A cold, emotionless voice, brimming with killing intent, rang out.
It was No. 1.
The massive figure of No. 6 stomped forward, and the ground shook thunderously beneath his step.
No one spoke. Everyone's eyes were fixed on the faint outline of the house across the Nanohana field. A chilling air of murder began to spread.
Outside the wooden cabin, Rojen stood, listening to the hurried footsteps moving back and forth inside, mixed with the anxious shouts of Lordling and Rouge's pained cries.
"Captain, sit down. You can't rush childbirth." Trens, watching Rojen's tense expression, shook his head helplessly.
Why was it that someone else was giving birth, and yet his captain looked like a nervous wreck?
"After waiting so long… this moment has finally come." Rojen shook his head as he replied to Trens.
But how could Trens possibly understand what was going on in his mind?
Since arriving in this world, even though his presence had altered a few events and characters from the original One Piece timeline, most of the world's events still followed their destined course, driven by the overwhelming inertia of canon.
The wheels of fate in this world were massive, unstoppable, and majestic. Changing their course… was far from easy. Time and again, he had warned Roger about his death. Roger even knew his own fate, but still, he died in the end.
This time, Rojen had saved Rouge with his own hands. He wanted her to live, to truly survive. This was no longer a passive warning like with Roger. This was direct interference. Active disruption.
But… would the world's overwhelming narrative momentum crush his efforts once again?
These last few days, the vague presence of surveillance had already made him uneasy. And now, at this critical moment, a deep, chilling dread crept over him, making every nerve in his body tense.
"No matter what happens… Rouge and the child must survive!" His eyes narrowed, Rojen's expression hardened like steel.
"The head's out!"
A midwife's joyful cry came from inside, and Rojen's face shifted, he let out a breath of relief.
It wasn't over yet, but this was a good sign.
"Push, Rouge! You're almost there!"
Encouraging voices echoed from within, along with Rouge's intense cries of labor.
Trens held his rifle, sweeping his gaze around warily. He couldn't quite understand why Rojen was this tense; usually, things like this didn't go wrong.
Then suddenly, something flickered in Trens' peripheral vision.
"What's that?"
He turned his head back to the area he'd just glanced at, and in the next instant, his pupils shrank violently.
"Captain!"
He couldn't help it. Tren's voice dropped into a heavy, grim tone.
Just as Trens shouted, Rojen too saw them, five figures, stepping across the rapeseed flowers, approaching slowly.
Each one was clad in black, with cold, emotionless expressions, and eyes filled with icy killing intent. There was no need to guess their purpose.
Trens quickly moved closer to Rojen, disengaging the safety on his rifle. His gaze turned sharp and focused.
"Trens, no need to hold back. Kill them all if you can." Rojen spoke softly, yet with iron in his voice.
"Understood!"
Their outfits were exactly the same as the group from that night, even their auras were identical. It was obvious these people weren't here for peace.
The five black-clad intruders stepped into the courtyard, now face to face with Rojen and Trens, two against five, locked in a silent standoff.
"Pleased to meet you. You can call me Igor."
No. 1 stepped forward and introduced himself in a flat, detached tone.
"Who are you people?" Rojen asked coldly.
"You don't need to know who we are. And frankly, you're not even qualified to know. Either way, you won't be alive after today's mission." No. 1 replied calmly, his gaze treating the two in front of him like they were already corpses. To him, they weren't even worth noticing.
"No. 3, go retrieve His Highness from inside."
One of the five, a tall, thin man, nodded silently. His figure trembled slightly and vanished, appearing instantly at the wooden cabin's entrance.
"Rokushiki!"
Rojen's eyes sharpened, instantly recognizing the elite Six Powers martial art.
Before he could react further, Trens had already pulled the trigger without hesitation.
Bang!
No. 3's figure flickered and retreated swiftly to avoid the shot.
The gunshot forced No. 3 to retreat from the cabin entrance, drawing all five enemies' eyes to Rojen and Trens.
"As expected... they've got some skill."
No. 1 nodded slightly as he observed, though there was no real weight behind his gaze, he still looked down on them.
"Kill them."
With a wave of his hand, three figures behind him immediately sprang into action, charging straight at Rojen and Trens.
In the blink of an eye, they were already at the duo's front.
Trens's eyes narrowed. With a twist of his rifle, he squeezed the trigger repeatedly.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Three consecutive shots fired, causing the incoming attackers to shift their expressions and dodge quickly.
While Trens provided cover fire, Rojen stepped forward, his body warped and vanished.
"Shunpo!" (Flash Step)
A whirlpool spun open in midair.
Then, right at the wooden cabin's doorway, directly in front of No. 3, a long sword pierced out of the vortex. Fierce sword qi erupted from it with a violent, unstoppable force, aimed straight for the intruder.
"Swish!"
Like a lightning bolt tearing through time itself, the blade was already at No. 3's face in an instant.
His face changed dramatically, he stomped his feet, his figure flashing backward in a rapid retreat.
By that moment, Rojen was already standing firm in front of the cabin door, defending it with his life.
Ten meters away, No. 3 stood still, expression icy. He slowly touched his cheek.
A thin line of blood ran down his face. The slight sting made his heart tremble.
"He's strong."
The sword hadn't even touched his face. Yet within three inches of the blade, there was an invisible sword pressure, sharper than steel, which had cut him.
It was that pressure, not the sword itself, that drew blood.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunshots echoed once more. Tren's expression was heavy as his rifle muzzle constantly shifted angles. Three figures blurred before him, their shadows flashing across the courtyard. But no matter how fast they moved, they couldn't get close, yet.
Still, as the shots continued, Trens's face grew more grim.
"Ammo's running low…"
Even so, he couldn't afford to stop firing.
The moment he paused, even for a second, they'd pounce. These enemies left zero breathing room.
At the doorway, Rojen saw the situation and his expression hardened even more.
These black-clad enemies, origin unknown, were undeniably powerful. This wasn't some minor squad. These were elite killers.
Six seconds passed.
Suddenly, Trens' gunfire paused for a fraction of a second.
In that exact moment, the three black shadows locked eyes. Their pupils flashed with cold light.
Their feet stomped the air, cyclones spun around them as dust kicked up, and their bodies twisted into streaks of motion blur.
"Damn it!"
Trens's expression changed drastically.
He struck the spare magazine on his belt, his hand moving fast, but just as the old clip dropped from the rifle, they closed in.
His reload speed was excellent, one fluid motion, honed by experience. But, they were faster.
"Whoosh!"
A violent gust slammed toward him. Trens's eyes widened.
From the blur of motion, a leg swung out toward his face.
In less than a second, the kick connected with full force.
The rifle jolted in his hands. The clip wobbled and missed its slot, he'd missed the perfect reload timing.
A massive force slammed into him, making his vision spin. Golden stars burst across his eyes.
"BOOM!"
He was sent flying.
(End of Chapter)
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