Chapter 47 - CHAPTER 47 - Moris’ Intentions and the Fanatic

Skoda nodded and swiftly departed. He was strong in his own right, but after witnessing the battle between Bam and Crocodile, he knew he wasn't their match in a one-on-one fight. The best course of action was to join forces with Bam—if they could eliminate Crocodile first, everything else would be nothing more than minor trouble. "A Shichibukai, huh? So, there's a difference in strength between them. He's nowhere near as strong as Mihawk." In a shadowed alley, Moris sat on the ground like a vagabond, watching the distant battle with no intention of intervening. He simply drank his liquor, his eyes flickering with excitement. As he thought of Mihawk, his hand instinctively reached for his old wounds. They seemed to ache again, if only in memory. "Move aside. Get lost." Skoda strode down the street, his gaze falling on a towering figure sitting casually in the middle of the road. The man was so large that he blocked half the street. Skoda didn't want to take a detour, nor did he feel like wasting time breaking through a wall. Seeing the obstruction ahead, he simply barked his command. "Gang fights are a bad habit. A one-on-one duel is where the real spectacle lies. You'd be doing me a favor by staying out of this." Moris' voice was deep and magnetic, but beneath its steadiness lay a tinge of exhilaration. "Hmph, mind your own business, or—" Before Skoda could finish, a massive hand reached toward him. "You're looking for death!" He hadn't even gotten a clear look at the attacker, but since they dared make a move against him, he wouldn't hold back. In his earlier scuffle with the Shichibukai's subordinate, he had gained the upper hand. Yet suddenly, an overwhelming presence enveloped him. A monstrous aura pressed down, sending a primal fear surging through his body. He couldn't move. Why? The attack was slow—he should have been able to dodge. But his body wouldn't respond. It trembled uncontrollably, instincts screaming at him to flee. His own survival instincts had seized control, leaving him paralyzed with terror. "No—!" His desperate scream was cut short. Boom! The massive palm clamped onto Skoda's head and slammed him into the ground with bone-crushing force. The impact shattered the street, collapsing nearby buildings. Skoda had no chance to resist. With that one strike, he was knocked unconscious. "Boring." Moris didn't bother finishing him off. Instead, he took another swig of his drink, sinking back into a hazy intoxication. This was a truly delightful sensation. Although he despised the Shichibukai, he had to admit—this one had been a stroke of luck for him. Originally, his plan had been to ignite a conflict between the Marines and the Bordeaux Estate, allowing him to swoop in and seize control of the island. He had meticulously mapped out each step: using the island as a base, recruiting more forces, expanding rapidly, and climbing his way to the top. Even if some sacrifices were necessary along the way, he had deemed them acceptable. To that end, he had even recruited Anlin, a pirate of mediocre strength but some strategic value. Through Anlin, he had established informant links within the Marines, gaining access to vital intelligence about their officers and internal corruption. But then Crocodile had arrived—an unexpected variable. Not only had he instigated a battle with the Bordeaux Estate, but it now seemed likely he would destroy it entirely. And the Marines had gotten involved as well. For Moris, this was excellent news. At key moments, he had added fuel to the fire—like arranging Anlin's sudden "accidental death." Though they had briefly worked together, Anlin had served his purpose. The investment had not been wasted. Now, Moris no longer had to worry about the Bordeaux faction and the Marines uniting against him. He only needed to sit back and watch the chaos unfold. If Crocodile managed to kill the Marines as well, it would be perfect. "Hell, I should give that guy a few billion as a thank-you gift." After tonight's battle, no one in Liquor Island would be strong enough to oppose him—not in the short term, at least. Even if Bam defeated the Shichibukai, he wouldn't walk away unscathed. And from the looks of things, one of them was bound to die. That meant one less obstacle for Moris. As for the Marines, if their officers died, he would let the survivors live—if they were obedient. If they refused to cooperate, he would wipe them out too. And he'd make sure to pin the blame on either Crocodile or Bam, depending on who survived. It wouldn't even be a lie—their conflict was real. All he needed to do was nudge the outcome a little. That was why he was so pleased. With barely any effort, he had placed his biggest obstacles on a silver platter. In the end, he would be the one left standing. The more they fought, the better. The more people knew about the battle, the less suspicion would fall on him. He had no intention of becoming a wanted man too soon. Despite his power, he had avoided direct action for a reason. If he moved too soon, the Marines would brand him a criminal. And as the so-called "King of Bounty Hunters," he found the idea of being labeled like his former prey utterly repulsive. One day, the strongest bounty hunter in the world would rise from this very island. And so, if possible, he would rather *not* become a pirate. "Hahaha." Moris laughed heartily, drinking even more. — Boom! Boom! Boom! Explosions ripped through the air as rocket shells rained down, obliterating the ruins where Daz Bones and Nico Robin had taken shelter. Daz stepped in front of Robin, shielding her from most of the blast. "Move in! They're still alive!" Before the next barrage could be reloaded, a group of elite assassins rushed forward. "If you capture the woman alive, there's a hefty reward." Maris sneered viciously. Once he had Robin in his grasp, he would make her understand what betrayal cost. A dozen skilled killers charged in. "Fleur: Twist!" Robin activated her ability, locking some of them in place. But using her power drained her energy, and in direct combat, she was not formidable. Her high bounty had always been due to her knowledge, not her combat prowess. "I won't kill you. My boss prefers you alive—he pays more for that. But if I break your arms and legs, I doubt he'll mind." A cold-blooded assassin flickered into view, swinging his blade upward, aiming to cripple Robin. Clang! Daz Bones stepped in, blocking the strike. Sparks flew. "Micron Blade!" Slash! The arrogant assassin was instantly reduced to a bloodied corpse. But more were coming. Even Daz Bones was feeling the pressure—there were too many of them. And Maris was too close, flanked by two men in black suits whose presence radiated danger. A swift decapitation strike wasn't going to be easy. "You don't seem to have much will to survive." Daz noticed something odd—Robin was only counterattacking instinctively, not fighting with any real determination. "Just as he said—I'm nothing more than a woman who survives by betrayal. If I live, I live. If I die, then that's simply how it is." Robin gave a faint smile, indifferent. "The boss wouldn't want to see you like this. He wants you to live." Daz shook his head. "Does he?" Robin hesitated. Then she dismissed the thought. Perhaps she still had some value left to him. "He does. The boss treats you differently—not because of your value, but because he considers you a friend." Robin's heart wavered for a moment. But then she remembered Crocodile's actions at the banquet—the way he had stood up for her, unwavering. And for the first time, a figure she had long avoided trusting took shape in her mind. "Follow the boss. He is a remarkable man. He was before, and now he's even stronger. He will become the most formidable man in the world." Daz's eyes burned with a newfound fanaticism. (End of Chapter)