Chapter 862: Chapter 862: I’ll Be Back in a Moment
Corrida Colosseum.
"In the Corrida Colosseum Battle Royale, three contestants have already secured their right to challenge the Donquixote Family!"
Amidst the thunderous roar of the crowd, Gatz, the announcer, shouted from the commentary platform, pointing toward the massive screen in the center of the arena.
The screen flickered, displaying the faces of Burgess, Bartolomeo, and Max in rapid succession.
"The winner of Block A: from the Blackbeard Pirates, the Champion, Jesus Burgess!"
"The contestant advancing from Block B: the captain of the Barto Club, the ’Cannibal,’ Bartolomeo!"
"And the victor of Block C: the Obsidian Archbishop of the Church of the Night, the ’Night Werewolf,’ Horkheimer Max!"
Gatz provided the play-by-play with mounting excitement. "Only three spots remain for the finals! Furthermore, the start of the Block D matches will be delayed by fifteen minutes due to severe damage to the ring. Bring out the replacement stage, immediately!"
As the Colosseum staff scrambled to swap the shattered stone for a fresh platform, the contestants remaining in the preparation room were abuzz with nervous energy.
Among the earlier participants, the likes of Kohl Goff, Bellamy the Hyena, Elizabello II, the giant mercenary Hajrudin, "Destruction Cannon" Ideo, and Sai, the leader of the Happo Navy... they were powerhouses, each stronger than the last. However, the three who had already punched their tickets to the finals were monsters among men, hardly human at all. This realization had dealt a crushing blow to the confidence of many remaining fighters.
Fortunately, they were veterans of the New World. They weren’t about to forfeit on the spot; most still clung to the hope that they might find an opening.
"Interesting. To think even the reclusive Church of the Night couldn’t sit still when the Flame-Flame Fruit is on the line. Max is moving personally, even at the risk of being hunted by us," Vito remarked, perched on the ledge of a large window. He watched Max return to the preparation room and made a provocative throat-slitting gesture toward him.
Max, clad in tattered clerical robes and clutching an obsidian scepter, didn’t so much as blink. He walked past as if Vito didn’t exist.
"Hehehe~"
Vito wasn’t offended. He simply bared his teeth and let out a dry chuckle.
Cavendish, elegantly dressed and sipping red wine, stared at the man for a moment before speaking coolly. "Don’t underestimate him. His strength is formidable. Back when Smythe Betilla, that madwoman, and I teamed up, we couldn’t take him down quickly."
He paused, then continued, "He’s a user of the Zoan-type, Mythical Zoan: Werewolf Fruit. I’ve heard that under a full moon, his power increases exponentially. He becomes truly terrifying."
Vito’s eyes gleamed with a predatory light. "A Mythical Zoan user... now I’m even more eager to see what he’s got. I wonder which is superior: my Thunder Basilisk or his Werewolf form!"
Mythical Zoans were a rare sub-class of the Zoan-type, representing creatures of myth and legend. Beyond the standard physical boosts of a Zoan, they granted unique supernatural abilities, making them rarer even than Logia types.
While creatures like dragons, vampires, werewolves, and medusae were widely known, Vito’s "Thunder Basilisk" was a different story. Legend spoke of its indestructible scales, immense physical power, and the ability to command lightning. However, the creature’s fame was limited, existing mostly in the folklore of remote city-states and tribes within primitive forests where it was worshipped as a totem.
In the wider world, most considered it a mere myth. In fact, before Vito ate the fruit, he hadn’t even heard of the Thunder Basilisk.
Nonetheless, obscure legends didn’t equate to weakness. On the contrary, Vito was an elite powerhouse even among the many cadres of the Chris Pirates. At the very least, if Cavendish didn’t manifest his second personality, Hakuba, he would have no chance of victory against Vito.
"So many strong people! Every kind of ability imaginable... this trip was definitely worth it!" an old man going by the name "Lucy" exclaimed in wonder.
"The sea truly never lacks for talent," muttered Gergiel Haunger, the swordsmanship master from the Aubrey Kingdom. He sat in a recliner, a look of brief satisfaction fading into a dark, brooding mask. "It’s all that bastard Roger’s fault. Starting this Great Pirate Era... if not for that, my dear apprentice wouldn’t have headed out to sea only to be killed. I wouldn’t be a lonely old man today!"
His gaze turned frigid as he stared at Vito and Cavendish nearby, his eyes brimming with murderous intent. "Chris T. Aeridar... you damn pirate. You took my beloved disciple from me. I’ll slaughter your subordinates and let you taste that same grief!"
"Vito-senpai! Cavendish-senpai!"
Tucked away in a corner, Bartolomeo’s eyes were misty and his cheeks flushed with fanatical devotion. He watched the two pirates from afar, trembling. "I really can’t get any closer... my legs just won’t listen! I’m too nervous! To think I’d actually see two seniors from the Chris Pirates in the flesh... they’re so cool!"
Overwhelmed with emotion, tears began to stream down his face, blurring his vision. "Darn it, I’ve got so many tears I can’t see the front!"
He then began to mutter feverishly to himself. "I must win the Flame-Flame Fruit. I’ll offer it as a gift to that lord... maybe then I’ll be accepted as a member of the Chris Pirates!"
"No! Wait! With Vito-senpai and Cavendish-senpai here, the Flame-Flame Fruit is practically theirs anyway. I should help them! I’ll make sure those two have the easiest time possible winning it..."
At this moment, Bartolomeo was nothing more than a hardcore fan meeting his idols.
In a shadowy corner of the room, two mysterious figures in black robes and animal masks sat huddled together.
The one wearing a lion mask lowered his head and whispered, "Pedro, I didn’t expect a mere combat tournament to attract this many powerhouses. Two cadres from the Chris Pirates, plus five from the Donquixote Family... no wonder those two lords chose not to strike during the assembly."
The figure in the leopard mask replied in a low voice, "Our mission is only to scout, Shishilian. The Chris Pirates are a true juggernaut. We’ve seen that man’s strength firsthand. We must be cautious... cautious, and cautious again!"
Soon, the fifteen minutes were up.
"Alright, we are ready to begin! Audience, are you prepared?!"
"The battle resumes! Contestants for Block D, please enter the arena!"
Gatz’s voice boomed through the speakers, echoing across the entire stadium.
In the preparation room, the fighters began to file out. Some were brimming with confidence, while others shouted provocations to psych themselves up.
"Ha! The Flame-Flame Fruit belongs to yours truly!"
"Keep dreaming! Bark while you still can!"
"You’re all trash! I’m the new master of the Flame-Flame Fruit!"
"Shut up! Once I’ve gutted you, you won’t be talking such nonsense!"
Cavendish gracefully finished his last bite of steak and downed the remainder of his wine. He dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin, set down his cutlery, and rose slowly from his chair.
"It’s my turn," he said casually, glancing at his companions. "I’ll be back in a moment."
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