The atmosphere inside the treasury froze instantly, and the wide, greedy grin on Drake's face stiffened a bit.
Holy shit!
He had been too reckless. He had gotten so swept up in the thrill of hunting down legendary artifacts and balancing his internal ledgers that he completely blanked on a basic security concept: treasury vaults have guards. When he had approached the physical sector, the exterior corridor was still in complete shambles from his earlier clash, and the heavy doors were completely unmanned. He had mathematically deduced that the sector was in a state of total vulnerability.
But he had vastly underestimated the operational standards of a Yonko. Even during a catastrophic structural breach, an Emperor's personal vault would never be left entirely unguarded.
Sweeping his gaze across the room, Drake's lips slowly curled back into a sharp smirk. The chamber was packed to the brim with personnel, but looking at their statistical variance, they were all low-tier combatants. Nothing more than small fry.
"All of you... flat on the floor," Drake commanded softly, raising a single hand and making a gentle downward pressing motion.
The elite guards, who had been poised to launch a synchronized offensive, suddenly paled. Without a single microsecond of warning, an invisible, crushing weight slammed into their bodies, pinning every single one of them flat against the stone floor.
BOOM!
The floor beneath them fractured violently under the sudden surge of spatial density, carving a localized crater right where the guards lay.
"Agh... urgh..." A few managed to squeeze out a ragged groan of agony, but within a fraction of a second, the sheer atmospheric strain caused their eyes to roll back into their heads. They blacked out instantly.
"Have a pleasant nap, everyone. Do try your best not to wake up permanently incapacitated." Drake spoke casually as his palm descended another inch.
BOOM!
Following a localized tremor, every remaining consciousness in the vault evaporated. To ensure he didn't alert the high command outside, Drake had specifically modulated his spatial pressure to use this "gentle" methodology to neutralize the garrison.
"Hehehe..."
Once the room fell dead silent, Drake let out a low, mischievous chuckle. Tucking his hands casually behind his back, he began to stroll into the deeper quadrants of the treasury. It would be a statistical lie to claim his pulse wasn't racing. This was the personal stronghold of a literal Emperor of the Sea. The economic value secured within these walls was bound to be astronomical.
Before long, a series of rather unsettling, triumphant chuckles echoed at irregular intervals within the dark, silent depths of the vault.
But with the structural dampening of the vault, not a single soul on the outside had any inkling of the grand audit taking place within. Well, except for a certain space-manipulating captain, of course.
Meanwhile, time continued its relentless, invisible march across Whole Cake Island.
The horizon gradually softened as the first light of dawn broke across the sky. For the citizens and guests occupying the territory, this date was marked as a monumental event: the hosting of the Yonko Big Mom's personal Tea Party.
The guest list comprised high-profile underworld emperors, financial giants, and prominent figures traveling from every corner of the globe. It was an invitation no one possessed the leverage to refuse. Everyone understood with absolute mathematical certainty what a rejection of Big Mom's decree entailed.
It was a lesson written in the blood of one's closest relatives. A single refusal meant receiving a beautifully wrapped gift box containing the severed head of a loved one, dragging the recipient straight into a living hell.
At that exact moment, inside Capone Bege's covert operations base, two prominent figures of the Worst Generation had officially aligned their variables.
Their shared objective: the total assassination of the Yonko, Big Mom!
The coalition was forged between the Straw Hat Pirates led by Monkey D. Luffy and the Fire Tank Pirates under the command of Capone Bege. With the parameters synchronized, the joint force was officially assembled.
Sanji had already departed the base to return to the chateau, given his role as the primary target of tomorrow's wedding arrangement.
Inside Bege's tactical briefing room, the conference had concluded, and the sub-units were preparing to disperse to execute their deployment protocols. Suddenly, Brook raised a bony hand, looking thoroughly hesitant.
"Um... excuse me..."
The surrounding fighters looked back at the skeleton, their expressions filled with confusion.
"What is it, Brook? Is there a variable we omitted?" Chopper asked.
Bege and his core executives, who had just stood up to coordinate the perimeter security details for the event, paused in their tracks, their glares locking onto the musician.
Under the collective weight of their stares, Brook's jaw clicked nervously as he spoke in a hesitant, disjointed tone. "Well... um... actually, there's an exceptionally vital piece of data that completely slipped my memory until now..."
"Spit it out."
"The thing is... well... I highly calculate that Big Mom is currently not physically present on Whole Cake Island," Brook said, scratching his hollow skull.
The realization had just processed in his mind. They were systematically mapping out a high-risk strategy to assassinate an Emperor, but if the target was currently trapped inside an alternate reality, the plan possessed zero structural feasibility. There was no target to execute.
"WHAT!?" Bege's eyes bugged out, his cigar nearly slipping from his teeth as he barked in sheer disbelief. "Are you out of your mind? How could Big Mom possibly be absent from her own stronghold?"
"Because a short while ago, Luffy's older brother, Drake-san, physically dragged her into an entirely isolated, lifeless dimension. Judging by the parameters of that space, I don't calculate she can easily breach the barrier to return," Brook explained.
He vividly recalled the absolute, manic frustration on Big Mom's face within that void. Having witnessed the inner mechanics of the Mirro-World, Brook had deduced that the gray expanse Drake summoned was an independent spatial dimension. If that hypothesis was correct, the mathematical probability of Big Mom escaping on her own was practically zero. Within an independent dimension controlled by a spatial master, even if an Emperor exerted enough raw force to shatter the terrain, they wouldn't necessarily pierce the dimensional threshold.
"What!? Are you claiming someone actually managed to trap her!?" Bege's composure fractured for a split second, but he quickly forced a dismissive laugh. "Preposterous. Even among the apex of this world, it is statistically impossible for anyone to completely cage a monster like Big Mom."
Bege was intimately aware of the sheer, catastrophic reality of Big Mom's power. To suggest a single individual could lock her out of reality sounded like a fairy tale.
"Brook, is that data verified?" Luffy grinned broadly.
While the rest of the room viewed the claim as a physical impossibility, Luffy held zero doubts. If it was Drake executing the maneuver, then the outcome was a mathematical certainty.
"Yes. Both Big Mom and I were dragged into that specialized environment, and the structural signatures of that space felt entirely detached from our current world," Brook noted seriously.
"But... if Big Mom is entirely off the grid... what happens to our deployment?" Chopper asked, looking thoroughly lost. If the Emperor was missing, their assassination plot had zero baseline utility.
"However, we cannot entirely dismiss the possibility that she has already forced a breach," Brook added honestly. "A significant amount of time has elapsed since my extraction, and I lack the diagnostic tools to verify her current coordinates." Given the raw, anomalous tier of a Yonko's strength, keeping her contained permanently was bound to be an extreme challenge.
"Regardless of the variables, we proceed with our deployment exactly as scheduled," Bege said, waving his hand to dismiss the discussion. He fundamentally refused to buy into the skeleton's theory.
Besides, the logistical preparations for the Tea Party were already being executed at the summit of the chateau. As the commander-in-chief of security, he had to maintain his operational facade to avoid triggering any alarms among the Charlotte family.
"Right!"
Luffy and his crew exchanged a series of knowing glances, nodding in unison.
At the highest tier of the Whole Cake Chateau, the venue was a scene of spectacular opulence. The underworld emperors and global tycoons who had received the imperial summons were filtering through the checkpoints, with Big Mom's numerous children managing the reception desk.
Directly above the primary entrance, perched casually atop a stone wall, sat Charlotte Katakuri. His towering frame and razor-sharp aura exerted a crushing psychological weight over the incoming guests.
Even though the individuals passing beneath him were prominent titans of the underworld, not a single one of them possessed the spinal fortitude to display any arrogance before his gaze. He was the man celebrated as an unbroken, invincible myth.
On the surface, Katakuri sat motionless, maintaining a cold, unreadable facade as if he were merely acting as a standard deterrent against any localized disruptions. In reality, his sharp eyes were systematically scanning every single quadrant of the venue, logging every micro-expression.
Nearby, his brothers and sisters felt a lingering, dense knot of anxiety tightening in their chests, keeping their senses highly re-calibrated to adapt to any sudden shifts in the environment.
The venue appeared to be a grand, celebratory gathering of the world's elite, but beneath the surface of the opulence, a chaotic torrent of hidden undercurrents was beginning to churn.