If the heart was destroyed, the immortality granted by Lord Imu would stop working.
Then, they would truly die.
That fear was exactly the opening Beam had been waiting for.
...
A shark fin surfaced from the ground without warning.
Beam's upper body burst through the stone pavement like a projectile, launching straight at Nusjuro.
As a shark fiend, Beam could freely swim through solid ground. But he hadn't revealed this ability since the battle began. He'd been waiting for this exact moment.
The payoff was solid. Caught off guard, Nusjuro's reactions lagged by half a beat.
CHOMP.
Beam's massive shark jaws clamped down hard on Nusjuro's chest.
In his skeletal horse-bone form, most of Nusjuro's body was bone structure, but the area around his heart was still covered in flesh and blood.
Beam's teeth pierced straight through that layer of meat and wedged into the gaps between ribs. He clamped down and refused to let go.
"You're asking for it!"
Nusjuro's face twisted in shock. He whipped Kitetsu I around in a flash of steel.
SLASH.
Beam's body was cleaved in two at the waist.
Upper and lower halves separated. Blood and innards gushed from the open wound.
But his teeth stayed clamped on Nusjuro's chest, locked tight.
RRRIP.
A chunk of flesh was torn free.
A fist-sized bloody hole opened in Nusjuro's chest, revealing something metallic glinting inside, pulsing with each beat.
A steel heart.
Identical to Garling's.
"Got it!"
Yu Ishigami caught the flash of metallic gloss from the corner of his eye while trading blows with Mars midair. He reversed his grip on the gun and fired.
Aimed directly at the exposed steel heart.
BANG.
The bullet screamed through the air, streaking toward Nusjuro's chest.
Nusjuro panicked.
He didn't even bother with Beam's remains hanging off his chest. Hands fumbling, he raised Kitetsu I to deflect the shot.
But his movements were sloppy. Fear had crept into his fingers.
TING.
The bullet struck Kitetsu I's blade.
But Nusjuro's grip failed him.
The Supreme Grade sword slipped from his palm and tumbled through the air in a graceful arc.
CLATTER.
It landed at someone's feet.
Makoto looked down at Kitetsu I on the ground.
Then raised his gaze to Nusjuro.
The old man stood frozen in place, trembling, eyes locked on the sword at Makoto's feet.
He'd started to reach for it. But halfway through the motion, he caught sight of Makoto's crimson eyes, and his arm locked up in midair.
Makoto studied the old man's cowardice. His expression shifted from disappointment to boredom.
"Pathetic."
Makoto drove his foot forward in a single explosive stomp, straight into the steel heart.
BANG.
Nusjuro's face contorted into an unrecognizable mess of agony.
His body launched backward like a severed kite string, slamming into the ruined palace rubble and embedding deep into the debris.
"Too easy."
Makoto didn't even bother looking at Nusjuro again.
His gaze swept past the Five Elders and settled on the half-demolished Pangaea Castle.
Disappointment deepened on his face.
These so-called Five Elders. The Holy Knights of God. Supposedly the World Government's supreme fighting force. And the reality?
Underwhelming strength. Immortality with a fatal flaw.
What a letdown. Seriously, did they even deserve to fight him?
He'd expected this trip to the Holy Land to be entertaining. Instead, these people were weaker than imagined.
Ridiculous.
"Hey, Imu."
Makoto's voice rang out like a death knell across the battlefield, reaching every ear in the World Government's ranks.
"Come out already. These trash subordinates of yours aren't even worth playing with."
Pangaea Castle stayed silent. No response.
After a few seconds, Makoto smiled.
"Fine."
He held up one finger.
"I'll count to three. Listen up."
"If you come out on the first count, all you have to do is lick my shoes, and I'll let you go."
The faces of the Five Elders went pale in unison.
"If you come out on the second count..."
Makoto glanced at the Fab Four, who were practically vibrating with anticipation, and wore an expression straight out of Yujiro Hanma's playbook.
"I'll let these four fuck you. Again and again and again."
The Fab Four's heads swiveled in perfect unison toward Pangaea Castle, four pairs of eyes blazing with identical hunger.
"And if I reach three..."
Makoto didn't finish the sentence.
He just smiled.
That smile was more terrifying than any threat.
Everyone held their breath.
"One."
The word dropped like a hammer on every nerve in the plaza.
Pangaea Castle remained silent.
Cold sweat beaded on the brows of the Five Elders.
The surviving Holy Knights trembled.
Behind Garp, some Marines began backing away.
Makoto's side:
Yu Ishigami's expression stayed flat, but his eyes sharpened to a killing edge.
Beam cracked his knuckles, joints popping.
The Fab Four flashed matching, dangerous grins.
"Two."
Still no movement from Pangaea Castle.
Both the Marines and the World Government forces nearly buckled.
Makoto's subordinates grew more dangerous, more bloodthirsty.
"Lord Imu..."
One of the Five Elders murmured.
Makoto clicked his tongue and opened his mouth again.
The third number was about to leave his throat.
In that moment...
BOOM!!!
A violent, suffocating burst of Supreme King Haki erupted from deep within the ruins of Pangaea Castle.
Not a gradual spread.
An explosion.
Crimson-black energy burst from the cracks in the castle like a nuclear detonation, shooting skyward.
The sky changed color.
The firelit night sky was swallowed by a dark, crimson-black hue.
Everyone present, including Garp, felt a pressure crushing down from somewhere deep in their souls.
Garp's pupils contracted.
He could feel it. This wasn't ordinary Supreme King Haki.
What arrived ahead of the Haki was fire.
Dark crimson-black flames poured from the ruins of Pangaea Castle.
Wherever the flames touched, black buildings seemed to become possessed, eyes sprouting across their surfaces, emitting piercing, shrieking laughter.
The Haki receded, revealing the figure at its center.
St. Nerona Imu.
Founder of the World Government.
One of the Original Twenty.
The man called "King of the World."
Dark skin. White hair. Androgynous features. Long, pale hair obscuring the left eye.
The crimson-black energy wreathed Imu's body like living creatures, circling and slithering around the frame.
Garp's eyes went wide.
He'd dealt with the Five Elders for decades. This was the first he'd known there was a power above them.
The first time he'd laid eyes on the World Government's true ruler.
The Marines exchanged bewildered glances, shock and confusion written across every face.
The four surviving Elders bowed in unison.
"Lord Imu."
Imu didn't look at them.
That gaze was fixed on one person alone.
The man sitting with one leg crossed over the other, lounging in a chair hauled from god knows where.
Yu Ishigami stood behind him, arms crossed, face blank.
Beam and the Fab Four flanked him on both sides, soaked in blood but still wearing those skin-crawling smiles.
The man in the chair:
Makoto Nishikado.
His expression hadn't changed at all.
If anything, there was a faint trace of amusement.
The kind of look you'd give a clown.
Imu's opinion of this man was exactly that.
Step by step, Imu walked toward Makoto.
The crimson energy swirling around the body dragged a long trail behind.
Hope flickered in the eyes of the remaining Five Elders.
The surviving Holy Knights held their breath.
The Marines still didn't dare move.
Everyone was waiting.
Waiting for the clash between the King of the World and this insolent man.
Imu drew closer.
Makoto sat in the chair, motionless.
When Imu was less than two meters away, he finally spoke.
"Fuck you."