The surviving Fish-Man crew, their retreat cut off, were driven into a frenzy by Arlong's roars. With deep-seated contempt for humans and a final thirst for life, they swarmed from every direction in a chaotic, vicious assault, hoping numbers would bury Ryoma.
For a moment, the icefield rang with savage roars and scattered footfalls.
To Ryoma, the attack was no different from moths to a flame. With a single thought, sleek ice vines burst from the smooth surface.
The vines seemed alive, coiling around each charging Fish-Man—binding limbs or skewering feet—pinning them in place.
Next, countless slender ice spikes shot upward from the ice sheet.
Thud... Thud...
The sound of flesh being pierced merged into one and the harbor became a shrieking crystal hell.
Moments ago, they had charged in fury. Now rising ice spears skewered them, blood sliding down the clear crystals, blossoming into vivid red flowers on the white field.Before Hatchan's attack came close, thick ice vines coiled around his six arms, their immense strength halting every slash.
He watched helplessly as his kin were slaughtered, until a massive spike burst from the ice beneath and impaled his chest.
In an instant, every Fish-Man save the caged Arlong was either nailed to the ice and dying or already lifeless.Arlong stared at the hellish scene, at his crew wiped out in moments, his mad howls ebbing into venomous silence.
"Vile… vile devil fruit user."
He spat each word through blood.
"Without that accursed Devil Fruit, you're nothing. Lowly humans, resorting only to tricks."
Bloodshot eyes locked onto Ryoma, and under the crushing weight of imminent doom, two lines of tears slid down his twisted face.
Ryoma walked slowly to the front of his ice prison and looked down at him.
"Your tears are for the power and empire you've lost, not for these dead compatriots of yours."
Ryoma's icy words pierced through Arlong's final pretense.
"You used racial hatred to cloak your cruelty, used the history of victims to play the role of aggressors, plundering and slaughtering lives weaker than your own."
"Now that death is at hand, you start complaining your opponent is too strong and too underhanded?" His voice carried open mockery.
"Truly... sickening."
Ryoma said no more.
The ice cage trapping Arlong contracted violently as countless sharp ice spikes sprouted from within.
At the same time the ice cones skewering the other fish-men began to split, countless thinner spikes churning and tearing inside their bodies.
Miserable screams echoed through the harbor, then cut short with a hair-raising crackle of shattering ice.
Only when the fish-men were about to be frozen and ground into drifting ice dust did Ryoma belatedly slap his forehead.
"Crap!"
He hastily cut off his mana. The erupting ice spikes froze mid-bloom, but most of the fish-men still couldn't escape their fate. Their bodies were shredded by the delicate ice crystals growing inside them, blood and viscera instantly frozen into glittering fragments.
"Damn it! The bounties!"
A frustrated curse slipped from Ryoma's mouth, shattering the aloof-strongman aura he'd maintained.
Looking at the mangled trophies he'd created, his face showed heartache for the first time.
All this was money!
How had he forgotten?
Carried away by the fight, he'd nearly pulverized every Berry.
Ryoma quickly dispelled his mana. The gleaming ice vines and cones melted away, leaving only rows of stiff fish-man corpses.
He hurried forward to pick through the bodies.
"No good. Face is ruined, the Marines won't recognize him."
"This one's missing half. Who knows how the bounty will be calculated?"
"Tch, this one's worse—turned into a candied-haw stick."
He muttered complaints while inspecting them.
Finally his gaze landed on the octopus fish-man Hatchan, impaled through the chest but with an intact upper body.
"Not bad, the head's fine."
With a flick of his finger, a thin ice blade silently severed Hatchan's simple head, which floated up encased in a thin layer of ice.
After that, he recalled the two officers he'd instantly killed earlier.
"Damn, that water-sprayer and that karate guy..."
He remembered: two ice spears he'd casually summoned had pierced them, turning them into bloody ice confetti. Not even a scrap of skin had survived.
"Chew and Kuroobi together were worth over ten million Berries, right?" Ryoma clicked his tongue in distress,
"What a loss—an utter bloodbath."
Calculating his losses with a grimace, he walked toward the thorny ice cage imprisoning Arlong.
Inside, Arlong was drenched in blood, countless ice thorns skewering his limbs and torso, yet he clung to his last breath.
His eyes fixed on Ryoma. He tried to curse but could only cough up mouthfuls of bloody foam.
Ryoma couldn't be bothered to listen, he merely regarded Arlong's still-intact face with some regret.
"Twenty million Berries... At least I didn't turn you into mincemeat."
Muttering to himself, he waved lightly at the ice cage.
The thorns forming the cage dissolved.
Arlong's broken body collapsed onto the ice, then a cold gleam flashed.
Arlong's huge saw-shark head soared skyward, his face forever frozen in ultimate hatred and unwillingness.
Fresh ice promptly wrapped the head, suspending it beside Hatchan's.
Ryoma admired his biggest haul of the day—over twenty million Berries, the effort hadn't been wasted.
He turned to survey the frozen hell he'd created and the fish-men locked in twisted poses, rubbing his temples in annoyance.
"Great. I made a huge mess and I have to clean it up myself."
He didn't want the Marines knocking tomorrow about an unprecedented glacier in the East Blue. He wasn't afraid, but it would be a pain.
A lazy man at heart, he preferred to nip any potential trouble in the bud.
Ryoma raised a hand toward the vast ice field. As his mana flowed, the jagged glacier stretching to the horizon melted rapidly. The hard ice turned into pure water, carrying frozen blood, scraps, and debris with a splash back into the sea.
The frozen pirate ship Shark Superb also floated again as the ice vanished.
Within minutes the harbor looked untouched, only a faint metallic tang lingering in the air.
Every trace of battle, every evidence of the fish-men's presence—apart from the lone pirate ship—had been washed away.
"Done."
Clapping his hands, he caused the two suspended heads to drift before him, strung together with a simple ice cord, bobbing grotesquely.
He stepped onto the Shark Superb's deck to loot. The Arlong Pirates must have some savings.
Kicking open the captain's cabin door, he found only empty chests and ledgers strewn across the floor.
He could almost see Arlong's wild grin.
"Shahahaha! Money is my best friend! Every Berry will expand my empire!"
He flipped a few ledgers filled with records of plunder since Arlong had entered the East Blue.
"What a thorough bastard."
Not even saving some pocket money—an incompetent villain.
With nothing left to gain, he returned to the rail, gazing at the calm sea below while planning his next move.
"Next stop—cash in the bounties."
Recalling the plot, the nearest Marines base should be the 16th Branch run by Captain Nezumi.
Just thinking of that greedy, cowardly fool made Ryoma feel a headache coming. He could already picture the man's avaricious drool at the sight of Arlong's head.