The Greatest Disgrace in Marine History-Chapter 240 - 142: People’s Dream

Mock Town, Jaya Island.

"What's that in the sky...?"

"Pfft, probably a bird, dumbass."

"No, not a bird! It's too fast!! That's a person!!"

"A person? In the sky? Will, you been spending too much time at Layle's. Sure, her ass is something else, but you're straight-up hallucinating now."

BOOM.

A streak of silver light slammed into the earth, sending shockwaves through the ground and kicking up a thick cloud of dust.

The pirates, still in the middle of banter, stood frozen. Dust clung to their faces, eyes blinking in disbelief.

Then came the yelling.

"Damn it! Who the hell are you!?"

"You looking to die or something!?"

"Do you know who I am?! I'm One-Arm Vick, damn it!! A pirate with a 25-million berry bounty!!"

"You're screwed, pal!"

They shook off the dust and locked eyes on the figure emerging from the smoke, weapons drawn with a practiced hiss.

In the world of pirates, words mean nothing. Steel is the only argument.

"Oh? Pirates, huh..." The voice that answered was low and cold. "Just my luck. I'm not in a good mood today."

A massive shadow rose through the haze, towering over them.

"A Marine...?"

"From Headquarters?!"

"Damn, he's huge..."

They stared up at the three-meter-tall man. Dark hair. Sunken eyes. Gaunt face. One hand occasionally pressed to his lower back as if even standing was a chore.

But his presence was crushing. Bone-deep.

The one-armed pirate with dreadlocks forced a nervous laugh.

"Sir... I lost my temper just now. I meant no disres—"

A flicker of black.

A whisper of steel.

A fine red line traced itself across his neck before his head silently took flight, blood spraying like a geyser and splashing across his crewmates' pale, trembling faces.

For a breathless moment, there was only silence.

Then—

"Hssss—!!"

A wave of gasps rippled through the surrounding crowd.

They hadn't even seen him move.

One-Arm Vick. A pirate worth 25 million berries. Beheaded in a single stroke.

Only then did they notice the blade.

Floating beside the Marine was a sleek, jet-black katana, its surface etched with violet flame-like patterns.

Blood dripped along the edge—but instead of falling, it was being drawn inward. Absorbed. Until not a single drop remained.

"A... a demon blade..." someone muttered, voice cracking.

Thud.

Thud.

The remaining pirates dropped to their knees.

"Please, sir, we made a mistake!"

"We swear—we'll never pirate again!"

"Let us go... we beg you!"

The Marine looked at them with dispassionate eyes and shook his head.

"No. You're not sorry."

"You're just scared."

The pirates blinked.

Then their eyes hardened.

Without ever fully loosening their grip on their weapons, they lunged.

SHHNK.

The blade moved again—too fast to follow, like a phantom sweeping through their ranks.

The pirates froze mid-motion.

And then came the blood.

Thin lines appeared all over their bodies. Red bloomed across their clothes and skin. One by one, they fell.

Dead.

The cursed sword, Enma, flew back to its master, trembling with a sound like a purr. As if waiting to be praised.

Darren lit a cigarette and took a drag, then glanced at the blade.

"Don't even think about it. I'm barely holding myself together."

No way.

He was already running on fumes.

If Enma started siphoning again, he might not even stay upright.

"So... this is Mock Town on Jaya, huh?"

He exhaled a smoke ring and pulled a Log Pose from his coat, checking the needle's direction before looking around.

The crowd—locals and pirates alike—nodded furiously.

"Perfect."

Darren smirked.

The Log Pose was borrowed from Marine Headquarters. They held the largest and most detailed map archives in the world. Technically, one needed authorization to use these devices.

But rules never really applied to Darren.

A flashy reputation, a Commodore's rank, and a 500,000 berry "tip" had the intelligence officer personally delivering it with bowed head and trembling hands, gushing about Darren's greatness like a disciple.

"Well, first things first..." Darren muttered. "I'm starving."

The earlier scuffle didn't bother him.

Jaya was one of those lawless gray zones on the Grand Line—no government, no Marines, no rules. A pirate haven.

Back in the North Blue, these kinds of islands used to be common.

Used to be.

Until Darren's purges swept through them like wildfire.

Nowadays, even pirates paid taxes if they didn't want trouble.

Not that you could ever wipe them all out. Pirates would always exist.

Still, today's skirmish served another purpose: a chance to test his new move—Magnetic Blade Dominion.

And let's be honest: a Marine didn't need an excuse to kill pirates.

As for why he'd come to Jaya?

Simple.

The Sky Island. The City of Gold. And a Devil Fruit said to be invincible.

The Rumble-Rumble Fruit. A Logia.

But first... food.

Using the Magnet-Magnet Fruit to fly nonstop had burned through his stamina.

"Wonder if they've got good cherry pie here...?"

He thought about that classic moment from the original story and looked up at the endless blue sky, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

A man's dream never dies.

No doubt about it.

But—

"I can still cut your dream short."