As Jerry's mocking words echoed across the bridge, more and more slaves began stepping forward with newfound determination.
One middle-aged man with an unshaven beard glared directly at Jerry, clenched his weathered fists, and declared loudly: "Boy! I'll give you this much—you're right about one thing. We're already living in hell, and there's truly nothing left for us to lose."
As soon as he finished speaking, he gently stroked the head of his teenage daughter standing beside him, his voice growing soft with paternal love: "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I never gave you the happy childhood you deserved, and I couldn't protect your mother when she needed me most..."
His expression hardened with resolve. "But this time, I won't back down. Just wait for me to come back, and we'll start a completely new life together. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, Papa!" The young girl bit her lower lip, tears glistening in her eyes as she nodded with fierce determination.
Seeing her brave response, the middle-aged man patted his daughter's shoulder gently while his eyes grew increasingly resolute.
He looked up at the people gathered around them, then shouted directly to Jerry with defiant pride:
"Watch me, you arrogant kid! I may not be anyone's hero, but I've got the courage to fight to the death!"
Jerry's mouth curved into an approving smile, and immediately the heavy shackles binding the man's wrists and ankles fell away with metallic clangs.
This scene represented just one tiny example among the tens of thousands of enslaved workers present on the massive bridge.
"Let's go! Beat down everyone who's been oppressing us!"
As more and more slaves found their courage and stood up, Jerry continued using his water manipulation to remotely free them from their restraints.
Cursing with years of pent-up fury and grabbing whatever makeshift weapons they could find, the liberated workers rushed toward the isolated overseers and guards scattered throughout the crowd.
"We don't know his ultimate purpose, but this is our moment! Move quickly!" The young Revolutionary Army leader decisively issued orders to his concealed accomplices, directing the revolutionary operatives hidden throughout the slave population to take immediate action.
"This man... he's not one of our Revolutionary Army members. What a shame—we could use someone like him." The thick-browed young revolutionary wearing distinctive gray-white gloves shook his head with a mixture of admiration and regret.
In truth, when Jerry had first begun his provocative speech, he'd had no premeditation or specific intention to incite the slaves' emotions.
He had simply been inspired by observing that most of the supervisors and guards had moved away to deal with his crew, while countless slaves continued working in numb, mechanical fashion despite having no immediate oversight.
His passionate words had grown more heated as he spoke, inadvertently rekindling the spark of resistance that had been buried deep within these hardworking people's hearts.
Jerry understood perfectly well that not all these slaves were innocent victims. Some were genuine criminals who had been exiled here for their crimes, while Revolutionary Army soldiers were also mixed in among the masses.
However, his advanced Observation Haki allowed him to continuously monitor everyone present, leaving no one's true nature hidden from his perception.
Jerry certainly wouldn't allow actual criminals to take advantage of the chaos he'd created to cause additional harm. Whenever he detected someone with genuinely malicious intentions, he would directly and secretly deal with them using extremely decisive methods.
After all, he had no desire to create truly uncontrollable civil unrest that might cause innocent people to suffer unnecessarily.
At this moment, Jerry seemed to have activated a god's-eye view of the entire situation. Using the ambient moisture in the air, he had essentially become an invisible giant hand capable of covering everyone present.
The torrential storm outside continued raging, but it remained blocked by the enormous water barrier that Jerry maintained overhead, creating an independent world that existed beyond the reach of the rain.
"Ha! Maybe this is what it feels like to hold an umbrella for thousands of other people," Jerry couldn't help murmuring to himself as he watched nearly half the slave population begin taking action.
Under the secret planning and coordination of the Revolutionary Army operatives, the slaves gradually formed organized units, united their efforts, and moved to support Deuce and the others at the front lines. Together, they engaged the armed forces left behind by the World Government and the Kingdom of Tequila Wolf.
The Revolutionary Army members certainly weren't content to sit idle and simply watch events unfold.
They had somehow acquired a cache of firearms from hidden stockpiles and quickly distributed the weapons among the newly formed slave units.
Even though they couldn't ensure every person received a musket, they made maximum use of all available resources and their overwhelming numerical advantage.
They organized groups of temporarily unarmed workers to carry large sacks of construction materials and other heavy items, advancing slowly under the covering fire provided by their armed friends.
The Revolutionary Army members hiding among them—those who possessed genuine military training and combat experience—remained scattered throughout multiple teams, ready to step forward and face powerful enemies when circumstances demanded it.
In practice, most of the enemy's strongest fighters had already been drawn away by Deuce and his assault team.
Cavendish's lightning-fast strikes crackling with electrical energy, Brook's area-of-effect attacks using his soul-powered musical techniques, and the agile, aggressive combat styles of the other Black Star Pirates were far beyond what ordinary guards could hope to resist.
"Boss Deuce, did you know Boss Jerry had this kind of skill? He can inspire slaves to fight just by talking to them."
While advancing through enemy lines, Skull—who had built up an impressively muscular physique through constant training and his previous manual labor—kicked an opponent away before turning to address Deuce beside him.
Naturally, they had all heard Jerry's words echoing throughout the entire area, whether due to his naturally powerful voice or some other technique he'd employed to amplify his speech.
"Yeah... it sounds like his words actually carry real weight behind them. I should write down what he said later for future reference." Wielding twin short swords, Deuce moved through the enemy formation with remarkable agility, weaving in and out of combat with fluid precision.
Carina, who was fighting in formation alongside the two men and Bonney, curled her lips skeptically. "Tsk! What possible value could it have? He probably just made it all up on the spot."
Carrot zipped past with lightning crackling around her small form, happening to stop beside Carina as she giggled: "But Brother Jerry really did manage to cheer them up and get them moving!"
Bonney, meanwhile, was using her Age-Age Fruit powers to transform the enemies she encountered into helpless young children or frail elderly people before easily knocking them unconscious.
She had been genuinely moved when she heard Jerry's inspirational words.
The young girl couldn't help questioning herself: Did her father's legendary Nika—the liberation fighter that Kuma had been pursuing and waiting for, whom she'd heard stories about since childhood—truly exist somewhere in the world?
Thinking along these lines, Bonney shook her head violently, doing her best to dispel the growing doubts in her heart.
She couldn't determine whether her father's years of patient faith would ultimately be rewarded, nor could she predict whether Nika would ever actually appear in the world.
Despite these uncertainties, she refused to easily question Bartholomew Kuma's unwavering beliefs.
Without anyone fully realizing it, the slaves organized jointly by the Black Star Pirates and Revolutionary Army had been systematically crushing their opposition with surprising ease, forcing the enemy forces to retreat step by step until they were finally pushed back to the command post building complex standing at the bridge's center.
Those were the very buildings that had, day after day, oppressed, punished, and assigned impossible tasks to the enslaved workers.
Beyond that complex of structures lay the headquarters of Tequila Wolf's ruling kingdom.
"Brothers and sisters! Give it everything you've got! Charge!"
From the front lines of the advancing crowd, passionate battle cries rang out one after another. The fighting spirit of the liberated slaves grew stronger with each passing moment as they shouted with fierce determination and continued launching their relentless assault.
Far behind the main action, Jerry witnessed this dramatic scene unfolding and smiled as he spoke quietly to himself:
"That's exactly right! Just like when a cafeteria opens for lunch or a store announces a major sale—if you have the determination to be among the first to act, you won't have trouble achieving great things."
Jerry certainly understood that in this world where reason often didn't prevail and whoever possessed the biggest fists made the rules, spiritual qualities like courage and determination alone weren't sufficient for victory.
However, on this particular battlefield, the Black Star Pirates undoubtedly wielded the most devastating power.
With their formidable assistance supporting the uprising, the slaves were like protected children being carried safely through enemy lines—able to fight their way through the opposition and emerge victorious on the other side.
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