"I don't care who you are."
"I don't care who sent you here."
"Now—" Vinsmoke Judge's voice echoed like iron over the steel walls of Germa. He stood tall above the courtyard, clad in his gleaming battle suit, the heavy spear gripped firmly in his hand. From the balcony of the highest tower, the King of Germa glared down with a sovereign's coldness at the intruder who had brought destruction to his floating kingdom.
"You have only one minute to explain your intrusion into the Germa Kingdom."
Judge's eyes sharpened, merciless. "Unless you provide me a reason worthy of my time, this minute will be your last chance to breathe the air of the North Sea."
Below him, the smoke and dust swirled violently, still lingering from the catastrophic crash. Hundreds of clone soldiers had already surrounded the ruined square, rifles raised, muzzles trained on the smoking crater. Their formation was precise, mechanical, coldly efficient.
But the aura that emerged from the settling haze was anything but ordinary.
"Interesting…"
The voice rolled out, low and heavy, before the first shadow even appeared. Then a massive figure stepped forward, his presence warping the atmosphere like a storm.
"It's true. Every soldier looks identical," the man mused as his gaze swept across the sea of clones. "But soldiers with only basic strenght…?" His lips curled into a cruel grin.
"No matter how many of them there are, no matter what weapons they hold, they're nothing more than a pile of trash."
The dust broke apart entirely, revealing the devilish frame of Douglas Bullet. His body was hardened muscle and scar, and the weight of his aura pressed down like a mountain.
For a brief moment, his Observation Haki swept the courtyard, and he found the truth in an instant—these soldiers were no stronger than a common Marine recruit. His eyes dulled with disappointment.
Above, Judge's eyes widened, his bravado faltering. His spear trembled, though only for an instant.
"Douglas… Bullet."
The name left his lips like a curse. For the proud king, it was rare to show fear openly. Yet in the face of the Demon's Heir, terror was instinct.
Because Bullet was not alone.
The shadow behind him—the will that made kings kneel—was that of Vice Admiral Rosen, the man who had torn Donquixote Doflamingo from his throne, shattered the Donquixote Pirates, and bound one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea into the chains of the Navy.
Judge had not merely read the newspapers. He had seen the intelligence firsthand. He knew of the day the seas of the North were overturned: Rosen's Conqueror's Haki that erased resistance without lifting a hand, and the towering Susanoo that had split sea and sky to tear down Doflamingo's Birdcage.
He knew better than most the scale of Rosen's reach.
Now that same man's most terrifying subordinate had descended upon Germa.
"You know me, then." Bullet's smirk deepened as he flexed his scarred hand, every knuckle cracking like a cannon. "Good. That means I won't need to waste time on introductions."
He raised his right hand, slowly opening his palm. His voice cut through the air like a blade:
"The Admiral wants to see you." His words left no room for refusal. "So, will you walk with me… or shall I break your limbs and drag you before him?"
"Vinsmoke Judge."
The king's jaw locked tight.
Clone soldiers shifted uneasily, their fingers trembling over triggers. But not one
fired—not yet.
Every man, though a copy, could feel the killing intent radiating from Douglas Bullet.
"You dare…" Judge's voice faltered. He steadied himself with a breath, then raised his chin, clinging to a shred of dignity. "Germa 66 is a member nation of the World Government!" His voice rang with desperation. "Even if Vice Admiral Rosen commands the North Sea, he cannot lay hands upon the king of a government-allied nation without direct authorization from Marine Headquarters!"
A heavy silence fell. Judge had revealed his shield—the only umbrella he had left.
"Ah. So that's the card you've been clutching." Bullet didn't blink. His smile did not fade.
"And what do you expect me to do with it? Tremble?" His voice grew sharper, colder. "If the Admiral sent me here, it means only one thing. Whether or not your nation hides behind that title…" His eyes flared. "It doesn't matter."
The king's lips trembled, but he forced himself to stand tall. "The Heavenly Tribute itself proves it! Some time ago, Cipher Pol personally received the tribute gold from Germa. If you doubt my words, your Admiral can confirm it with the Government directly!"
Bullet laughed—a booming, joyless sound. "There's no need for confirmation." He extended a finger and pointed behind the Judge. "Because the Admiral is already watching."
Judge froze. He turned slowly.
There, in the crater left by Bullet's crash, half-buried in shattered stone, was an Image Den Den Mushi. Its shell gleamed as it recorded, transmitting every word, every movement back to the 1st Marine Branch of the North Sea.
Judge's eyes went wide. His chest seized as realization dawned.
"Vice Admiral Rosen… is watching this live?"
Bullet did not answer directly. He didn't need to. His silence was confirmation enough.
Somewhere far away, in the quiet of the branch office, Rosen sat back in his great chair, arms folded as the live image played before him. Captain Doll stood at his side, her eyes narrowed at the screen.
"How pitiful," she muttered, her voice low but sharp. "Even now, he hides behind titles. He doesn't realize your blade already cut through that illusion long ago, Admiral."
Rosen said nothing. He only watched, silent and steady, as though savoring the slow unraveling of a kingdom. His presence through the screen weighed heavier than Judge's own soldiers surrounding the battlefield.
Judge's voice cracked as he shouted into the camera: "Vice Admiral Rosen! You must see—Germa 66 is a recognized member of the World Government. That is fact, indisputable fact!"
His words echoed like a plea.
Bullet tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. His reply was merciless:
"Do you still not understand, 'King'?" His tone dripped with disdain. "It is not for the Vice Admiral to prove you are a member nation. It is you who must prove to him that Germa still deserves that title."
The words slammed into Judge harder than any blow.
But still, he fought to maintain his composure. He straightened his back, lifted his Den Den Mushi, and in a hurried movement dialed the one contact he believed could save him.
Buru—Buru—Buru—
Click.
A voice answered.
"This is Stussy."
Judge spoke quickly, each word edged with panic. "Douglas Bullet is here. He claims Vice Admiral Rosen demands my presence. You must tell them! You must prove to them—Germa 66 has already been accepted as a member of the World Government!"
The other end fell silent. Too silent.
Judge's stomach knotted. "Stussy…?"
When her voice returned, it was colder, more distant than he remembered.
"I was going to contact you as well," she said evenly. "The fleet transporting the Heavenly Tribute has been attacked. Cipher Pol Nine, who escorted it, is missing. The other agents were found unconscious, unable to recall the incident. The tribute has vanished."
Her words landed like thunder.
Judge's face turned white. His hand gripped the receiver with such force the shell cracked.
Whether it had been coincidence, or a conspiracy laid in shadows, one truth had become undeniable:
The shield of Germa was gone.
And with it, the King of Germa stood exposed before the blade of Vice Admiral Rosen.