Chapter 179 - CHAPTER 179:They Are My Dear Friends And Relatives, They Have To Pay More

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"Gu la la la… Are you worried about me, kid?" Whitebeard's booming laugh echoed through the golden corridors of Mariejois.

"Don't think too much into it, Edward. You're one of the few in this sea who doesn't disgust me. If you die, things will just be too boring," Ayr replied, his tone casual, but with an undercurrent of sincerity.

Among all the titans of the New World, only Edward Newgate—Whitebeard—made Ayr feel at ease. In a sea teeming with monsters thirsting for power, Whitebeard was one of the few men who drank for camaraderie, not strategy. If he perished, this chaotic world would lose a rare kind of balance. And Ayr wasn't one to waste words—nor to share sake without reason.

"Even if I find myself surrounded, I won't die in a place like this," Whitebeard said with calm certainty, his gaze holding unshakable faith in his own power—Gura Gura no Mi, the strongest Paramecia, combined with a physical strength that could split the sea. Even Mariejois, the World Nobles' den of dragons, wouldn't be enough to end him easily. The Yonko knew his worth. So did Ayr.

They walked through the long corridor leading deeper into the core of power. At the end stood a large obsidian door, flanked by two CP0 agents adorned in white and black masks, halberds at their sides. When Ayr and Whitebeard reached it, one agent stepped forward and bowed with mechanical precision.

"This audience is for Lord Ayr alone. The Gorosei have made this clear."

Whitebeard frowned slightly, his grip tightening just for a breath—but he said nothing. He wasn't here to make waves in enemy waters. The agents opened the door silently. Ayr stepped inside.

He entered a richly furnished chamber, the air thick with both incense and tension. The Five Elders sat in semi-circular formation, each emanating a unique pressure. Despite their old age, Ayr could feel their oppressive aura—none of them were ordinary.

"You're finally here, Ayr."

"You've made a wise choice."

"Your appearance suggests you're ready to cooperate. This partnership will benefit both sides."

"As long as you assist us, the World Government can provide as many Devil Fruits as you wish."

The Five Elders, each once rumored to be warriors of an ancient era, greeted him like merchant kings rather than tyrants.

"No need for pleasantries. What's the deal?" Ayr replied as he sat across from them, arms resting lazily on the sofa, eyes sharp. He still didn't know what exact game these old men were playing.

The elder with the long scar and bald head leaned forward. "Then let's get to the point. You're aware that the balance between the pirates of the New World and the Marines has collapsed." He snapped his fingers, and a holographic map of the New World appeared—courtesy of Vegapunk's tech.

"The Pirate Emperors—Whitebeard, Golden Lion, Big Mom, Kaido, John, Silver Axe, Ochoku, Byrnndi World, Chinjao the Drill, Redfield, Roger, Rayleigh, and others—each possess devastating power. Meanwhile, the Marine top brass—Garp, Sengoku, Zephyr, Tsuru, and Kong—are being confined for internal mobilization. Most of them are currently stationed here or near the Red Line for Imu-sama's direct orders."

"Simply put," the elder in black said, folding his hands, "we need an external force—you—to tip the balance."

Ayr remained silent, his gaze sharp enough to cut through the illusions of diplomacy.

"We'll supply you with intelligence—real-time locations, ship movements, deployment data—and you will eliminate the New World's worst. Piece by piece. For every pirate captain, a reward. And when the sea is calm again, you shall be recognized as Emperor of the New World," the blond elder added smoothly.

Marine deployment had been neutered, and the Five Elders could not act directly, bound by Imu's order to remain within Mariejois until "The Cleansing" began. So they turned to Ayr—the independent monster who carved out influence with nothing but strength, ruthlessness, and credibility.

"Let's get straight to it. Who do you want me to kill first?" Ayr's tone was low and clear.

The elder with the 35-sword scar leaned in. "John."

Silence followed.

Ayr leaned back, the atmosphere shifting. "John? You want me to kill John?" His voice darkened. "He and I are dear friends. Brothers. We sailed under the same flag—shared battles, women, sake, secrets. You ask me to kill someone like that?"

The elders didn't flinch.

"Oh? And here we thought profit was your language," said the blade-wielding elder with a smirk.

"Don't treat me like some soulless dog. I do value loyalty. John… he's one of mine," Ayr said coldly. "If you want me to kill him... the price is double."

That was a mask.

In truth, Ayr did want to kill John. Deep down, that grudge had never died. At the Battle of the Valley of the Gods, John, Silver Axe, and Ochoku had sided against him. If not for Golden Lion's interference, he might've died there. Since then, he had tasked underworld agents and bounty guilds to search for John, but the vastness of the New World and the chaos of the Rocks Pirates' fall made them hard to find.

So John lived—until now. The elders had practically served his head on a silver platter. This time, Ayr would collect the payment and the debt.

The blond elder nodded. "You are a businessman." He clapped twice. A side door opened, and soldiers entered carrying ten ornate treasure chests. Each was laid before Ayr and opened to reveal ten Devil Fruits, some glowing with swirling patterns, others emanating pressure like wild beasts.

"These are the same quality as the ones we gave you last time. Consider them a down payment. Kill John, and we'll give you more—Fruits, weapons, ancient blueprints, or even territories."

Ayr picked up a dark-purple fruit with spiral flames etched across its skin. He didn't bite it—but his eyes gleamed with ambition.

"It seems cooperating with you wasn't a mistake after all."

"Exactly. Mutually profitable."

Yet, everyone in the room knew the truth.

If there was one person the Five Elders feared more than Rocks D. Xebec, it was Ayr—his unnatural talent, his control of Conqueror's Haki so refined it could split islands, his rumored Sage Body possibly born of a forbidden technique unearthed from the moonlit ruins of Shandora, and his sword—Demon Slayer, said to devour the essence of other blades.

If he ever turned on them, the cost would be astronomical. But for now, he was a tool. Let him carve through the New World's chaos. Let him kill the Yonko one by one. They would keep smiling… until the day came to silence him.

"Then it's settled," the elder with glasses said. "John is your first target. Succeed, and your next contract will be even grander."

Ayr stood, reaching for the Devil Fruit, fingers brushing its surface. "I'll bring you his head. And then, I want more than just fruit."

"Oh? Then name it."

Ayr smiled. "His entire fleet. And the ledger he stole from the Rocks archives."

The room fell silent. The elders exchanged glances. They knew what was in that ledger—ancient Void Century truths that even Imu-sama feared. And Ayr had just revealed he knew about it.

"Very well," said the elder in black. "Kill John. Bring us the ledger."

As Ayr turned to leave, his voice lingered behind him like a blade hanging in the air.

"He may be my brother once—but some debts can only be paid in blood."

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