The sky, woven from lightning, slowly closed in with near-crushing pressure.
The air seemed to freeze.
The only sound left on the island was the crackling of thunder—nothing else remained.
Jinbe stared at the 200 dragons coiled and gathered in the sky, his vision nearly darkening from the overwhelming sight.
Yet he didn't stop his assault.
He knew he couldn't possibly block all those attacks, but no matter what, he couldn't give up here.
He had to protect every single one of his fishmen brethren on this island.
"Fishman Karate! Ultimate Secret Technique: Oni Tile Straight Punch!"
As an immense surge of energy gathered within him, Jinbe's gaze toward Jake hardened with resolve.
"Jake-sama, I know you're holding back. I also know that what you're doing now must be for the sake of the fishmen's future. I've read about you countless times in the papers.
I will do everything in my power to stop your attacks—that's all!"
Seeing Jinbe's expression, Jake understood that the fishman had grasped his intentions.
He knew Jake was doing this for Fishman Island—that, deep down, Jinbe might even lean toward his side.
But as the leader of Fishman Island after Fisher Tiger, Jinbe's position was delicate.
He couldn't openly side with any faction, because his alignment would tip the scales decisively.
If he joined the Fishman District faction, which harbored hatred toward humans, Fishman Island would inevitably be led down a path of self-destruction by those warmongers.
And once that path was taken, there would be no turning back.
The tide of hatred would be unstoppable—even the royal family's intervention would be futile.
The entire island would inevitably be destroyed in some great war.
Jinbe knew the vast disparity in strength between humans and fishmen.
He knew exactly what would happen if the fishmen recklessly waged war against humanity.
But even though he personally understood this, he couldn't simply join the peaceful faction led by Queen Otohime either.
The death of their leader Fisher Tiger was an immense blow and shock to most of the brethren in Fish-Man District.
His passing left them with a deep-seated hatred that couldn't be erased anytime soon.
If Jinbe were to join the peace faction now, those extremists from Fish-Man District would most likely secede from Fish-Man Island entirely—or worse, declare war on the royal family directly.
To demonstrate their resolve, they might even resort to indiscriminate slaughter of humans.
And if they truly went that far, do you think humans would bother distinguishing between factions within Fish-Man Island when they came seeking retribution?
No, they wouldn't waste time on that.
The most likely outcome would be human powerhouses arriving to exterminate every last fish-man here!
To prevent such a path, Jinbe had no choice but to become a lone wanderer, moving between both factions as a mediator, desperately maintaining that fragile balance.
But now, Jake was shattering that balance with brutal force.
Yet Jinbe also understood—if Fish-Man Island was to truly move toward the future, this stifling equilibrium had to be broken.
But breaking it was impossible through internal efforts alone.
Jinbe had the strength, but he couldn't act.
First, he couldn't bring himself to do it.
Second, a certain degree of rebellious spirit was necessary here in Fish-Man Island.
The atrocities humans had committed against fish-men couldn't simply be forgotten.
The island needed those who would remember.
As for the royal family?
They commanded great prestige and considerable power, yet they could never fully unify the nation's perspective.
Now, Jinbe lifted his head, gazing at the terrifying thunderclouds enveloping nearly all of Fish-Man Island, and sighed inwardly.
He knew change would begin from this day onward.
After today, Fish-Man District might cease to exist.
Jinbe's final attack was his desperate attempt to preserve the spirit of fish-man resistance.
With a roar, his muscles bulged as he launched himself like a meteor piercing the sky, fists swinging into the churning storm.
Thunder exploded, painting the world in blinding orange-gold.
Jinbe was strong—but against Jake, a Logia-type Devil Fruit user with monstrous abilities, he was still outmatched.
Realizing he couldn't defeat both Jake and Monet, Jinbe chose instead to lay bare his convictions, hoping to sway Jake's decision through sheer will.
The other fish-men in the square watched Jinbe's slow descent from the sky, crying out in alarm and grief.
Some, tears streaming, charged toward Jake, fists raised to attack.
But then, Jinbe—charred and battered—rose from the ground.
Glaring at those rushing toward Jake, he bellowed.
"All of you, stand down! Jake-sama has not harmed me. Those attacks vanished on their own just before reaching me—he clearly held back! None of you are to provoke Jake-sama further!"
With that, Jinbei took a deep breath and slowly approached Jake.
Then, he bowed deeply and pleaded.
"Jake-sama, I understand why the Marines have come here. I know the existence of Fishman Street has crossed your bottom line. But I implore you not to resort to such extreme violence! If possible, I beg you here and now—give us more time! I swear I will change the minds of those radicals!"
Watching Jinbei lower his head before him, a faint smile curled on Jake's lips.
This was precisely the reaction he had hoped for.
Though Fishman Street was a stronghold for extremists, he couldn't possibly slaughter everyone indiscriminately.
Many were ordinary fishmen living there. If he wiped them all out in one stroke, it would only breed deeper hatred.
For Jake, the ideal balance was a mix of fear, gratitude, resentment, and hope.
Jinbei's current demeanor perfectly matched Jake's expectations.