As Alvida charged forward, wielding a massive spiked mace in both hands, the Navy soldiers didn't hesitate—they opened fire!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

A barrage of gunfire rang out in perfect unison. But not a single bullet hit Alvida.

She crouched low, gliding across the deck barefoot with an agility like she was skiing, weaving effortlessly through the hail of bullets.

In the next moment, she swung her mace, sending a group of soldiers flying like ragdolls—as if she were cutting through weeds.

The Navy hadn't expected her to possess such brute strength. They were caught completely off guard.

Meanwhile, Kuro—who hadn't fought against the Navy in a long time—was anything but rusty.

Using his signature Silent Step, he moved like a ghost, appearing beside the soldiers without a sound. Before they could react, his claws had already slashed open their stomachs.

It was a brutal, one-sided slaughter.

Krieg realized that holding Hepody hostage had lost its meaning. He flung the officer aside and gave Gin a look—time to fight.

If the Navy was wiped out, neither of them would be left standing either.

They never imagined they'd end up fighting on the same side as the Navy—however briefly.

Gin nodded grimly, then raised his one remaining iron crutch and swung it at Alvida's unguarded back!

Clang!

The crutch struck the back of her head—but the sensation was bizarre. It felt like hitting a spring—the crutch rebounded off to the side!

Aside from knocking off Alvida's hat, the attack didn't leave so much as a bruise on her head.

What?!

Gin stared in confusion at his iron crutch.

Alvida, having just floored another sailor, turned and narrowed her eyes, flashing a playful smile.

"Strange, right?" she teased, picking up her hat and tucking it into her belt. "Your attacks don't work on me. They just slide right off."

Unwilling to believe it, Gin charged forward again. He feinted with the crutch, then slipped his left hand into his coat and pulled out a pistol, firing it at her heart.

Bang!

Smoke burst from the barrel. Alvida reacted instantly—twisting her body, the bullet grazed her arm and zipped past, embedding itself in a Navy soldier behind her.

She swung her mace at Gin, who blocked it with his crutch—just in time to hear her laugh:

"Heh, sneak attacks with pistols? I've done that trick more times than I can count. You think it'll work on me?"

Gin gritted his teeth, shoving her back with his crutch. But she seized the opening and kicked his pistol away.

He glanced at the fallen weapon, but didn't bother retrieving it. Single-shot pistols were worthless once a surprise attack failed.

So he raised his crutch again and resumed combat—trading blows with Alvida, who danced across the deck with sliding footwork and deadly precision.

On the other side of the ship, Kuro was ruthlessly mowing down the Navy soldiers. Under his long claws, men fell one after another—wounded or dead.

The longer the battle went on, the faster Kuro's movements became. At first, he'd simply wanted to get it over with and return to the Terror Ghost—even spacing out on lookout duty sounded better than this.

But as more blood stained his claws, a darker side of Kuro began to stir.

He lost sight of his original goal and gave in to the pure, unrestrained joy of killing.

However, when he finally reached Krieg, that bloodlust was cut short.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

No matter how fiercely Kuro slashed with his claws, Krieg calmly blocked every attack with his armor. The reinforced plating merely received scratches—none deep enough to break through.

Kuro frowned, but kept up the pressure.

After fending off a flurry of attacks, Krieg snorted coldly and raised his arm. A volley of sharp iron spikes shot out from compartments hidden in his armor—whizzing through the air!

Kuro twisted and weaved through the projectiles, only to find a cape bristling with spikes falling toward him from above. He narrowly dodged again.

Then the gun barrels embedded in Krieg's armor opened fire—leaving Kuro no time to breathe.

What's with this bastard?!

How does he have so many damn gadgets?!

Kuro cursed under his breath as he dodged, still frowning.

Meanwhile, Hepody watched the chaos, the deck now slick with blood. Unconsciously, he backed away toward the edge of the ship.

Gripping the railing, he prepared to jump—

—but a slimy tentacle wrapped around his waist, yanking him back.

"Going somewhere?" Davy Jones sneered, slamming Hepody onto the deck.

The Marine officer, still gripping his brass knuckles, instinctively swung a punch at Davy Jones.

Jones calmly raised his crab claw—and with blinding speed, snipped off Hepody's right hand at the wrist.

Schlick!

Blood sprayed like a fountain.

Hepody stared in horror as his severed hand hit the deck. He screamed at last, unable to hold it in.

"Brass knuckles aren't toys," Davy Jones said mockingly, flicking the blood from his claw. "You look like the kind of man who values his life. So if you want to live—tell me something useful."

After being manipulated by Lord Cutler Beckett in a previous life, Davy Jones had no love for the Navy or the World Government.

But he was fair. If Hepody offered valuable intel, he might spare him.

Unfortunately, Hepody was in too much shock. Pale-faced, he knelt on the deck, clutching his bleeding stump. He couldn't even speak—only stare at Davy Jones in fear.

After waiting a moment and hearing no reply, Jones sighed in disappointment.

He raised his claw and smashed it down on Hepody's head—ending his life in one brutal strike.

Hepody's body collapsed to the deck, a pool of blood spreading beneath him.

Davy Jones rifled through the corpse and found a map, marked with the location of a nearby Navy base. Nothing else.

Turning, he saw that the battle was almost over.

The Navy soldiers were either lying wounded or had abandoned their officer and fled to the other warship, which was now speeding away.

Alvida and Gin, Kuro and Krieg were still locked in battle—but Krieg had realized the tide had turned against them.

The Navy, which had served as a shield, was gone. Now that Davy Jones was free to move, he would come for them next.

There was no time left to stall.

Kuro's claws couldn't pierce Krieg's armor, but Krieg also couldn't catch the elusive Kuro.

Krieg glanced at Gin, made up his mind, and pulled a gas mask from his belt, securing it over his face. Then he ripped off the circular shoulder plate from his armor and hurled it to the deck like a shield.

Kuro, recognizing the mask and Krieg's shift in behavior, immediately guessed what was about to happen—and retreated using Silent Step.

Sure enough, a shell launched from the shoulder plate's underside—and exploded at point-blank range!

BOOM!!

The deck shattered. From below, a strange hiss echoed up from the ship's belly.

Hissss—

A thick toxic gas billowed out and began to spread across the deck with the wind.

The fallen Navy soldiers who were still breathing convulsed violently, and within moments, **blood poured from their eyes, ears, noses, and mouths—**dead.

Gin also inhaled the gas and turned in shock, only to see Krieg standing there in his gas mask.

Captain Krieg… didn't even warn me...

He vomited blood, vision fading, and toppled into the breach in the deck—his life slipping away.

He lasted slightly longer than the dying sailors, but had only a few hours at best.

Krieg didn't spare him a glance. Breathing heavily through the mask, he anxiously watched the three enemies to see how they'd react.

The poison gas continued to spread—it would soon cover the entire deck.

Kuro clicked his tongue and prepared to leap into the sea—only to feel a sudden crab claw hook catch him by the collar.

Davy Jones was beside him.

A tentacle had also wrapped around Alvida.

Jones jumped high into the air, taking both of them with him.

In a flash, the scene shifted with a whoosh—and the three of them landed safely back on the deck of the Terror Ghost.

Alvida and Kuro stumbled as they were released, both shaken, both staring back at the Navy warship—then at their captain.

If Davy Jones hadn't been there, they would've died choking on poison or been forced to flee into the sea. Neither her slippery skin nor his Silent Step could have saved them from that.

Buggy, who had stayed behind to guard the ship, walked over, ready to ask what had happened.

But Davy Jones didn't even look at him. With a flick of his tentacles, the sails unfurled, snapping into place.

The next moment—

a torrential downpour and howling storm erupted from the sky—without the slightest warning.

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