A gust of wind blew between the projectile and the figure. The fiery tail, dragging smoke, erupted from the rocket's rear, providing thrust. A metallic glint flashed across Wilder's five claws. He had blended Iron Body, the second of the Six Powers, with Finger Gun, making them hard, sharp, and imbued with power.
The two forces were locked in a momentary stalemate. Then, illuminated by the flames, the rocket was repelled, flying backward and exploding in a towering ring of fire.
"Incredible! He actually caught Curiel's rocket with his bare hands and sent it flying!" a Vice Admiral exclaimed in surprise, having witnessed the scene from afar.
"Hah…!" Wilder landed gently, exhaling a long breath. He raised his eyes. Curiel was gnashing his teeth, his expression pained.
"Hahaha! Let's have a good old-fashioned brawl, Curiel!" Wilder suddenly burst into laughter. He wanted to use this war to gain as much experience as possible.
"No way… Getting into close combat with someone like you is just asking for trouble!" Curiel said, leaping away. He fired his short gun repeatedly, the shots coming from tricky angles.
Wilder narrowed his eyes slightly. In the next instant, his body vanished. He used Soru, the Shave technique, to dodge the bullets.
Curiel put distance between himself and Wilder, continuously pulling the trigger. Rockets and bullets traced complex, interwoven trajectories, attempting to trap Wilder.
"Whoosh…!" Wilder's eyes opened. He could clearly see the path of an incoming rocket. He moved, and the projectile passed by him, crashing and exploding behind him.
Swish! Swish! Swish! Intersecting, faint lines entered Wilder's "eyes" and "ears." He sprang, flipped, and shifted, bullets constantly whizzing past him.
Gradually, Wilder closed his eyes, relying solely on his Observation Haki to "see" the attacks.
This place had seemingly become his training ground!
The wind, the bullets, the rockets – every movement seemed magnified, clearly captured by his "touch," "hearing," and "sight."
The feeling of the wind caressing his skin was exquisite, almost addictive. Bullets and rockets, with their fiery trails, wove an orange-red tapestry.
Wilder was deeply immersed, reveling in the feeling of having everything under control. His body felt as light as a sheet of paper, drifting with the wind.
Cannon fire raged across the battlefield. Among the Straw Hat crew, Ivankov, the Revolutionary Army officer, transformed his hands into giant scissors, cutting through the ground and creating a staircase leading to the execution platform.
Luffy charged forward, his eyes filled with unwavering determination as he ran up the stairs.
"Thwack!" Mihawk, the Swordsman, suddenly appeared in front of Luffy, his black blade sweeping horizontally.
In that instant, a sense of danger surged in Luffy's heart. He quickly retracted his outstretched arms, narrowly avoiding being severed.
Meanwhile, on a warship outside the bay, Vice and the others had successfully infiltrated.
Documents, ammunition, and other supplies had been loaded onto the ship in several crates.
"This is the latest tactical order. From now on, I am taking over command and directing all operations and wartime deployments of this warship," Vice said, impersonating a Vice Admiral, handing the forged order to the ship's commanding officer.
"I understand. Then everything is in your hands, Vice Admiral," The order had Sengoku's and his office's seal on it and, coupled with Vice currently masquerading as a Vice Admiral although his voice might not have been entirely convincing, Vice Admirals existed outside of headquarters too. There were many branch Vice Admirals that this commander had not met, thus the officer in charge of the warship did not become too suspicious.
However, he secretly picked up a Den Den Mushi and dialed the office number. Why not call Sengoku directly? Rank issues.
Soon, the "receptionist" on the other end, Claire, confirmed that the order was indeed legitimate.
The operation was proceeding smoothly.
On the other side, Claire put down the Den Den Mushi, pondering for a moment before standing up and leaving the office.
At a high vantage point, Ashin, Bacon, and Sherilmo were concealed, their eyes fixed on the battlefield below.
Ashin lay prone on the ground, a strangely shaped long rifle with a sniper scope in his hands. He was aiming at a distant target through the scope.
After handing over the propulsion device to Yves, Ashin had rendezvoused with Bacon and Sherilmo.
"This guy knows how to do everything," Bacon muttered, glancing at Ashin.
"Shut your useless trap!" Sherilmo glared at him, his expression still sour.
Bacon rolled his eyes, saying nothing. Sherilmo was nearly driven to apoplexy!
"Silence," a raspy voice came from beneath Ashin's mask, flat yet carrying a sinister undertone.
The two exchanged glances, pouting slightly. They didn't want to provoke this strange fellow.
So far, within Wilder's crew, Ashin was the one, besides Wilder himself, that they understood the least. Therefore, he had been given a nickname by the others: "The Unfathomable Ashin."
On the battlefield, Wilder's body swayed with the wind, as light and airy as a delicate piece of paper.
Rockets flew past him, but none could hit him. This unique dodging method had a specific name.
"Paper Drawing!"
Opening his eyes, a smile couldn't help but appear on Wilder's lips. After Iron Body, Moon Walk, Finger Gun, and Shave, he had learned another of the Six Powers, and in an incredibly short amount of time.
"Then… it's time to end this." Wilder's smile vanished. His body instantly stopped, and he stomped on the ground, launching himself forward with explosive force.
"So fast!" Curiel's pupils contracted. Then, he felt a sharp pain in his side. He looked down, his eyes widening in horror.
A chunk of flesh had been ripped from his side, blood gushing out, exposing the raw muscle. Wilder's figure had vanished again in a ripple of air, soundlessly.
Boom! A rocket erupted from the launcher. Curiel's eyes darted around, desperately trying to move his short gun, searching for the fleeting shadow.
The rocket slammed into the ground, sending up a towering plume of smoke and fire. The air was kicked up in a burst, Wilder's figure flickering in and out of existence, constantly advancing, the sonic booms overlapping.
"Piercing Horns of the Serpent Demon!"
Faint images of serpents seemed to surge from the air, their heads bearing sharp, twin horns – formed by ten hardened fingers.
Rip! Blood spurted. Curiel's eyeballs bulged, straining to their limits.
"Cough… Gwah!" A massive mouthful of blood gushed from Curiel's mouth. His breathing was ragged. He stared, trying to focus on the ten fingers that had pierced the sides of his ribcage, his eyes flickering.
"Cough…" Another mouthful of blood erupted. Curiel felt his eyelids growing heavier and heavier. Faintly, he thought he heard his comrades calling out, along with the sound of the Marine being forced back.
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