While the city guard scoured the capital for any sign of Bro, he had already slipped into the capital police headquarters' archives room—and located the files he was seeking.
"Damn it... who dares protect these assholes—and how many people have vanished? These cops must be eating shit."
Page after page confirmed what Buggy and Bro suspected: large numbers of people had disappeared—hundreds every month—especially in the capital. The trafficking ring had infiltrated the very system meant to prevent it.
What was worse, failures to punish traffickers were systemic: perpetrators were casually released under claims that "the facts no longer existed." This proved the corruption wasn't just deep—it was entrenched at the top.
Bro's thoughts turned to General Jesse—what if his superior was implicated? Rage boiling inside him, Bro rifled through more files.
Back at headquarters, a lookout reported:
"General, Bro's trail leads toward the police HQ—and then vanishes."
Jesse's face flickered with concern.
"Dispatch troops immediately. We're moving to the archives room."
He understood: Bro must have gone there for a reason. It wasn't surrender or hiding; he had gone to access the files. And there was only one reason to go there: evidence of the ring.
Though many files had been altered, the patterns of missing persons and manipulated records were too strong to ignore. Bro likely uncovered enough to expose the trafficking operation… and possibly implicate top officials.
The city guard mobilized rapidly.
Meanwhile, in the archives room, Bro—alert as ever thanks to his Animal Devil Fruit (Owl model)—heard approaching voices. His senses pinged the incoming threat: the guards closing in.
Despite the danger, Bro still refused to flee. He wanted an answer. He had no chance to survive in his wounded state. The guard was closing in.
"Bro! Come out and surrender! The General is here—you won't get away!"
One of Jesse's lieutenants called from outside the room.
Bro stood his ground.
"General, would you come inside? I have questions… about that matter."
Jesse recognized what "that matter" was—he weighed responding. Whether going inside was cowardice or a trap, Bro's next steps carried weight.
He entered.
Inside, he found Bro staring at him, eyes burning with resolve and betrayal mixed with physical pain.
Jesse now realized the truth: Bro had discovered something, and it hurt deeply.
"Why… why would someone in your position chase power and money like this? You shouldn't..." Jesse's voice trailed off.
"So stop meddling. This isn't your place—or is it fear of the consequences?"
Bro's voice remained steady.
"I don't fear death. I just needed answers. After years of service… I deserved that much clarity from you."
Jesse let out a bitter laugh and replied:
"I can't… I can't say more. But let me tell you this— their so‑called sacrifices… made huge contributions to the Kingdom. It's their highest honor to die for this."
A madness sparked in Jesse's eyes. This was no reasoning. It was devotion to a dark cause.
"What vile bullshit is this?" Bro spat.
"Your 'contributions'? You offer innocent villagers as sacrifices? They were our citizens, not livestock!"
His anger
strummed raw. Time warped. Bro loved his country. But what he'd discovered no longer aligned.
"You've probably grown tired of the truth. Come then… fight. With everything you have."
With those words, Bro activated his Full-Beast Owl Form. He flew at Jesse with everything in his defense.
Jesse drew his blade. They charged at each other. Their final bout had begun—and only one would fall.
Bro's wounds slowed him, but his resolve gave steel to his descent.
Jesse—a top-level commander—chewed into Bro's final strike. After the blow, blood spilled from Bro's neck. He collapsed. Jesse stood over him.
"Your wounds were too severe."
As Bro lay dying, Jesse whispered:
"But your suffering isn't for nothing. This Kingdom… I will still guard it."
Bro exhaled his final breath. Regret and resolve mixed in his eyes. He died—honored in death, betrayed in life.