Suddenly, Komisia's eyes widened as she stared intently at Shirahoshi inside the cage.
"What are you looking at?" Lalia asked, confused.
"There's something on Shirahoshi's chest!" Komisia said, her tone suspicious. She turned around to get a better view from behind the girl huddled in the corner.
Hearing this, the other female agents crowded around.
Terrified, Shirahoshi shrank further back, but it was too late — they spotted it: beneath her white silk dress, a golden cross‑shaped mark was glowing brightly against her skin.
Having spent so much time on Amazon Lily, Komisia recognized it instantly. "That cross… it's one of Grimm's symbols!"
A cold sense of foreboding rose in her chest. "What on earth is this?"
"It's the Mark of the Grand Knight — or simply put, my mark."
In an instant, a beam of golden light descended and landed right on top of the cage.
At the same moment, the glow on Shirahoshi's chest dimmed and faded away.
"G‑Grimm?!" Komisia gasped, her pupils shrinking in shock behind her glasses.
"Lord… Father!" Shirahoshi shifted her soft body and moved a little away from the corner.
"How is he here? We were told he was still fighting Zephyr and Garp!"
"We only took Princess Shirahoshi a few hours ago — and he's already caught up?!"
The agents gritted their teeth in disbelief. They had thought this would be the greatest, most flawless mission of their careers — but now, that hope was completely shattered.
Grimm's gaze shifted to the lock mechanism on the cage. Raising Ashbringer, he sliced through it with one clean strike.
At his signal, Shirahoshi scrambled out and dove straight into the sea.
"Haaa…"
Shirahoshi pressed both hands over her small chest. Though she did not cry, she had been trembling with overwhelming fear the whole time.
"Traitors and betrayers come in many forms — and I have seen both."
Grimm stepped down from the top of the cage, his expression calm yet cold as he met their terrified stares.
"So tell me — what is the usual fate of those who betray others?"
---
A few minutes later, Grimm walked to the bow of the now blood‑stained ship, took the wheel himself, and set a course toward Mary Geoise.
These people were definitely working for the World Government, and the only place they would deliver their prize was the Holy Land — he was certain of it.
"Shirahoshi — stay close to your old man," Grimm said casually. Calling myself "old man" fits well enough, he thought.
After all, I'm basically a foster father now… and this fox‑hood makes it look even more true.
"Yes, Lord Father!" Shirahoshi replied softly, then swam alongside the vessel.
Belonging to the fastest‑swimming race in the world, and blessed with her own immense natural gifts, even at only five years old she could outpace any warship afloat.
---
Two hours later, aboard two warships flying the World Government's flag, an agent in standard issue uniform raised his spyglass and peered ahead. His face lit up with excitement.
"It's the Golden Python and her group! Their ship is here — get ready to receive them!"
Spandine, the Cipher Pol commander in charge of the handoff, stood up eagerly and shouted, "At last! We've done it — hahaha!"
He knew the stakes: if they successfully secured one of the Ancient Weapons, his standing within the Government would soar.
But as the ship drew closer, the smiles froze on every agent's face.
Instead of the Golden Python standing at the bow, they saw a figure draped in white fur with a fox‑shaped hood — no, not a fox at all, but the ruler of these waters: Grimm.
And across the deck and rigging, rows of glowing golden crosses jutted upward.
Impaled upon their sharp points were the bodies of the very female agents sent to infiltrate Amazon Lily and kidnap the Sea King.
What a brutal end…
Even hardened killers like Spandine and his men felt a wave of cold dread wash over them.
"Retreat! Turn back — retreat immediately!" Spandine screamed.
Overcome with panic, he stumbled and fell flat on the deck, scrambling uselessly while shouting only one word: "Retreat!"
Of course — facing one of the Four Emperors with such a small force? Staying meant certain death.
"World Government… let this be your lesson. There are things you have no right to touch."
From beneath the fox‑hood, Grimm's face remained hidden in shadow.
---
Meanwhile, as soon as Hancock and her crew saw Grimm's beam of light pass overhead, they turned their fleet around and rushed back toward Amazon Lily.
But without knowing which direction the kidnappers had taken, she had no choice but to send scouts in every direction to search the seas.
Two full days passed. Garp and Zephyr, each leading two warships, sailed past Amazon Lily and continued back along their original route.
They found no sign of a Government attack on the island — instead, they encountered Hancock and her forces sweeping the waters, searching for Grimm.
When the two groups met, both sides chose to avoid conflict and act as if they had not seen each other.
Hancock knew she could not win a fight against them and remained silent; Garp and Zephyr, in turn, were far more concerned with following Grimm's trail and uncovering the Government's true intentions as they sailed toward the Red Line.
"Wait… what is that up ahead?"
Garp, who was still munching on a doughnut, suddenly froze. In the distance, two vessels bearing the World Government's flag came into clear view.
But both ships were heavily damaged. The proud cross emblem representing the Government's authority was torn and shattered like old rags, and fresh blood dripped from the sails and railings — proof that a fierce battle had just taken place.
Zephyr immediately ordered Dalmatian and his crew to speed up. The closer they drew, the more horrifying the sight became.
Blood flowed steadily across the decks, and the yardarms were lined with severed heads.
"What is the meaning of this?" Dalmatian frowned in confusion. "Some of these heads belong to Government agents, others to Kuja warriors."
"Without a doubt — this is Grimm's work," Zephyr said, his expression grim. He placed a hand over his chest. "I know exactly what he is capable of."
"Ugh… ghh…"
A faint, pained groan drifted across the water. Everyone turned toward the sound.
Impaled on a golden cross fixed to the side of the ship was a middle‑aged man in a black suit and light gray cloak, barely clinging to life.
It was Spandine, the Cipher Pol officer in charge of the handoff.
"Get him down and treat his wounds!" one Marine called out.
But Garp narrowed his eyes and sighed. "It's too late — or at least, too late for us to save him."
"Sir?"
As the others stared in confusion, the ship's doctor examined the injury and shook his head.
"I don't recognize the technique used, but the spike has pierced straight through his heart. Even if we cut it off or pull it out, the damage is already fatal."
__________________
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