Chapter 257

As the crimson-stained Lucci strode onto the deck, his eyes cold and indifferent to the bloodshed he had caused, I glanced at the small chest in my hand, the Goru Goru no Mi resting quietly inside.

A treasure of unimaginable power—yet the cost of such power was paid in lives. Robin stood beside me, her young face heavy with the weight of what she'd witnessed.

"Brother Ross," Robin's soft voice trembled slightly, though her expression remained stoic. "What will it truly take to change all this? To stop the violence, the suffering…?"

Her eyes drifted to the remaining few survivors scattered on the island, trembling in fear after the merciless massacre. Lucci, Dora, and Smoker had decimated them without hesitation, leaving behind nothing but death in their wake. For Robin, still haunted by the destruction of Ohara, this was yet another reminder of the cruelty of the world.

I turned to her, seeing not just the little girl who had joined my crew, but the survivor—the girl who had lost everything yet found the strength to keep going. She deserved the truth, not some sugar-coated lie.

"To change this world?" I began, my voice steady, but carrying the weight of hard-earned lessons.

"It takes absolute strength. The kind of strength that forces the world to bend to your will. People won't respect you unless they fear you. You have to be the one standing at the top, where no one can challenge you. Only then can you dictate how the world should be."

Robin's eyes widened slightly, not from shock, but from the depth of my answer. She had already seen this truth in her own way—the World Government had destroyed her home because they feared knowledge, and only those with power had the right to decide who lived and who died.

She understood the brutal reality of the world we lived in, but hearing it from me, so plainly, was different.

"To be in a position where you don't have to kill, you must first be strong enough that no one dares challenge you. Strength... it doesn't just mean physical power. It means being able to make them understand the consequences of defying you."

Robin was quiet for a moment, processing my words. Then, she asked the question I had anticipated, but dreaded all the same.

"Have you killed people like this before, Brother Ross? Without a proper reason? Have you ever killed just because you could?" Her voice was soft, but there was no judgment—only a desire to understand. To know the kind of person she was following.

For a moment, I considered lying. But there was no point. Not with Robin. She had seen too much to be fooled by comforting words.

I sighed, the weight of old memories pressing down on me like a heavy burden. "Yes, Robin. I have. There was a time when I killed... innocents, people who had nothing to do with my hatred. I did it because I could. Because I was consumed by anger, by loss."

The silence that followed was thick, even the sea seemed to have quieted as everyone on the ship listened. Even Lucci, who never showed interest in anything beyond battle, was paying attention. They had never heard me speak like this before.

"I had lost everything," I continued, my voice growing distant as I remembered the events that had unfolded years ago. "I thought I had lost my family. I thought Doffy had died, and in my rage, I took it out on those who had nothing to do with it. I destroyed entire towns, innocent lives... all because I couldn't handle my pain."

Robin's eyes were wide, not with fear, but with understanding. She knew that kind of pain, the agony of losing everything. Yet, she had always managed to hold onto her humanity. And here I was, telling her that I had failed, that I had given in to the very darkness she was trying to escape.

"But I regret it," I added quietly. "To this day, I regret those actions. I'm not a good man, Robin. I never claimed to be. But I don't want to be a mindless killer. Taking a life... it must have a reason. It's a responsibility that should never be taken lightly."

The words hung in the air between us, heavy and raw. For the first time, I felt exposed—like the mask of the ruthless pirate captain had slipped, revealing the man beneath. A man who had made mistakes. A man who still carried the weight of those mistakes.

Robin looked at me, her expression softening. "I don't think you're a bad person, Brother Ross. I think you're... human. We all have our moments of weakness. It's what we do after that matters."

Her words were wise beyond her years, and for a moment, I marveled at the strength of this little girl who had endured so much yet still managed to hold onto her sense of justice.

"Strength isn't just about power," I said, my voice softening. "It's also about knowing when to use it, and when to hold back. It's about finding the balance between being feared and being respected."

Robin nodded, her small hands curling into fists at her sides. "I understand. I'll be strong enough one day... strong enough to protect those I care about and make sure no one has to suffer the way I did."

I smiled, a rare, genuine smile. "You will, Robin. I have no doubt about that."

The silence that followed was no longer heavy—it was peaceful. An understanding had been reached, not just between Robin and me, but within myself. We were all flawed. We had all made mistakes. But that's what made us humans.

And as long as we kept striving, kept pushing forward, we could still carve out a place in this world where we dictated the rules. Where we decided the consequences.

"Let's go," I said, standing up and motioning for her to follow. "There's still a lot to do, and the world won't change on its own."

I turned my gaze toward the horizon where the World Government ship was frantically trying to make its escape. A smirk played at the corner of my lips. "Well now, let's not dwell on the past," I said calmly, sheathing the chest that held the Goru Goru no Mi. "It's time to deal with the little rats trying to scurry away, don't you think?"

The ship in the distance was already shrinking as it sped away, the Cipher Pol agents aboard scrambling in panic. It was clear that the lure of the devil fruit had reached more than just pirate ears—the World Government must have caught wind of the trade. The Goru Goru no Mi represented untold wealth, and they couldn't resist claiming it for themselves.

But seeing our giant ship must have already tipped them off to who they were dealing with, and now they were desperate to flee.

Unfortunately for them, I had no intention of letting them leave. The World Government couldn't know the fruit had fallen into the hands of the Donquixote family. It would be our secret to exploit.

---

Aboard the fleeing government ship, the Cipher Pol agent in charge was barking orders, his voice filled with urgency. "We must report this immediately to the superiors. They'll need to know that the Donquixote family is involved…"

He reached for his transponder snail, but as he attempted to send his message, all he received was silence. A flicker of frustration crossed his face as he repeated his attempts, but none of the snails were responding. His growing frustration was interrupted by a panicked shout from one of his subordinates.

"Sir...! Sir!" the subordinate called urgently, his voice trembling with fear.

"What is it?!" the Cipher Pol agent roared, but his rage faltered when he saw the look on the subordinate's face, eyes wide with terror, staring skyward.

The agent's blood ran cold as he followed his subordinate's gaze. Above them, a dark, massive shadow stretched across the sky, blotting out the sun as if the hand of a god had descended from the heavens themselves.

Thunder crackled ominously, rolling across the sky in a deep, resounding boom. The clouds churned violently, swirling like a brewing storm as lightning flickered ominously within them.

The Cipher Pol agent's face drained of all color. He had believed that if they fled fast enough, they might have had a chance—an escape from the monster who commanded a bounty of more than three billion berries. But now, in the face of this overwhelming power, he realized just how naive their hope had been.

---

From my position on the deck, I could sense the raw terror emanating from the government ship, even from miles away. The corners of my mouth tugged upward in a wicked grin. The skies above me responded to my will, rumbling as the storm grew fiercer. Lightning danced at my fingertips, crackling with a power that seemed to make the very air tremble.

Drawing my blade, Shusui, I held it aloft, the weight of the storm gathering around me. The wind howled as the heavens grew dark, thick clouds swirling overhead, the scent of ozone heavy in the air. My eyes locked onto the fleeing ship, a pitiful dot in the distance.

I swung my blade down in a slow, deliberate arc, channeling the storm through my sword as if the skies themselves obeyed my command.

"Heavens... Smite!"

The words echoed like a divine decree, and in an instant, a massive pillar of black lightning tore through the heavens. The bolt was unlike any natural lightning, thick and furious, surging with raw, destructive energy. It split the sky, descending upon the ship with a force so overwhelming it seemed as though time itself had frozen in that moment.

The world fell silent. For a brief second, all was still—too still. Then, the bolt struck the government ship with an earth-shattering roar. The sea churned violently beneath it, the water vaporizing from the sheer heat of the strike. The sound was deafening, a thunderclap so loud it seemed to shake the very core of the earth.

And then… nothing.

When the black lightning faded and the skies began to clear, the calmness returned as if nothing had ever happened. The sea, once turbulent, was now eerily still. The wind, which had howled moments ago, now carried a soft, gentle breeze.

But the World Government ship—its crew, its Cipher Pol agents—was gone. There wasn't a trace of it left. No debris. No wreckage. It had been completely and utterly erased from existence, as though it had never been there in the first place.

I sheathed Shusui, letting the power of the storm subside, my expression calm. There was no need for theatrics. What had been done was simply a demonstration of the reality of this world. Power rules. Strength dictates.

"Master," Lucci said, his voice steady as he approached, wiping the blood from his face. "The last of the pirates have been dealt with."

I nodded, not taking my eyes off the spot where the ship had been moments before. "Good."

Robin, standing nearby, watched with a mixture of awe and understanding. She had seen the full extent of what true power meant. And in this world, power like mine was the only thing that made the difference between survival and annihilation.

As the skies cleared and the calm returned, I looked down at the chest containing the Goru Goru no Mi. "Now... the world doesn't need to know about this little transaction, do they?"

Robin's small voice cut through the calm. "Brother Ross... Will the world ever understand this kind of power?"

I smirked. "They will, Robin. In time, they will. But for now... the world will learn to fear it."

******

Flevance, North Blue

"Why is the amount of ore less than what was promised?" The government agent growled, his voice sharp with suspicion. He glared at the representative of Flevance's Royal Kingdom, his face a mask of bitterness as he spat his response.

"You've got some nerve, don't you?" The royal sneered, his eyes filled with contempt. "You can't even handle the Doflamingo family, and yet you dare to ask me why the ore shipments have been reduced?"

The agent snorted dismissively, acting as if the Donquixote family's dominance in North Blue had nothing to do with him. But both men knew the truth. Ever since the Donquixote family had asserted control over North Blue, every deal—no matter how secret—was done under their shadow.

Nothing moved in North Blue without their approval, and now even the once open and prosperous Amber Lead trade had to be conducted in the shadows.

The royal representative's frustration was evident. His kingdom had declared the mines to be drying up, a lie meant to shield them from paying the ever-increasing demands of the Donquixote family. But behind closed doors, greed had driven them to continue mining, risking everything for more profit.

"Do you have any idea how much we have to pay the Donquixote family once they take their cut?" The royal snarled, bitterness lacing his words.

"Their demands grow every day, and there are rumors… rumors that the effects of Amber Lead are beginning to show. The people are getting sick. We had a deal—when the time comes, we'll need your help to evacuate me and my family from this cursed place before it all falls apart."

His eyes flickered nervously toward the agent, betraying his desperation. The king had made himself a slave to his greed, and now he was reaping the consequences. Amber Lead had made Flevance wealthy beyond imagination, but it was a ticking time bomb.

So long as the population remained ignorant of the lead poisoning that came with their prosperity, the mines would continue to line the royal family's pockets. But once the truth spread… chaos would follow.

The government agent stared him down, unimpressed. "That's your problem, not mine," he replied coldly, folding his arms across his chest.

"You've got a week to get the rest of the ore. Fail to deliver, and you can forget about securing a way out. With the Donquixote family in charge, you know how dangerous things will get for you and your family once they find out you've been dealing behind their backs."

The agent's voice held a naked threat, and the royal felt his stomach churn. He frowned deeply, but he knew the truth. The government was his only lifeline now, and they knew it. Still, he had to exploit what he could from this cursed country before the inevitable collapse.

The mines were still producing, albeit secretly, and the people—blinded by the wealth and prosperity Amber Lead had brought them—were quietly helping him extract the last bits of ore. All he needed to do was make as much profit as possible before the truth about Amber Lead spread like wildfire and he lost everything.

The royal clenched his fists, seething internally. The agent, sensing his frustration, offered no sympathy. "Greed might have bought you time, but it won't buy you safety when everything falls apart. Don't forget where your only chance of survival lies."

With that, the agent turned and left, leaving the royal in the dimly lit room, his thoughts spiraling. The truth about Amber Lead's poison would come to light sooner or later, and when it did, he needed to be far from Flevance.

Far from the inevitable wrath of the people he had deceived, and far from the Donquixote family, whose retribution would be swift and merciless if they discovered his betrayal.

Just a few minutes after the basement was cleared after the secretive meeting, a shadowy figure emerged from the dark corner. As the figure emerged from the corner of the dimly lit basement, a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

His eyes glinted with amusement as he muttered, "Do they really believe we're unaware of their little schemes?" He chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head at the sheer audacity of the Flevance royalty. With deliberate movements, he reached into his coat, pulling out a small transponder snail. Its antennae twitched as it connected the call.

"Sir, it's confirmed," the man said, his voice low and steady. "Do you want me to act?"

The response was not immediate. There was a moment of silence on the other end, the tension building with each passing second. Finally, Senor Pink's voice came through, calm but with an unmistakable edge of authority.

"No. Let him continue for now. Just track the money, make sure every Berry is accounted for. When the time comes, we'll relieve him of the burden." His voice turned slightly colder. "What's the status of the disease? Any signs yet?"

The man on the ground shifted uncomfortably before replying, "Not yet, Sir…. There are a few isolated cases, but for now, no one's really taking it seriously, despite the warnings."

Senor Pink's sigh was almost audible, a sound of grim understanding. "Well, we're not here to play Savior. We're pirates, after all. But, per Young Master Ross's insistence, we gave them fair warning. If they choose to ignore it, that's their problem. Just keep your eyes on the royal family. When the time comes, make sure we don't leave even a single Berry behind."

There was a pause before Senor's voice hardened with a warning, his words biting. "And remember, keep a close eye on the kid and his family. If something happens to them... Young Master Ross will come to pay you a personal visit. And you don't want that."

The man on the other end couldn't help but feel a chill run down his spine at the mention of Ross. He had heard the stories—stories of the young master's swift and brutal judgment for those who failed him.

As the man on the other end of the transponder snail shuddered, he glanced around nervously, half-expecting someone to be lurking in the shadows. The weight of Senor's final words hung in the air like a death sentence.

"Young Master Ross... personally paying a visit..." The mere mention of the young master's name was enough to send chills down the spine of even the most hardened members of the Donquixote Pirates.

"Y-yes, sir! I'll keep everything in line. Not a single Berry will go missing! And I will personally ensure the safety of the child and his family, even if it costs my life." The man replied hastily, wiping the sweat off his brow. He knew better than to mess this up. Those who displeased Ross rarely lived to see another day.

The stories circulated among the ranks, whispered in hushed tones in dark alleys and smoky bars. Some said they'd seen him single-handedly take down entire fleets; others claimed he could strike down enemies from miles away with terrifying precision.

"The kid is the priority; remember that…"Senors voice echoed.

"Understood, Sir," the man replied, his voice firm, though his hands were trembling. He knew what was at stake, and there was no room for failure. The call ended with a soft click, and the man was left in silence once again, standing in the now-empty basement. He pocketed the transponder snail, his mind already racing with plans on how to ensure he didn't fall short of expectations.

*****

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