"Barrier!"
"Barrier Knuckles!"
"Impact Barrier!"
"Barrier Ball!"
"Barrier—Rampaging Bull Charge!"
Attack after attack roared toward Davy.
And yet, Davy only looked more and more relaxed.
Soon, he didn't even bother using the Smooth-Smooth Fruit to redirect attacks—
he simply stepped aside, smooth and unhurried, weaving between the blows as if strolling through a garden.
Finally, Bartolomeo hunched over, panting heavily, hands braced against his knees.
His eyes trembled as he stared at Davy—
as though he were staring at a monster wearing human skin.
At the start of the battle, Davy's movements were stiff, his footwork clumsy, and he often relied on his Devil Fruit ability to block what he couldn't avoid.
But the longer the fight dragged on, the sharper Davy became.
Eventually, Bartolomeo's attacks couldn't even graze the hem of his clothes.
He's getting stronger—
no, he's still experimenting with techniques.
Bartolomeo ground his teeth.
As the underworld king of these waters, he had never endured such humiliation.
"Damn rat bastard!
All you can do is dodge, yeah?!"
It was pure, helpless rage.
His Barrier-Barrier Fruit excelled at defense, not offense.
He firmly believed that as long as the other guy chose to attack, he'd eventually expose a weakness.
Meanwhile, Davy had already lost interest.
His evasive exchanges had given him a brand-new understanding of Soru and Geppo.
Now Bartolomeo couldn't offer him pressure anymore—
continuing would bring no further improvement.
"So eager to die?"
"Hehahahaha! You think you can kill me? Then go on—try it, yeah?!"
To Bartolomeo, it was the funniest joke in the world.
Sure, he couldn't beat this kid.
But there was no way this pretty-faced brat could break his invincible barrier.
"Rankyaku."
Davy flicked his leg, and a massive wind blade hurtled toward him.
Bartolomeo didn't panic this time.
He curled his index and middle fingers again.
"Barrier!"
The wind blade smashed into the transparent wall, stirring a violent gale and screeching like metal on glass.
A terrifying attack—
enough to cut a human clean in half.
But…
The barrier didn't budge.
Not even a scratch.
"Hehahahaha! That's all you've—"
Bartolomeo's laughter cut short.
His pupils shrank.
"Barrier Ball!"
The barrier twisted into a sphere around him.
"—!!!"
A deafening clang erupted as a blade slammed into the back of the sphere, mere centimeters from his skull.
The impact rattled his brain, pain shooting through his ears.
Forcing his vision to focus, he looked up—
Davy's right arm was gone.
Severed clean at the shoulder.
No blood.
No mangled flesh.
As if the limb had never existed.
What… what is that?
Bartolomeo froze.
Only Devil Fruits could produce such unnatural effects.
But this brat—he'd already shown the power of another fruit earlier!
How?!
A person could only eat one fruit.
Eating two meant bursting apart from the conflicting devils.
He knew this rule.
Every Devil Fruit user did.
He didn't have time to piece it together.
A storm of attacks crashed onto the barrier from every angle.
Strong, weak, fast, slow—countless blows, impossible to track.
It felt like he was surrounded by an army.
No—
worse.
Mist had risen around him, thick and cold.
And in that fog burned dozens… no, hundreds… of ghostly emerald flames.
Not warm fire.
Not natural flame.
They flickered with chilling malice.
"G–Ghosts…?"
A shiver tore through him.
He remembered the stories—
souls of the dead unwilling to pass on.
Vengeful spirits that hunted the living.
The tales matched the scene before his eyes perfectly.
Suddenly, the fog twisted, shaping into a human face.
A familiar face.
It screamed silently as it slashed at the barrier, eyes full of hatred.
Bartolomeo's jaw fell slack.
He knew that face.
Alman.
One of his most trusted lieutenants.
A dead man—
now clawing at him from outside the barrier.
While Bartolomeo trembled like a child, Davy was completely at ease.
Killing Bartolomeo required two strategies.
Method One:
Restrain his hands so he couldn't form the crossed-finger gesture.
No gesture, no barrier.
Kill easily.
Method Two:
Use the universal weakness of every Devil Fruit user.
The sea.
Lucky for him, they were close to the shoreline.
And from the looks of that round barrier, it wasn't too heavy.
Under his command, the soul-servants attacked relentlessly.
The rolling barrier—ball-shaped and forced to remain so—tumbled like a kicked can, inching toward the coast.
Only now did Bartolomeo fully understand.
His face drained of color.
He couldn't drop the barrier—not while the ghosts savaged him.
And with Davy watching from the side for even the slightest opening, escape was impossible.
In desperation, he changed the barrier from sphere to cube—
but that only bought him seconds, not salvation.
"Damn it… damn it!
Is this it? Am I really gonna die?!"
Inside the box, Bartolomeo spun in circles, panic consuming him.
The ocean was only meters away now.
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