Silver's figure followed closely behind, but he vanished into the shadows the moment he landed. He was like a grim reaper moving through the battlefield. Every time he appeared, a group of marines would fall. His attacks were silent yet precise and deadly, specifically targeting the enemy's command system and heavy firepower points, creating far more chaos and panic than a frontal assault.
Dolum, shouldering his giant axe, acted like a moving wall, clearing a path for his comrades. Ordinary swords and blades only created a shower of sparks when they hit him, unable to even break his skin. While swinging his axe to send enemies flying, he also acted like a professional architectural critic, pointing out the flaws in the fortress's structure. "The foundation is decent, but the concrete grade is not high enough. The load-bearing capacity is a bit lacking." "Tsk, tsk, they skimped on the steel reinforcement in these walls. No wonder they cracked on impact."
Rocks and Newgate followed leisurely behind, as if strolling through their own backyard. They didn't even need to make a move. The Conqueror's Haki emanating from them was enough to make most of the ordinary marines' hearts seize with fear, their eyes rolling back as they fainted. "Gurararara, these little brats can't take a beating at all," Newgate yawned, seeming a little bored.
In the command tower, Vice Admiral Gion watched the惨状 on the surveillance Den Den Mushi, his face turning ashen. He knew that conventional defenses had completely lost their meaning. "All officers of Lieutenant Commander rank and above, gather at the central square immediately! Activate the Iron Wall protocol!" Gion roared out his final command. "I will face them myself!" He tore off his Vice Admiral's coat, revealing a body of lean muscle underneath, covered in狰狞 scars. As the commander of G-8, he was no mere paper tiger, but a master of hand-to-hand combat who had been through countless battles.
However, on this chaotic battlefield, one person's movements were completely out of sync with everyone else's.
Ren.
After jumping off the ship, he didn't participate in any combat. He just carried a plain-looking food box, avoided all the battle zones, and walked straight toward the largest building inside the fortress—the Marine cafeteria—like a lost passerby. Ren's goal was clear: to inspect the enemy's kitchen and food stores.
A few Marine lieutenants, who had been scattered by the aftershocks of the battle and were about to regroup, saw this lone child. They were stunned at first, then overjoyed. "Get that kid! He must be the pirates' weak link!" "A little brat dares to come to a battlefield? He's asking for death!" Three Marine lieutenants immediately changed direction and charged toward Ren in a pincer formation, their faces twisted in a greedy grin.
Ren stopped and looked at the three men rushing toward him, his brow furrowing slightly. "The kitchen is a sacred place. No idlers allowed," Ren said calmly.
"Huh? What nonsense is this kid talking!" The lead lieutenant was already in front of Ren, his long sword swinging down at his head, showing no mercy just because he was a child.
Ren didn't dodge. Just as the blade was about to hit him, he took a small step to the side. At the same time, the food box in his hand swung upward at an incredible angle. BAM! The hard bottom of the food box slammed squarely into the lieutenant's chin. With a dull thud, the lieutenant's eyes rolled back. He fell backward, spitting out a mouthful of blood mixed with broken teeth.
The other two marines were shocked, their attack faltering. Ren didn't give them a chance to react. His small figure darted out like a civet cat, the food box in his hand becoming a blur. BAM! BAM! Two more dull impacts, and the remaining two marines followed their comrade's fate. One was hit in the temple, the other in the back of the neck. Both collapsed limply to the ground.
From beginning to end, Ren's expression didn't change at all, as if he had just swatted away three annoying flies. He glanced at the unconscious marines on the ground, then weighed the food box in his hand, seemingly quite satisfied with its hardness. It had been specially made for him by Dolum from leftover shipbuilding materials and was incredibly sturdy. "I told you not to disturb a chef at work," Ren muttered to himself and continued walking toward the building from which a faint smell of food was drifting.
Meanwhile, in the central square of the fortress, Vice Admiral Gion had gathered his last remaining elite forces and was facing the main force of the Rocks Pirates. "Rocks! Edward Newgate!" Gion's gaze was locked on the two figures, his body exuding a powerful aura. "This is a fortress of justice! We will not allow scum like you to run rampant here!"
Rocks didn't even bother to look at him. He simply raised a finger and flicked it in Gion's direction. "Noisy."
An invisible, immense force materialized out of thin air. Vice Admiral Gion's proud Armament Haki was like thin paper before this power. He was sent flying as if hit by a high-speed train, coughing up blood and crashing into the wall of the command tower behind him, creating a huge crater.
Utterly defenseless.
Rocks retracted his finger and yawned, bored. His gaze went past the terrified marines and toward the cafeteria. "I wonder if the Head Chef has found any good ingredients. I'm getting a little hungry."
The fall of the G-8 fortress was faster and more complete than anyone could have imagined. When Vice Admiral Gion, the highest commander of the branch, was sent flying by a single flick of Rocks's finger and embedded in the wall of the command tower, his life unknown, all resistance in the fortress collapsed. The remaining marines completely lost their will to fight. They dropped their weapons and squatted on the ground with their heads in their hands, their faces filled with fear and despair.
This assault was less of a battle and more of a one-sided beatdown of a kindergarten by a group of adults.
The members of the Rocks Pirates began to cheerfully clean up the battlefield, or rather, conduct an organized and disciplined armed looting. "Wahahaha! We're rich! We're rich!" Gatz kicked open the door to the fortress's treasury and saw the mountains of Beli and gold inside. His eyes turned into Beli symbols. Like a mouse in a rice granary, he carried sack after sack of money to the ship, muttering, "Now we can buy lots and lots of meat!"
Dolum was like a treasure-hunting craftsman, knocking and tapping around the fortress ruins. He dismantled several intact heavy cannons, preparing to install them on his ship. He also plundered a large amount of high-strength alloy steel plates from the armory, planning a full-scale upgrade for the ship's hull. To him, these military-grade materials were far more attractive than gold and Beli.
Silver was more direct. He infiltrated Vice Admiral Gion's office and took a thick stack of documents from the safe, including the latest sea charts of the area under G-8's jurisdiction, the Marine's force deployment maps, and some classified internal World Government intelligence. The value of this intangible wealth was far greater than money.
And at this moment, the most sacred place in the entire fortress—the rear kitchen of the Marine cafeteria—had been completely taken over by Ren. He paced back and forth in the huge kitchen like a king inspecting his domain. The original chefs were all huddled in a corner, trembling, not daring to even breathe loudly.
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