The sky over Marineford was dark and heavy, as if someone had splashed a basin of black ink across it.
Thousands of Marine soldiers stood in strict formation.
There was no joy of victory on their faces, only the numb, grim silence of those who had survived a disaster.
All eyes were fixed on the dozen or so temporary execution platforms set up in the center of the plaza.
Koby, along with dozens of other soldiers who had fled or abandoned their posts in fear during the Paramount War, knelt there with their hands tied behind their backs.
Their ranks had been stripped away.
They now wore the dull gray of prisoners.
Koby knelt at the very front, his pink hair drenched in cold sweat, sticking messily to his forehead.
His head hung low.
His body trembled uncontrollably from fear, and his teeth chattered violently.
He didn't dare look at the people around him,
those former comrades who now looked at him with a mixture of contempt and cold indifference.
At the edge of the plaza, behind the rubble of a collapsed wall, Garp stood motionless like a stone statue.
He wore no cloak of "Marine Hero" today.
Just a simple black suit.
His back was turned to the execution stand.
His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had gone white.
That broad back, once unshakable, now carried a sorrow and helplessness beyond words.
He could hear the wind.
He could hear the restrained breathing of the soldiers.
But he did not dare turn around and witness the final moments of the child he had once placed such hopes on.
At the very front, Akainu, stood like an iron tower, overseeing the execution personally.
His stern face carried no expression.
His eyes were colder than the seastone beneath his feet.
To him, this execution was not a tragedy, but a necessary ritual to enforce Absolute Justice and restore Marine authority.
All weakness and betrayal must be washed away with blood.
"Time's up."
Akainu's low, oppressive voice rolled across the plaza without the aid of a Den Den Mushi.
A military judge stepped forward, unrolling a scroll and reading the sentence in a cold, emotionless tone.
"Former marine Koby, and the following thirty-seven Marines, during the War for Marineford… abandoned their posts, fled the battlefield, severely harming morale and staining Marine honor. Their crimes warrant execution…"
Each word was like a heavy hammer, smashing the last sliver of hope in Koby's heart.
The reading of the sentence…
The wind…
The distant crashing of waves against the shore…
These sounds intertwined, forming an oppressive "noise" that squeezed the air from the plaza.
On the far roof of a supply warehouse, the furthest point from the execution grounds,
Renzo was sprawled out on a lounge chair he had somehow dragged up there, wrapped in a camel wool blanket Sanji had freshly dried for him.
His eyes were half-closed, and he held a freshly baked, still-warm hot-spring moss cookie.
He was just about to enjoy this rare "peaceful" morning,
peaceful only in comparison to the nonstop bombardment of the last few days.
But the ceremonial, overly formal, and extremely bothersome sound of the sentencing from the plaza irritated him greatly.
"Tch."
Renzo clicked his tongue, shoved the cookie into his mouth, and muttered through crumbs:
"If they're gonna execute them, just do it. Why so much talking? So noisy."
He chewed the cookie, glanced toward the execution platform, and saw the deserters starting to sob or growl in despair.
The crying.
The shouting.
Even more annoying.
"Can't they just… end it quietly?"
The moment the thought formed,
his Devil Fruit responded automatically, as if following a command from his soul.
He didn't bother standing up.
Still lying down, he lazily waved his hand in the direction of the plaza.
[Embodiment of Sloth: Lazy King's Peace]
A faint, misty gray fog, barely visible, spread softly from Renzo's body.
It had none of the crushing force of Conqueror's Haki,
none of the heat of Akainu's magma.
It was gentle… yet irresistibly pervasive.
As it drifted toward the execution plaza, the sound of the wind seemed to weaken.
The metallic clinks of armor became muffled.
The military judge's once-loud voice suddenly faltered, growing weak and sluggish, as if his energy were being drained.
He let out a massive yawn, the last part of the sentence stuck in his throat, unintelligible.
Akainu's brows knitted sharply.
He immediately sensed the familiar, and extremely irritating, wave of "sloth energy."
He snapped his head toward the warehouse roof, instantly locking onto Renzo.
But it was already too late.
The gray "lazy mist" had descended like a living veil, gently covering the entire execution area.
The deserters' faces still showed fear and despair, but their trembling stopped unnaturally.
An overwhelming wave of drowsiness, rising from the depths of their souls, washed over them.
Even thinking about death suddenly felt far too troublesome.
Koby's sobbing stopped.
He slowly lifted his head, his eyes unfocused, as if he were seeing a peaceful starry sky.
"Execute!"
Akainu roared, trying to shatter the strange atmosphere.
The executioners on both sides moved at once.
They raised their spears high, aiming for the deserters' hearts.
But under the influence of the sloth aura, their movements became slow and heavy,
like playing out a long, distorted slow-motion scene.
Yet their strikes remained perfectly accurate.
No shouting.
No commands.
No final pleas.
Only the dragged-out, muffled sound of spears cutting through the air.
Pcht.
The sound of blades entering flesh was absorbed by the sloth aura,
reduced to something as soft as tearing fabric.
No screams.
No struggle.
Koby and the others didn't even feel pain.
Their consciousness faded instantly into ultimate sloth and peace.
Their bodies fell forward without resistance,
their expressions calm, almost serene.
The entire execution was terrifyingly quiet.
It felt less like a brutal public execution, and more like a solemn, wordless farewell.
Behind the plaza, Garp, who had expected gunshots, screams, chaos, heard nothing.
Only deathly silence.
Stiffly, painfully, he turned around.
And saw Koby's body on the ground, motionless.
Lifeless.
A grief too heavy for words struck him like a physical blow.
Worse than any scream.
Worse than the sound of gunfire.
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
Only hot tears streamed down his wrinkled face, falling silently into the rubble at his feet.
Akainu glared at Renzo in the distance, his fists cracking audibly from the pressure.
The execution had succeeded, but being interfered with so blatantly filled him with a fury he had never known.
Yet he did not act.
Because he knew, for that lazy bastard…
This probably really was just because he thought it was too noisy.
After the execution ended, the gray "lazy mist" receded like a silent tide.
Sounds returned to the plaza.
The soldiers stared at the quietly fallen deserters, awe and shock written across their faces.
Renzo yawned, utterly uninterested in his own "achievement."
He patted the blanket, lay down again, and resumed his peaceful morning.
"Finally over."
He mumbled, turned onto his side, and moments later, his even breathing signaled he was already asleep.
"Sanji…for lunch, add extra honey to the roast."
.....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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