"See?" Rhett's voice was elusive. "Anger has made you lose even your basic judgment. Where is the real me? Where is the point of attack? You can't even be sure I'm standing here. How can someone like you challenge me?"
The space of the Blood Prison Scroll began to twist and change.
He hadn't used this in a while. Couldn't let it get rusty.
What replaced it were blurry but glaring illusions—
Young Barrett, casually knocked away by Rhett, crashing into wreckage. The cycle on the Oro Jackson. Challenging Rhett again and again. Getting toyed with by the blood mist. Getting cut apart by the Black Tide Greatsword. Getting kicked into the sea.
And the thing he most didn't want to admit. When he learned Roger was dying, his first thought wasn't worry for his captain. It was the petty thought that "the man Rhett acknowledges is nothing special."
(That's why Barrett was never mentioned when talking about the Roger Pirates. Because Barrett never saw himself as part of the crew. That's my guess.)
"Shut up!" Barrett roared. His fierce Haki erupted again.
Barrett erupted again and again.
But the illusions were endless. They came with Rhett's voice, constantly digging into his mind.
"You crave acknowledgment? But you can't even face yourself."
"You pursue power? But you only understand mindless destruction."
"Captain Roger saw your potential. But I..." Rhett paused, undisguised contempt in his voice. "Never really acknowledged you. You're just a nuisance. A noisy one that needs to be knocked down once in a while."
These words were vicious. They precisely targeted Barrett's most sensitive spots.
Rhett: I know Barrett too well. Hehehe.
But Douglas Barrett was, after all, Douglas Barrett.
He was the "Devil's Heir" who had crawled out of hellish battlefields. A monster whose spirit hadn't been broken by the endless hell of Impel Down. He was different from Judge. He was a true fighter of the seas.
Someone like Judge, who could be broken by words, wasn't on the same level. In a world driven by willpower, true fighters had strong hearts.
After the initial rage, Barrett's attacks slowed. He breathed heavily. His bloodshot eyes stared at the changing illusions and the shifting Rhett. The madness in his eyes was slowly replaced by extreme coldness and focus.
"Hmph... hmph..." He actually let out a low laugh.
"Illusions? Words? Rhett... are you afraid?"
He looked up. He didn't give up. He tried to lock onto Rhett's real body. "If you really were as dismissive as you act, why use such low tactics? You can't completely break my will with direct force, so you try to dismantle me with words, right?"
Rhett's illusion was silent for a moment. Then it also laughed, but the smile was more complex. "Oh? You're not as stupid as I thought."
The blood mist churned. All the illusions disappeared.
Rhett's real body walked slowly out of the red mist, standing not far in front of Barrett. The mockery and contempt were gone. Replaced by calm, even a hint of serious assessment.
"Barrett," Rhett spoke, his tone serious, "I need to leave for a while."
Barrett frowned. "Leave? Where?"
"You don't need to know." Rhett shook his head. "But while I'm gone, my kingdom, my family, my friends... will lose their strongest protection. This world never lacks fools and ambitious people."
He stared into Barrett's eyes. "Until I come back, can you protect them for me?"
Barrett was stunned for a moment. Then a look of insulted rage appeared on his face. "You want me to be your guard dog?! Rhett, you're asking for death—"
"No," Rhett cut him off. "You're wrong."
He stepped forward. There seemed to be a vortex turning in his blood-red eyes. "I am here now. Everything is calm. No one dares to act. Why? Because I, the 'Mist Lord' Rhett, am here. That's all."
"If I leave, and this foundation remains strong, my family and friends stay safe... That would only prove one thing—" Rhett's voice hammered Barrett's heart. "It proves that the person who replaces me has power and authority not inferior to mine. It proves that you, Douglas Barrett, are enough to replace me."
"But," Rhett's tone suddenly shifted, challenging, "if during my temporary absence, some stray dogs jump out, cause chaos, and hurt the people I care about... Wouldn't that prove that even with me gone, you still can't handle this situation? That you're still... far inferior to me?"
"If you can't even control things when I'm not here, how can you challenge me at my peak?"
Barrett's pupils contracted sharply. His chest heaved.
An open strategy!
Rhett had equated "protection" with "proving power." It precisely targeted Barrett's core obsession. He wanted to prove himself. He wanted acknowledgment. Especially from Rhett.
Briefly.
Rhett: A few words to get a top-tier fighter. I've said it before. I understand Barrett completely.
Barrett suddenly looked up.
"Enough with the provocations, Rhett!" He growled. "I'll watch over your kingdom! I'll let this sea know that even if you're not here, this place is no place for trash!"
"But—" He held up a finger, almost poking Rhett's nose.
But Rhett didn't dodge this time.
"Remember this! When you come back, I'll prove with my power that I've surpassed you! Then, I'll defeat you completely! I'll make you pay for everything you've said today! I won't just protect this place. I'll replace you as the sole Emperor of the seas."
Rhett looked at Barrett. The corners of his mouth twitched up three pixels, then quickly disappeared.
He nodded. His tone was flat. "Okay. I'm waiting."
With that, his figure began to fade, merging into the blood mist.
"Don't disappoint me, Barrett. Come on. Let's go see the old crew."
The last words faded. The Blood Prison Scroll slowly dissipated.
Barrett stood alone.
Protection? Proof?
Hmph. Rhett, just you wait. I'll show you who's stronger.
One down.