"Well, well… Didn't think you guys actually cared that much about saving the innocent,"
Arthur said with a faintly mocking smile.
"Here's the deal.
This little trick of mine—Thunder's Descent—will hit in fifteen minutes.
I'm sure you can handle it… so long as you stop getting in my way and focus everything you've got on stopping it.
That should be plenty of time, right?"
Akainu's face twisted in rage and humiliation.
So this was how it was going to end—
he couldn't stop the man. Not today.
For a long moment, the entire Marine side fell silent.
They all understood what Arthur was saying.
If they wanted any chance at survival, they had to let him go.
If they angered him now and he dropped that thunderball early…
there'd be nothing left but ash.
"So," Arthur said lazily,
"what's it gonna be? Fourteen minutes left."
The three Admirals exchanged looks, reading the same helplessness in each other's eyes.
They knew the only path was to let him leave—
but none of them wanted to be the one to say it.
Minute after minute slipped by.
The tension was suffocating.
When the timer hit ten minutes, a thunderous roar shattered the silence.
"GET OUT!"
Vice Admiral Garp's voice boomed across the battlefield.
Rage and shame poured out with that single word.
The Marines had been humiliated—again.
He turned sharply to his men, veins bulging on his forehead.
"All hands—focus everything you've got on that lightning sphere!
Bring it down!"
"Yes, sir!"
The officers nearly collapsed in relief; someone had finally taken responsibility.
They rallied instantly, unleashing every ounce of their power toward the sky.
Arthur smiled faintly.
"See you around."
A crackle of electricity—
a flicker of light—
and he was gone.
He vanished into the sea like a phantom.
Beneath the waves, Arthur sped deeper and deeper, his mind still buzzing.
Damn, that was close.
He'd just outplayed the Marines again—
and this time, even he almost burst out laughing underwater, nearly choking on seawater.
On the surface, Garp stood rigid, watching the ripples where Arthur had disappeared.
"That brat… he actually got us again."
He clenched his fists, trembling with fury.
"We've been played like fools.
If this keeps up, the Marines' reputation will be worth less than seaweed."
He sighed heavily, shoulders slumping.
Turning to the three Admirals—each looking like they'd just swallowed poison—he started to speak.
"Alright, enough moping. Let's at least stop that thund—"
He froze.
"Huh?"
"Wait… what the hell?"
Because the massive lightning sphere that had been hanging ominously above them…
was gone.
Completely gone.
Dispersed into harmless wisps of static.
Arthur's thunderball had never been real.
They'd been bluffed.
"That bastard—he played us!"
The realization hit like a cannon to the chest.
Akainu went rigid, his face purple with fury.
Blood surged up his throat—
"Pffft—!"
He spat a mouthful of blood, stumbling, nearly fainting from sheer rage.
The gathered Marines looked utterly crushed.
To be tricked not by strength, but by sheer audacity—
it stung worse than defeat.
Their morale shattered.
No one spoke.
The mighty Marine Headquarters, which had mobilized its full force,
had once again been made a laughingstock.
And high above, circling the skies, a News Coo flapped its wings, its beady eyes gleaming mischievously as it carried the story of their humiliation to the world.
Garp sighed again, his face weary, his posture suddenly much older.
"...Pack it up," he said quietly.
"We're going home.
Time to take our beating from Sengoku."
The Admirals bowed their heads, shame written across their faces.
No one argued.
One by one, the Marines filed back to their warships—
silent, defeated, and humiliated.
Thus ended the Sabaody Archipelago Incident.
The Dawn Pirates had escaped Marine Headquarters' full-force encirclement unscathed.
Their achievements spread like wildfire:
Arthur — slain one Celestial Dragon, fought and defeated Silvers Rayleigh, killed eight Marine officers, injured thirty-two,
and battled Vice Admiral Garp and the three Admirals simultaneously—emerging alive and victorious.
Redfield — annihilated fifty members of the Celestial Dragon Guard.
The Dawn Crew — seized 2.6 billion Berries in spoils.
Another impossible legend was born.
Meanwhile, far beneath the waves…
"You think the Captain's alright?" Waldo asked, frowning.
He wasn't the only one worried.
Carmen clutched her apron nervously, eyes wide with anxiety.
But Redfield just reclined in his deck chair, polishing his sword Bloodrain with unhurried grace.
Even Crocodile, cigar in hand, seemed perfectly calm, staring at the shimmering seafloor as if admiring a painting.
Their composure only made Waldo and Carmen more anxious.
"Aren't you worried at all?" Carmen burst out.
"If something happens to him, I— I couldn't live with myself!"
Redfield chuckled softly.
"Relax, Carmen.
Our captain will be fine.
Now, if you wouldn't mind… a cup of tea, please."
She hesitated.
"Really?"
"Really."
Still doubtful, she sighed, gave him one last look, and shuffled toward the galley.
Waldo turned back to Redfield, his face hardening.
"Tell me honestly—
are you planning to ditch the Captain just to get your hands on the Devil Fruit?"
His gaze sharpened like a blade.
If Redfield so much as twitched wrong, Waldo was ready to fight.
But the vampire merely smiled faintly, unbothered.
"You should have more faith in our captain."
"But—!"
Crocodile's voice drifted over, calm and smoky.
"Waldo, loyalty's fine.
But try using your brain once in a while."
"What did you just say, Crocodile?!" Waldo snapped, eyes narrowing.
Crocodile ignored him, taking a slow drag of his cigar and exhaling a perfect smoke ring.
He accepted a cup of coffee from Carmen on her way back, nodded approvingly, and said,
"Thanks."
Then, turning back to Waldo, he continued evenly,
"Think about it.
In all the time we've sailed with him—
has the Captain ever once lost?"
Waldo blinked, then frowned.
"No."
"Do you think he's stupid?"
"Of course not!"
"Then do you really think someone like him would ever get cornered?"
Waldo froze—then slowly shook his head.
"Exactly," Crocodile said with a smirk.
"Everyone who's ever crossed our captain… ends up worse off for it.
He doesn't lose.
He doesn't know how to lose."
He leaned back, flicking his ash away.
"So stop worrying.
You'll see soon enough."
And for the first time that day—
Waldo believed him.
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