"Bang, bang, bang!"
Gunfire rang out, bullets pouring wildly into the air.
But Lawrence moved like a phantom—so fast, so fluid—that not a single shot could touch him. He weaved through the storm of bullets with inhuman precision.
Nearby, Bruner caught a glimpse of Lawrence's face in the firelight and froze. That face... it was familiar. A heartbeat later, his expression changed drastically.
"Is it... Lawrence the Speedy Hand?! No! Everyone, retreat!" he bellowed, diving for cover himself.
"But wasn't the enemy supposed to be a masked figure? Wasn't it someone from the Vinsmoke Family? Why is it a pirate with a bounty over 40 million?! Why?!"
Panic surged through Bruner. He had never imagined the one who wiped out three great factions would be that Lawrence. Had he known it was a pirate of such caliber, he wouldn't have come within ten kilometers of this place.
A bounty over 40 million berries—especially in the Four Seas—was an anomaly. Such pirates were monsters, far beyond what ordinary marines could handle.
Certainly not a marine like him—one who simply obeyed orders and tried to survive each day.
"Could it be... that damned Yara gave me false intel? Did she send me here to die?!"
Bruner's face darkened as realization crept in.
Something had always felt off about Yara and her group of sailors. Why would a mere underworld family spook them so badly? Now it made sense. They had been playing a part.
They had staged everything—just to push him into action.
A carefully crafted trap.
This wasn't just bad luck—it was sabotage. With the tension that had existed between him and Yara, he wouldn't put it past her. They had clashed before. She had motive.
"Yara, you're cruel," Bruner muttered through clenched teeth, seething with resentment.
Lawrence scoffed, voice laced with contempt.
"Hmph. Regret it now, Marines? Too late. You dared to raise a hand against us—now you'll face the only fate that awaits you!"
With brutal efficiency, Lawrence's pistols roared again.
Each shot from his custom-modified firearm unleashed a force more than ten times that of a standard model. Every trigger pull strained the arm, a weapon that only someone with monstrous physique and dexterity could wield properly.
The marines didn't stand a chance.
One after another, they fell, unable to dodge the ferocious hail of death.
Within moments, the battlefield fell silent—every last marine lay dead, save for one.
Only Bruner remained.
Lawrence had spared him—not out of mercy. No, it was a calculated move. He needed information.
If the marines had already passed along sensitive intel, killing this one wouldn't help. But if they hadn't yet…
Then Bruner still had value.
He strode forward, his boots crunching over debris and ash, eyes cold as steel. He leveled his pistol at Bruner's head.
"Marine," Lawrence said icily. "If you don't want to die, tell me everything you know."
Bruner trembled, the barrel mere inches from his forehead. His knees buckled.
Lawrence had received a distress call from Orleans, warning him of an attack on the Orlean Family.
The timing couldn't be coincidence—the assault came less than a day after the release of confidential research data.
Lawrence didn't believe in coincidences. Not in the New World.
There was only one explanation: espionage. Someone in the experimental facility must have leaked the data—most likely a World Government spy.
How else could the navy have mobilized so swiftly?
Bruner's voice cracked as he pleaded, "No—no, don't kill me! I'll talk! I'll tell you everything!"
Lawrence's gaze sharpened. Coward. But that was fine—cowards spilled secrets the fastest.
He crouched down, pistol still pressed against Bruner's temple, his tone emotionless.
"Why did the Navy come here?"
Bruner felt the cold sweat trail down his back. His heart thundered in his chest.
One wrong word and he was dead.
But he couldn't tell the truth—couldn't admit he'd come to investigate the man who'd destroyed three major factions.
That would be suicide.
No, if there was even the faintest sliver of hope for survival, he had to cling to it.
He would fight tooth and nail, even if it meant dragging down every living creature on this island!
Since he couldn't reveal the truth, he used the Vinsmoke family as a shield.
So, in a trembling voice, he stammered, "N-News from Navy Headquarters says... the Orleans family on this island is connected to the Vinsmoke fami—"
Bang!
Before he could finish, a gunshot echoed through the ruins. Brunner's head burst like a melon, splattering red and white across the scorched ground.
A well-deserved death.
Lawrence lowered his smoking pistol, wiping the barrel clean of gore with a cold expression. He muttered, annoyed, "So the Navy did know something? Damn it… we have to move."
Then he froze.
"The data! Shit! I forgot to ask about the data!"
Cursing, Lawrence fired several more rounds into Brunner's corpse, venting his fury.
Staring at the ruined remains of the Orleans base, he already knew—there was no point going below. The underground facilities had been stripped bare. Whatever had been there was long gone.
He drew a deep breath, calming his rising rage.
"Less than an hour since Orleans sent the signal. Even if the Navy moved instantly, it would still take time to extract and relocate the data."
"When I arrived, the port was already sealed. That means the data hasn't left the island yet…"
His eyes narrowed. "The only possibility left is... the Navy branch base."
He scoffed, gaze sharpening like a blade.
"Navy… you'd better be sensible. Otherwise, don't blame me when I slaughter every last one of you on this island."
Meanwhile...
Back at the base, the perspective returned to Yuno.
Having finished wiping out everyone in the underground laboratory, Yuno advanced like a player clearing the next dungeon stage.
From the final room, he obtained a peculiar item—a crystal card, glowing faintly. According to the terrified researchers, it stored all the research data from the facility.
But that wasn't all.
He also looted some bizarre, high-tech equipment:
—A spear capable of discharging bolts of lightning.
—Jet-boots with propulsion vents.
—The strange pistol Orleans had used earlier.
—And a flamboyant cape that Yuno thought looked incredibly cheesy.
He raised an eyebrow.
'The original story hasn't even started yet… There's no way the Vinsmokes could have developed battle suits this early, right?'
He studied the gear with mild interest. These "toys" weren't particularly appealing to him—after all, he had cheats.
But for others?
These things were practically treasures.
And if something was valuable to others, that meant one thing—
Money.
Yuno, with empty pockets and a sharp mind, cracked a faint grin.
Even junk has value... if you know where to sell it.