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"Then these things, I'll take them first," Ayr said calmly, his voice devoid of hesitation. He wasn't foolish; he understood perfectly well that after eliminating some of the most notorious pirates across the seas, it was only a matter of time before he too became a target. But for now, the arrangement with the World Government still held value. Their intelligence network remained useful, and until he completed his current objective, he would use every advantage they could offer. His priorities were simple and absolute: eliminate John, Ochoku, Silver Axe, and the others firstâthen handle whatever consequences followed.
As his words fell, the ten treasure chests before him emptied in an instant. The Devil Fruits vanished into Ayr's spiritual spaceâan ability that had astonished many in the past but now, in this rarefied room deep within Mariejois, drew no reaction from the Five Elders. After all, Ayr had already demonstrated enough inexplicable powers that their capacity for shock had long since been numbed. Objects disappearing into nothingness? At this point, it was almost mundane.
"ButâŠ" the bald elder with the long scar across his forehead finally spoke, his voice breaking the quiet with a sharp edge. "You brought someone with you to the Holy Land, didn't you? That manâEdward Newgate." His tone was casual, but the implication was anything but. "Our cooperation was established to purge the New World of its pirate filth. Now, one of the most powerful pirates alive is sitting here in Mariejois. Why not kill him too? Naturally, you'll be paid accordingly."
"Our goal," Ayr answered with flat indifference, reclining into the plush, imperial-red sofa beneath him, "was John." His tone made it clear he had no intention of shifting focus.
"That's a matter for later," another elder countered, voice dry and unrelenting. "Right now, there's a living Yonko-class pirate hereâunder your nose. Kill him, and your reward will rise substantially."
"I refuse."
It was not hesitation. It was not bargaining. It was a line drawn in the sand. Ayr had no intention of killing Whitebeardânot now, not ever. Among all the pirates who still roamed the seas, Edward Newgate was the one man Ayr genuinely respected. More than that, he could trust him. While others fought for wealth, power, or chaos, Whitebeard followed him to Mariejois for no gainâonly concern. Despite Ayr's ruthless reputation, his insatiable appetite for power, Devil Fruits, and his cold-blooded ways, there were lines he refused to cross. He wouldn't betray the only man who had stood beside him without demanding anything in return.
"Ayr," the elder with golden hair and glasses leaned forward, fingers steepled, voice low and coaxing. "Before this cooperation began, we granted you twenty Devil Fruits up front. That was our goodwill gesture." The faintest smile curled on his lips. "Now show us yours. You're a man of interests, aren't you?"
"One matter at a time," Ayr said, his voice turning sharper, darker, colder than the air around them. "I'm focused on John. If you want Edward handled, we'll discuss that later." His gaze was unblinking, his posture unmoved. There were many he was willing to take out in the New World for the Five Elders, but Whitebeard was not one of them.
"The ten Fruits you just received," the katana-wielding elder added, his voice carrying the weight of ancient authority, "were your deposit for John. Kill Edward now, and you'll receive twenty-five more. That's the price we're offering."
They thought he was haggling. In their eyes, this was a transaction like any other. Twenty-five Devil Fruits for Whitebeardâa fair trade, a simple negotiation. But it wasn't. They didn't understand Ayr.
"Of course, it has to be you who kills him," the blond elder continued smoothly, lifting a delicate porcelain cup of tea to his lips. "We need to witness your loyalty, your dedication to this partnership."
The logic was clear. If Ayr remained idle after receiving the reward, it would create complications for them. They needed action. They needed proof. Blood.
"Do I need to repeat myself again?" Ayr said coolly, voice devoid of emotion. "I refuse."
"Ayr," the elder gripping the blade sneered, his fingers tightening. "This is Mariejoisâthe sacred heart of the World Government. You're refusing us here?"
"Are you sure you understand what that means?"
"Disappointing," muttered the elder with dark skin and a white beard, shaking his head. "This could've been a fruitful collaboration."
"One final chance," the scarred elder intoned, his voice a low echo of warning. "Agreeâor face the consequences."
Their initial plan had been simple: let Ayr wipe out the chaos in the New World, rid the seas of the wild dogs they no longer had the patience to manage, and once he was finishedâdispose of him too. A convenient tool, nothing more. But now, he was stepping out of line. Perhaps, they thought, it was time to discard him early.
"You're tearing off the mask so soon?" Ayr slowly rose from the velvet couch, his expression one of weary disdain as he stared down the highest powers in the world. "You repulsive relics." His presence filled the sacred hall of Mariejois like a rising tide. There was no fear in his voiceâonly contempt. This room, this chamber, this allianceânone of it intimidated him. If anything, he found it all grotesque.
"A shame," he muttered, brushing invisible dust from his sleeve. "This cooperation had potential."
The instant his words dropped, the katana-wielding elderâthe most dangerous and secretive among the Fiveârose without a word, drawing his blade in one smooth motion. This was no ordinary sword. Its aura roared like a sealed storm unleashed. With a lunge that broke the air itself, he surged toward Ayr, his movements sharp as lightning and heavy with killing intent, a wrath shaped by centuries.
"Ching!!!"
Ayr responded without pause. His swordânone other than the Supreme Grade blade once wielded by Rocks D. Xebecâcleaved the air with a sound that split the sky. He had studied the weapon, unraveled its nature, and given it a new name after consulting the long-lost Sword Codex of the Sea.
Zhan Shenâthe God of War.
The moment he gripped it, Ayr's spiritual pressure surged violently, shaking the very walls of the Holy Land. Their swords collidedâeach wreathed in Armament Haki so dense it scorched the space around themâand the resulting shockwave exploded through the chamber like the wrath of a divine punishment.
"KAKKAKAKA!!!"
Marble cracked underfoot. The walls groaned. The ceiling trembled. Their clash tore through the foundations of Mariejois, ancient and revered, with a force that made it seem like the heavens themselves had turned away in shame.
"With your current strength, rejecting us will only lead to death!" the elder roared, his arms blazing with Haki that flared like fire. "You'll regret this, Ayr. Refusing the Five Elders will be the gravest mistake of your life!"
"Really?" Ayr said coldly, blade humming with power. "I don't think so."
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