The charred planks of Magu Town cracked beneath Renn Hawk's boots as he led his men forward. Every step echoed softly in the ruins, a grim counterpoint to the distant wails still seeping from the wreckage. Behind him marched thousands of Marines, their presence like a tidal wave crashing into the freshly scarred remains of the pirate haven.
"Damn Marines!"
"Help! Somebody help!"
"No… no, I don't want to die!"
From beneath collapsed beams and shattered masonry, the survivors cried out. Curses, screams, desperate pleas they rose together in a pitiful chorus.
Hawk's eyes swept over the wreckage, and a faint smirk tugged at his lips. "So, quite a few cockroaches survived after all…"
He had expected this. No matter how heavy the bombardment, unless the town was shelled for hours on end without pause, there would always be those stubborn enough or lucky enough to crawl out of the ashes.
Hawk raised his hand, his voice sharp and merciless. "Leave no one alive."
"Yes, sir!"
Like a great beast splitting into countless smaller predators, his army scattered instantly. The Marines broke into squads, flooding down streets, into alleys, and over smoldering rubble. Steel rang, rifles cracked, boots thundered. The screams that followed told the story those who had survived the bombardment now found themselves trapped in a far crueler slaughter.
The air was filled with the stench of burning wood, scorched flesh, and blood. Every cry, every futile resistance, was cut down by flashing blades, gunfire, or the crushing impact of fists and kicks.
Hawk did not move. He simply stood at the crossroads at the center of the ruined town, cigar between his fingers, his eyes locked on the faint blue screen only he could see.
The numbers danced wildly.
[Ding. Eliminated pirate with bounty 12 million Beli. Gained 1,200 Justice Points.]
[Ding. Eliminated pirate with bounty 8 million Beli. Gained 800 Justice Points.]
[Ding…]
The digits climbed higher and higher, each jump bringing Hawk a quiet satisfaction.
"Not bad at all." He smiled faintly, smoke curling from his lips.
To the outside world, this operation looked like vengeance revenge against the Bellamy Pirates who had dared to provoke him. But Hawk knew better. The attack on Magu Town was never about revenge alone. It carried layered purposes, each one carefully thought through.
The first was training. The G-3 Branch now stood as his command, but its composition was fractured. There were his loyal core subordinates, Marines drawn from other branches, and hardened veterans who had served long before him. Alone, they were separate parts. Together, they were little more than a pile of mismatched steel. But shared blood, fire, and slaughter had the power to weld them into a single blade. And nothing bound soldiers faster than surviving a massacre side by side.
The second reason was Magu Town itself. It was a festering boil on the seas, a place where pirates drank, gambled, robbed, and murdered without fear of retribution. It was a playground of sin, a sneer at everything the word "justice" was meant to stand for. To allow it to exist was to insult the very concept of the Marines. Destruction was not just justified it was inevitable.
But the deepest reason lay far beyond this burning ruin. Hawk tilted his head back, exhaling a ring of smoke as his gaze pierced the smoke-stained sky.
"Skypiea…" he murmured.
Four centuries ago, a massive current had torn half of Jaya Island into the heavens, carrying with it the fabled Golden City of Shandora. Up there, on an island ten thousand meters high, lay a fortune in gold vast enough to stagger the imagination.
The high command had placed their hopes on him. They had given him resources, freedom, and authority no Marine of his rank should wield. If he was to shoulder such responsibility, he needed more than blood and victories. He needed power to change the very structure of the Marines themselves.
And that required gold.
"Beli isn't everything," Hawk whispered, his tone cold and thoughtful. "But nothing works without it."
If he could reach Skypiea, secure the Golden City's treasure, and return it safely, then for the first time in history the Marines could begin freeing themselves from the World Government's chokehold. Financial independence was the first step toward true justice justice unshackled from politics and corruption.
But even then, the treasure wouldn't last forever. The Marines consumed money like fire devoured wood. A mountain of gold would buy time, but time alone was not enough. A stable, renewable source of wealth was needed, something that could endure for generations.
Hawk's thoughts drifted. A tall figure flashed in his mind, the glint of a golden ring across nine fingers, a name whispered only in fragments. "A nameless man once left his mark…"
"Commander Hawk."
The voice pulled him back. Dane appeared at his side, his uniform streaked with soot, his sword resting casually at his shoulder.
"The sweep is complete. Not a trace of pirate life remains in Magu Town. The filth has been cleansed."
Hawk's eyes flickered with satisfaction. He gave a curt nod. "Good."
The numbers on his screen froze, their final total gleaming bright before him:
[Current Justice Points: 55,091]
Hawk's smile widened. "Excellent."
Over fifty-five thousand points. More than he had dared to expect. Enough to push his Observation Haki, Armament Haki, physical body, and martial arts to the level of a Marine Headquarters Vice Admiral. A complete leap across every discipline.
His recent clash with Admiral Akainu had already taught him that the system did not hand over mastery all at once. It granted potential the ceiling of an entire rank but the user had to train, fight, and bleed to truly embody it. He had wrestled with the power of a Vice Admiral before, and with time he had fused it into himself until he stood at the true pinnacle of a Rear Admiral, brushing against Vice Admiral strength.
This new advancement would demand the same. He would rise to Vice Admiral level, but only after honing himself in battle would he reach its peak and set his sights on the tier of Admiral candidates.
But there was more. Even after enhancing every discipline, Justice Points remained. Enough to touch something greater the power said to belong only to kings.
Conqueror's Haki.
Hawk's heart beat faster. To dominate not through blade or fist, but by sheer will that crushed the spirits of lesser men. A power that could only belong to those destined to rule.
His decision was made.
"System," he commanded silently. "Spend forty thousand Justice Points. Raise all abilities except Conqueror's Haki to Advanced level."
[Ding. Consumed 40,000 Justice Points.]
[Observation Haki upgraded to Advanced (Vice Admiral level).]
[Armament Haki upgraded to Advanced (Vice Admiral level).]
[Physical Body upgraded to Advanced (Vice Admiral level).]
[Martial Arts (Fist) upgraded to Advanced (Vice Admiral level).]
The surge of power crashed over him like a storm tide. His breath grew heavier, his muscles taut with new strength. It was as though the very world had sharpened around him colors brighter, sounds clearer, the weight of his fists more immense.
"Not enough," Hawk growled, eyes flashing. "Use the rest on Conqueror's Haki. Awaken the King's Potential."
[Ding!]
The screen pulsed. A pressure, invisible yet overwhelming, began to rise from within him, curling like a slumbering beast finally stirring awake.
The King's Aura.
Renn Hawk's journey was far from over. Magu Town had fallen, but this was only the first stone cast into the ocean. The ripples would spread, growing into waves, then into a storm that would shake the seas.
And when the world looked upon the Marines, it would no longer see pawns of the Government.
It would see Renn Hawk the man of Slaughter Justice standing at the forefront, ready to claim the age as his own.
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