"
Kyoshiro tilted his head, curling the corner of his mouth: "I'm the shogun's personal guard. Sometimes I don't even need to kneel before the shogun~"
"I don't care who you are. Protecting Mr. Kozaburo is my mission. If you want to take him away, come and try! Ah!!"
Saint Shangong had never encountered such a yakuza-style hothead before. When he finally processed what happened, veins of anger bulged on his forehead.
"Lowly surface dweller! How dare you disrespect the noble World Nobles!!"
"Die!!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three consecutive gunshots.
Kyoshiro simply raised his hand, palm covered in black Armament Haki, effortlessly catching all three bullets.
"Hey hey hey... you can't be serious. Do you really expect ordinary bullets like these to harm a samurai who has mastered Ryuo?"
Clink—
The crushed bullets fell to the ground as Kyoshiro pointed his sword at Saint Shangong.
"You attacked first. Even if you're some famous figure, I have the right to retaliate!"
Kyoshiro reversed his grip on the sword hilt, preparing to strike.
...
During his few days in Dressrosa, he had desperately absorbed information about the outside world. How could he not know what the Celestial Dragons represented?
If he harmed a Celestial Dragon, it would inevitably provoke the World Government to attack Wano Country!
Then Kaido's forcible occupation of Wano would become known to the world, and he would have his hands full dealing with that!
Under the alias Kyoshiro while serving the Wano shogun, his true identity was Denjiro, the second-in-command of the Nine Red Scabbards who once followed Kozuki Oden!
He firmly believed in Kozuki Toki's prophecy, convinced that someone would liberate Wano Country twelve years later.
With such a perfect opportunity to weaken Kaido's forces before him, he didn't want to let it slip away!
...
He had underestimated Kaido, and looked down on the World Government.
If this were when Kaido had just occupied Wano Country, he would still be wary of others finding out and competing for territory.
But now...
Could it be that the World Government didn't know Kaido was in Wano Country?
Dozens of batches of agents have been wiped out by the Beasts Pirates!
Simply put, Kaido has become so powerful that the World Government doesn't want to engage in direct confrontation!
...
After making his move, he immediately fled back to Wano Country. As for Kozaburo...
Hmph! This traitor who betrayed the Kozuki family and forged weapons for Kaido—it wouldn't matter if he died here!
Swish—
Moving with his blade, Kyoshiro had already charged in front of Saint Shangong before anyone present could react.
Success!
The smile at the corner of his mouth hadn't even fully formed yet.
Sss—
Kyoshiro sensed something, but his body could no longer react.
Lips, eyelashes, sideburns...
Silently, intricate frost patterns spread faster than breath.
—
Crack—
In an instant, Kyoshiro was completely encased in translucent ice crystals, his horrified expression perfectly preserved.
...
"Can't let you run wild now, Wano Country fellow."
Footsteps crunched on the ice.
Kuzan emerged from around the corner, a slender figure silhouetted against the backlight behind him.
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