Chapter 75: The Heist and the Dreadnought

Hi everyone guess who is back, back again!

😎

Sorry for the months long absence, family issues took longer than expected to sort out then I thought they would, and after that It took me a while to stock up on the chapters, but almost everything is kind of ok now and ill start posting chapters daily again this time hopefully uninterpreted till chapter 200.

Ill be posting 5 chapter today as a gift and apology to my readers for being away for so long.

And from tomorrow onwards I will be posting regularly.

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[Gwen’s POV]

Under the cover of night, the towering, pristine white walls of the Goa Kingdom’s High Town looked like a fortress designed to keep the filth of the world out.

“Alright, stay quiet,” Jasmine whispered, crouching behind a manicured hedge just outside the Royal Palace’s perimeter.

“Perona, you’re up.”

Perona floated a few inches above the perfectly trimmed grass, spinning her crimson parasol.

“Honestly, having me do the heavy lifting for a simple burglary.

You should all be grateful.” She raised her free hand, and a swarm of translucent, ghostly Negative Hollows phased silently out of her body, drifting right through the thick stone walls of the palace.

We waited exactly thirty seconds.

“Clear,” Perona announced with a smug grin.

We hopped the wall, landing silently in the marble courtyards.

The infiltration was almost comically easy.

As we walked through the luxurious, gold-trimmed corridors of the palace, we didn’t have to fight a single guard.

Instead, we stepped over dozens of heavily armored, elite Royal Guards who were collapsed on the marble floors, sobbing uncontrollably.

“I’m less than sea scum,” one guard wept, clutching his knees.

“I shouldn’t even be allowed to breathe this expensive air…”

Laura stepped over him, raising an eyebrow at Perona.

“That is a terrifying power.”

“I know, right?” Perona giggled.

We descended into the subterranean levels, reaching the heavy steel doors of the Royal Vault.

The hallway was protected by bobby traps and heavy electronic locks.

“My turn,” I said.

I let my focus slip, and the symbiote instantly responded.

The sleek, black-and-white liquid armor rippled over my skin, completely coating me and forming my mask.

I felt my body become fluid, shifting into a living, liquid shadow.

I dove forward, sliding effortlessly through the corridor.

My body contorted and compressed in ways a human skeleton couldn’t, bypassing the sensors entirely.

I reached the electronic keypad on the inside of the grid.

Extending a thin tendril of symbiote matter, I slipped it into the circuitry, shorting the localized alarm and manually disengaging the booby traps.

“Traps are down,” I said, the mask pulling back from my face.

Robin stepped up to the massive, multi-ton vault door.

It was secured by six heavy internal tumblers.

She didn’t look for a keypad or a key.

She simply crossed her arms.

“Cien Fleur,” Robin murmured.

Inside the thick steel door, I heard the heavy, metallic groans of gears being violently forced apart.

Robin was blooming dozens of hands directly onto the internal mechanisms, physically pushing the heavy tumblers into place with sheer, multiplied strength.

A second later, the massive vault door clicked heavily and swung open.

Inside, the room was blinding.

Mountains of gold coins, priceless artwork, and stolen artifacts from the Gray Terminal were piled high.

But sitting right in the center, resting on a red velvet pedestal under a spotlight, was a sleek, white-and-blue device that looked exactly like a high-tech fitness tracker, complete with a dark digital screen and a rubberized wristband.

“The Digivice,” Jasmine smiled, stepping into the vault and clipping the dormant device to her belt.

“Got it.

Let’s go.”

As we turned to leave, the sound of heavy boots echoed down the corridor.

A squad of elite noble guards, the ones stationed too deep to be hit by Perona’s ghosts, rounded the corner, leveling high-caliber flintlock rifles at us.

“Intruders!

Open fire!” the captain yelled.

“Laura,” Jasmine said casually, not even drawing her hammer.

“You want to leave a parting gift?”

Laura didn’t say a word.

A low, feral growl vibrated in her chest, and she launched herself forward like a cannonball.

She didn’t use her claws.

She didn’t need to.

In a blur of sheer, brutal kinetic force, she crashed into the squad.

She dismantled them without using lethal force, but the sickening crunch of shattering collarbones, dislocated shoulders, and shattered pride echoed through the corridor.

In less than five seconds, the entire elite squad was a groaning heap on the floor.

Laura wasn’t done.

She turned her attention to the open double doors of the kingdom’s private armory adjacent to the vault.

Her adamantium claws slid out with a harsh metallic SNIKT.

She waded into the armory, a whirlwind of indestructible metal.

She slashed through rows of rifles, cleaved heavy iron swords in half, and shredded the firing mechanisms of the kingdom’s artillery.

In less than a minute, she reduced thousands of weapons to completely useless scrap metal, ensuring the nobles couldn’t oppress the Gray Terminal quite as easily tomorrow.

Laura retracted her claws, walking out of the ruined armory with a satisfied smirk.

“I feel better.”

“Good,” Jasmine laughed, tossing a gold coin she swiped from the vault to Perona.

“Mission accomplished.

Let’s head back to Foosha Village, grab a drink at Makino’s, and wait for Victor and the crew to come pick us up.”

While the stealth team was securing the Digivice, the Titan’s Glory was hunting a dreadnought.

[Victor’s POV]

We were hovering high above the dark ocean, hidden within the cloud cover.

Standing at the bow, I looked down through the mist.

Tracking the massive, three-decked galleon of Don Krieg was remarkably easy, his ship was a gaudy, oversized target.

In the distance, illuminating the dark waters of the East Blue, was a massive, brightly lit ship shaped like a fish the floating restaurant, Baratie.

Krieg’s dreadnought was sailing aggressively straight toward it.

“Victor, we have visual on the target,” Law reported, stepping up beside me.

“He’s less than three miles from the restaurant.

If we engage with ship-to-ship artillery, the Baratie will be caught in the crossfire.”

“We aren’t using artillery,” I replied, my eyes fixed on the galleon below.

I simply reached through my tether to the Sky-Rift Roc overhead.

Mentally guiding the colossal jade bird, I pulled the Titan’s Glory into a steep, rapid descent.

The sheer scale of our Adam Wood battleship was absurd.

When we broke through the clouds and settled onto the ocean’s surface directly in Krieg’s path, the Titan’s Glory completely dwarfed his supposedly massive dreadnought.

The sudden, violent displacement of water created a massive wave that crashed over Krieg’s bow, forcing his crew to desperately drop anchor to avoid smashing into our hull.

“Let’s go,” I said.

Law, Brook, Gammamon, Palmon, and I jumped from the high deck of our ship, landing heavily on the main deck of Krieg’s galleon.

The East Blue pirates were already panicking, drawing cutlasses and aiming pistols.

Standing at the helm was Don Krieg himself, a massive man clad in heavy, gleaming golden armor.

“Who the hell are you?!” Krieg roared, his face twisting in rage as he glared at us.

“Do you have any idea who I am?!

I am Don Krieg!

The Fleet Admiral of the East Blue!

You just handed me the greatest ship I’ve ever seen!

Surrender your vessel, or I’ll wipe you off the face of the sea!”

To prove his point, Krieg reached into a compartment on his golden chest plate and pulled out a reinforced, glass-and-steel syringe.

It was filled with a vibrant, glowing blue liquid.

“You see this?!” Krieg boasted, holding the pure Compound V high in the air.

“It’s the ultimate poison!

I paid a fortune for this!

A single drop of this melts a man from the inside out in pure agony!

If you don’t surrender your ship right now, I’ll load it into a gas bomb and melt your entire crew!”

I didn’t even blink.

I just looked at Brook and the Digimon’s.

“Clear the deck.”

Brook stepped forward, his cane clicking softly against the wooden boards.

“Yohoho!

What a terribly rude host!”

Brook drew his cane sword Soul Solid.

He simply glided across the deck like a phantom.

The air temperature plummeted instantly.

He passed through Krieg’s elite commander, Pearl and Gin in a blur of freezing mist.

Before they could even raise their weapons, their bodies were completely encased in solid, thick blocks of glacial ice, frozen in place.

“Get them!

Fire the cannons!” Krieg screamed at his remaining crew.

“Poison Ivy!” Palmon shouted happily.

Her root-like fingers extended into massive, thick, whipping vines.

The vines wrapped around the heavy iron cannons lining the deck, crushing the artillery into useless, bent metal tubes with terrifying, botanical strength.

“I’m hungry!” Gammamon announced.

The little triceratops bounded over to a massive crate of Krieg’s prized MH5 poison gas bombs.

His jaws clamped down on the reinforced steel plating of the bombs.

With a loud CRUNCH, Gammamon bit right through the steel like it was a cracker, completely neutralizing the firing mechanisms and ruining the weaponized gas canisters in seconds.

Krieg watched in absolute horror as his commanders were frozen and his entire arsenal was dismantled by a skeleton, a walking flower, and a hungry dinosaur in less than thirty seconds.

Panicking, Krieg’s eyes darted to me.

“I warned you!” he roared, raising the Compound V syringe, preparing to slam it into his own gas mask to release the fumes.

“Room,” Law said softly, raising his left hand.

A pale blue dome of energy instantly snapped into existence, enveloping Krieg.

Law snapped his fingers.

“Shambles.”

Krieg thrust the syringe downward, but instead of the glass vial, he found his hand gripping a splintered, wet wooden mop handle.

He blinked in sheer confusion.

I looked over.

The syringe of Compound V was resting safely in Law’s palm.

“Give that back!” Krieg shrieked, entirely losing his mind.

He pulled out a massive, explosive battle spear from behind his cape.

He charged at me, trusting his impenetrable golden armor to protect him as he swung the explosive spear directly at my head.

I stepped directly into his guard.

My right fist turned pitch black, the Advanced Armament Haki hardening like diamond, surrounded by a faint, flowing aura of invisible willpower.

I threw a single, precise punch straight into Krieg’s chest.

My fist connected with the golden Wootz steel armor.

But the force of the blow didn’t stay on the surface.

The Advanced Armament Haki Internal Destruction bypassed the gold entirely.

A massive, concussive shockwave rippled directly through the armor and exploded inside Krieg’s chest.

Krieg’s eyes rolled back into his head.

The impenetrable golden armor violently shattered from the inside out, exploding into a shower of useless golden shrapnel.

The Pirate Fleet Admiral of the East Blue collapsed onto the deck like a puppet with its strings cut, completely unconscious.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Law muttered, carefully placing the syringe of Compound V into a secure metal case.

“He didn’t even have basic Observation Haki.”

“He was a big fish in the smallest pond,” I said, unclenching my fist.

“The items is secured.

Good work, everyone.”

I looked out across the dark water.

The brightly lit Baratie was bobbing gently in the waves a few miles away, the smell of roasted meat and rich spices drifting faintly on the sea breeze.

After a long flight, a gravity workout, and dealing with a screaming idiot in gold armor, the aroma was incredibly inviting.

“You know,” I said, rubbing my stomach.

“I think we’ve worked up an appetite.”

Gammamon’s ears perked up instantly.

“Food?!”

“Yeah, food,” I grinned, looking at Law and Brook.

“Let’s take the Glory over to that restaurant and grab some real East Blue seafood.

Once we’re full, we’ll sail back to Foosha Village and pick up the girls.”

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Curtis Branscum, Vince, Eric