"AAAAAH! WHO ARE YOU?!"
The Celestial Dragon's terrified scream shattered the frozen silence.
Sengoku's eyes widened in shock and fury.
At his roar, Kizaru and Aokiji instantly appeared in front of Saint Charlos, placing themselves between him and Saitama.
Compared to the two Admirals, Saitama looked almost insignificant.
His expression did not change.
"Let go." Aokiji spoke quietly.
Cold air poured from his body, dropping the temperature so quickly that it felt as though even the air might freeze.
Frost spread across the small glasses covering his eyes, while his presence felt like an enormous iceberg looming over everyone.
"You'd better let go, young man. Otherwise, things could become dangerous~"
Kizaru raised one finger.
A bright and deadly light gathered at its tip, sharp enough to pierce through almost anything.
"Drop the gun."
Saitama did not even look at either Admiral.
His calm gaze remained fixed on Saint Charlos. The usual empty, almost comical expression had vanished from his face.
He was completely serious.
Kizaru and Aokiji frowned at the same time.
"It seems you don't understand, young man."
Kizaru spoke mildly as the light at his fingertip grew brighter. Against the dark night, it became the most dazzling thing on the sea.
A faint smile appeared on his lips, carrying both helplessness and contempt.
'What an idiot.'
The light erupted from his fingertip and shot through the night like an arrow.
Everyone watched closely.
Whitebeard's expression had already darkened with anger.
This was his territory, and he would never allow the Marines to harm one of his guests aboard his own ship!
Sengoku kept his attention fixed on Whitebeard, ready to attack the moment he moved.
Then something unexpected happened.
Boom!
Kizaru's laser struck the deck and it missed Saitama completely.
Kizaru frowned and quickly searched the area, but Saitama had vanished.
Aokiji's eyes sharpened.
He turned around and found Saitama standing directly behind them.
Cold sweat appeared on Aokiji's forehead.
'When did he get behind us?'
He had not sensed anything at all!
He was a Marine Admiral. Even an Emperor should not have been able to disappear from directly in front of him without leaving the slightest trace.
Yet this unimpressive bald man had done exactly that.
And judging from his expression, it had required no effort.
"That was close. I almost got hit." Saitama spoke with relief, completely unaware that everyone was staring at him.
It was not only Kizaru and Aokiji.
Sengoku, Garp, Whitebeard, and Shanks were all watching him with serious expressions.
"I didn't expect you to dodge that. It seems I underestimated you."
Kizaru's careless expression disappeared.
When he looked at Saitama again, his gaze had become cautious.
Inside, however, he was deeply shaken.
He could not sense the slightest sign of strength from Saitama.
Then how had he done it?
"I don't want to fight you. Move aside."
Saitama waved one hand with mild annoyance.
Kizaru and Aokiji exchanged a glance, each seeing the concern in the other's eyes.
Neither answered.
Their bodies simply became more tense.
Saitama's other hand was still holding Saint Charlos by the wrist.
The Celestial Dragon's face had twisted with rage. He continued screaming for Sengoku to save him while throwing out one curse after another.
"Hey, stop yelling and let go of the gun."
Saitama's voice became impatient.
Saint Charlos flinched.
A large bubble of mucus burst from his nose, making him look even more disgusting, but his anger did not lessen.
"You filthy slave! Release me immediately! How dare you touch a great Celestial Dragon?! Damn you! Sengoku! Hurry over here and kill him!"
Saint Charlos remained completely lost in the privileges of his position.
He did not notice the tense atmosphere around him at all.
The hand Saitama held still gripped the gun.
When Saint Charlos noticed the wounded girl lying nearby, a crazed smile appeared on his face.
"You want to save her? Then I'll kill this filthy insect right now! Heeheehee! Ahahahahaha!"
Saitama lowered his gaze.
The movement made his expression even more serious.
"You really won't accept a chance when someone gives you one."
His voice remained calm.
Suddenly, Saint Charlos felt terrified.
Why could he not pull the trigger?
He looked down at the hand holding the gun.
The finger that had been resting on the trigger was twisted and broken, bent like a knotted piece of rope.
Only then did the pain reach him.
Saint Charlos screamed wildly as tears and mucus poured from his face.
Saitama released his wrist and took the handgun from him. With one casual squeeze, he crushed it into a twisted lump of metal.
He looked at Saint Charlos and shook his head.
"If you'd let go earlier, this wouldn't have happened."
Saitama bent down to pick up the girl lying on the deck.
Her body was covered in blood, and only the faint rise and fall of her chest showed that she was still alive.
At that moment, a powerful fist came crashing toward him.
The force behind it roared through the air.
Boom!
A deafening impact shook the entire ship.
Wooden planks shattered, and a thick cloud of dust burst across the deck.
When the smoke slowly cleared, Sengoku stood in the center of a huge hole.
His face was as hard as steel, and his gaze remained fixed on Saitama.
A short distance away, Saitama held the wounded girl in his arms and watched him with relief.
"That was close. I almost got hit again."
He smiled.
Sengoku slowly released a breath.
Although his expression remained calm, every warning instinct in his mind was screaming.
He had begun taking Saitama seriously the moment the man slipped past both Admirals without being noticed.
That was why he had not charged forward the instant Saint Charlos called for help.
He had been waiting for the best opportunity to attack.
A moment ago, he had struck when Saitama appeared most vulnerable.
Yet Saitama still avoided him.
Worse, Sengoku had not seen him move.
He immediately placed Saitama at the same threat level as an Emperor.
Based on the speed he had already shown, that judgment was completely reasonable.
What Sengoku feared now was that Saitama's other abilities might be just as terrifying.
Especially his strength.
If his strength matched his speed, then the Marines had truly made an enemy they could not afford to face.
Sengoku glanced toward Saint Charlos, who lay on the deck crying.
Anger rose inside him.
If not for this worthless fool, would they have been forced into conflict with someone so dangerous?
"AAAAAH! IT HURTS! MY FINGER! DAMN IT! DAMN IT! YOU FILTHY SLAVE! SENGOKU! KILL HIM RIGHT NOW!"
Saint Charlos pointed at Saitama and continued screaming.
Veins bulged across Sengoku's forehead.
At that moment, he genuinely wanted to curse him.
But he could not.
"Garp! Help me!" Sengoku shouted behind him.
A Celestial Dragon had suffered a broken finger while Sengoku stood nearby. He had no choice but to provide some kind of answer.
Otherwise, the consequences would become far worse.
They had to make every possible effort to capture Saitama.
Since Sengoku could not follow his speed, he decided to rely on Garp.
Garp was the greatest hand-to-hand fighter in the Marines and stood at the very peak of their strength.
Sengoku still trusted him.
Garp looked deeply annoyed.
In the end, he spat over the side and came to stand beside Sengoku.
No matter how much he despised the Celestial Dragons, he still had to step forward.
The four strongest active fighters in the Marines gathered together.
Sengoku.
Garp.
Aokiji.
Kizaru.
All four faced a single enemy.
Saitama.
Yet Saitama remained completely calm.
He even looked slightly distracted, as though he did not take any of them seriously.
The people aboard the Moby Dick wanted to go help him, but Ainz and the others stopped them.
Ainz understood Saitama's true strength better than most.
Sending anyone else over would only get in his way.
For now, they only needed to watch.
The atmosphere became heavier.
Moonlight spread across the sea like frost.
For a moment, even the ocean seemed to fall silent, with the waves and voices disappearing beneath the pressure.
Then Hatsune's voice broke through it.
"There's someone hanging up there..."
She covered her mouth and pointed toward the mast of the Celestial Dragon's ship.
Everyone followed her finger.
Their expressions changed the moment they saw what was there.
A young woman had been tied to the mast.
Her hair hung loose and tangled, her clothes were torn, and blood covered her body. Both legs dangled uselessly beneath her.
They were clearly broken.
Saitama disappeared.
Sengoku and the other three immediately looked upward.
Saitama was already moving toward the mast.
Aokiji and Kizaru vanished from the deck and rushed into the air after him.
Ice and light erupted together.
"Ice Block: Pheasant Beak!"
"Yasakani Sacred Jewel!"
Both were wide-range attacks, chosen specifically to stop Saitama from escaping again.
Countless beams of light reflected across the rushing ice, scattering blinding brightness in every direction.
In an instant, overwhelming force swallowed Saitama completely.
This time, he did not dodge.
He wrapped both arms around something and allowed every attack to strike his back.
After releasing their techniques, Aokiji and Kizaru landed on the deck with serious expressions.
"Did we get him?"
"It should've hit."
Then the smoke began to clear.
Saitama appeared before everyone once again.
The back of his suit had been torn open, revealing the firm muscles underneath.
Apart from that, there was not a single mark on him.
Everyone stared in shock.
Saitama stood with his back toward Sengoku and the others.
A young woman rested in his arms.
Her breathing was barely noticeable.
One of her ears had been destroyed by a bullet, and dried blood had tangled her hair into stiff clumps.
She must once have been very beautiful.
Her skin was pale, but even with her eyes closed, her features remained delicate. Her lips had turned white from blood loss, though they had probably once been soft and rosy.
Saitama held her with extraordinary care.
Awkward worry appeared on his face.
"Hey, wake up. Can you hear me?"
He called out to her, but she did not respond.
Watching from the Moby Dick, Whitebeard sighed.
"It's no use. She's already dying. There's no saving her."
He spoke quietly.
Whitebeard had seen far too many deaths and knew what someone looked like at the end of their life.
Saitama continued calling to her.
Finally, after several attempts, the young woman barely managed to open her eyes.
Her blurred vision slowly focused on the bald man holding her.
Using the last of her strength, she whispered a desperate request.
"Please... save me..."
After those words left her lips, her eyes closed again.
At the final moment of her life, she tried to grab Saitama's cape.
Her fingers only brushed the fabric before falling.
The faint movement of her chest slowly stopped.
Her breathing disappeared.
Saitama fell silent.
His breathing became heavier.
Something frightening was gathering inside him.
Behind Sengoku, Saint Charlos began to giggle.
He looked at the dead girl with a mocking expression, his eyes filled with arrogance and satisfaction.
"Heeheehee! Hahahahaha! She died much faster than I expected. I thought she might last until we reached the Sabaody Archipelago. What a useless slave."
"But I suppose it couldn't be helped. She dared to defy a great Celestial Dragon, after all! Heeheehee! Hahahahaha!"
As Saint Charlos's laughter spread across the night, Saitama gently placed the girl's body on the deck and stood.
His expression had become unbearably heavy.
The eyes that had remained calm until now finally changed.
Anger burned within them.
His fists tightened, his breathing deepened, and a terrifying pressure began spreading from his body.
Everyone present, even Yuuka and the others, felt a deadly threat beneath it.
It was as though their lives had suddenly been placed into someone else's hands.
Genos, who had been watching from the side, became tense.
"Sensei is angry..."
The girl's final request had truly enraged Saitama!
Standing directly in front of him, Sengoku, Garp, Aokiji, and Kizaru were covered in cold sweat.
None of them had ever felt pressure like this before.
Whitebeard?
Shanks?
Kaido?
Big Mom?
None of them compared.
The threat brought by the Four Emperors felt insignificant beside what they were experiencing now.
All four men reached the same conclusion at once.
'We'll die.'
'We will absolutely die.'
Saitama turned around and calmly looked at the four men standing in his way.
"Are you going to stop me?"
His gaze moved from Sengoku to Garp, then to Aokiji and Kizaru.
Sengoku clenched his teeth and tried to answer, but his throat felt as though an invisible hand had closed around it.
No words came out.
He wanted to move, only to discover that his legs refused to obey him.
The survival instincts buried deep within his body were preventing him from acting.
Just as an antelope fled from a lion without needing to be taught, Sengoku's body was trying to avoid Saitama.
The other three were no different.
The Marines' four strongest fighters remained completely still.
Saitama walked forward one step at a time.
He passed between Aokiji and Kizaru, then continued past Sengoku and Garp.
None of them moved.
At last, he stopped in front of Saint Charlos.
The Celestial Dragon had already soiled himself and fainted from fear. He lay on the deck like a dead dog.
Saitama had no intention of letting the matter end there.
He clenched one fist.
"Serious Series: Serious Punch."
His voice was calm.
Then he punched.
Sengoku finally broke free from the fear controlling his body and tried to stop him.
It was already too late.
Boom!
The sound was like thunder tearing the sky apart.
An enormous shock wave erupted from Saitama's fist and raced toward the distant horizon.
The clouds above split apart beneath the remaining force.
The black sea opened under the punch, dividing like water before Moses.
Countless Sea Kings were torn apart, their flesh and blood dyeing the ocean dark red.
The force continued for thousands of miles, stretching so far that no one could see where it ended.
The sea remained split for a long time, while enormous waves rose on either side like monsters emerging from the depths.
Whitebeard's earlier punch could not compare.
His attack had stirred the sea into a violent whirlpool.
Saitama's punch had truly divided the ocean.
Even the sea itself could not resist him.
Saint Charlos's body had been reduced to particles too small to recognize!
The only proof that he had ever existed was the blood scattered across Saitama's clothes.
Sengoku had lost his voice.
At that moment, even the death of a Celestial Dragon seemed unimportant.
"Y-you... Who are you...?"
For the first time, Sengoku was frightened enough to stammer.
Saitama calmly turned toward him.
"My name is Saitama. I'm just a hero for fun."
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