— — — — — —
BOOM!
Guy Crimson was sent flying again, crashing hard into the iron cage. The whole thing rattled from the impact, but instead of anger, a faint smile crept across his lips.
"What the hell are you laughing at?" Imu frowned. For some reason, a chill ran down his spine. Did he miss something?
"Finally finished analyzing." Guy got back on his feet, his words making no sense at all.
"Analyzing…?" Imu's face darkened. Something about this didn't feel right.
"My ultimate skill: Pride." Guy's grin widened as he explained, "It lets me analyze an opponent's abilities and then copy them for myself. Pretty broken, right?"
Imu felt an icy dread crawl up his back. "That kind of ability can't exist! You're bluffing!"
But Guy ignored Imu, continuing calmly, "Truth is, I had many ways of beating you head-on. Your ability is insane, I'll give you that. But your combat sense? Trash. You rely completely on your fruit power."
"But I wanted to copy you abilities so I played a little. That's why I was the one who came here after all. Well, besides putting on a show and having a big fight so the world would remember this day as the Day of Freedom—or something like that."
"Anyway, how do you want to die?"
"You are lying! I'm always the victor. I don't die." Imu froze Guy again and lunged. But before he even realized it, Guy's fist smashed straight into his face, sending him flying.
"What—?!" Imu's mind went blank. Guy was moving—unaffected by his power!
"I told you already. I've got all of your abilities now." Guy's voice was cold, detached. "So… what's your next move?"
As Guy drew closer, Imu's courage shattered. He collapsed to the floor, scrambling backward. "Wait! Anything you want, I'll give you! Money, women, power—you name it! Just don't kill me! Please! No nonono I can't die... I'm a god, the king of the world."
"Sorry," Guy said flatly, pinning Imu underfoot as glowing magic circles lit up around them. "I don't need any of that. And you… must die."
"Noooo!!"
Imu's scream echoed through the palace.
"Lord Imu…" One of the Five Elders lay bleeding on the ground. Hearing the cry, he weakly lifted his head—then closed his eyes forever.
"Took you long enough!" MilImu planted her hands on her hips with a pout. "Was he slacking off or what? Such a waste of time!"
"Eh, I heard this Imu guy's ability was tricky. Probably why it dragged out so long," Veldora muttered, before casually stomping down on another Elder who was trying to crawl away.
"..."
The last Elder sat slumped against the floor, his wounds tearing open as he tried to move. He looked pathetic, nothing like the supreme leader of the World Government.
"Cough… guess you've won, huh?" His eyes were dazed, unable to process the scene before him. But then he chuckled bitterly. "Still… if the World Government falls, don't think you'll have it easy!"
"Activate Uranus!"
At some point, he'd pulled a remote from his sleeve. He slammed his thumb down on the button.
"...."
Seconds passed. Nothing happened.
"Huh?" Milim tilted her head, blinking in confusion. Was this guy an idiot?
"What's going on? Why isn't it activating? Don't tell me it broke in the fight—dammit, start already! Start!" The Elder smashed the remote over and over, but it remained dead silent.
"Um, about that Uranus," Veldora said awkwardly, scratching his cheek. "My buddy already took care of it. By now, there's probably not even ashes left. Sorry to break it to you."
"Impossible! That's Uranus—the weapon that could wipe out the world! There's no way you destroyed it!" The Elder's face twisted in disbelief. This was the final trump card, hidden so carefully… and not only had it been discovered, it was already gone? Did they have any idea how embarrassing it felt, mashing this useless remote? Couldn't they at least think about the villain's dignity for once?
...
Meanwhile, far above in space, a mechanical dragon let out a roar that shook the void.
This was Uranus—the ultimate biological weapon. Its scales were nearly indestructible, its speed like lightning, its power enough to shatter islands with a flick of its claws. Worse, its vitality was endless; no matter how grievous the wound, it would regenerate almost instantly.
From the void, massive chains burst forth, wrapping around its body and pinning it down. No matter how it thrashed, the chains didn't budge an inch.
"So this is Uranus, huh? Looks impressive, I'll give it that." Rimuru's golden eyes gleamed as he studied the struggling beast before him with amused curiosity.
"Still… this mechanical dragon is kind of ugly. Veldora looks way cooler." Rimuru rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then stretched out his left hand.
"Gluttony."
A tiny black hole bloomed in his palm. Space itself twisted, pulling everything—including Uranus—straight into the hole.
"Man, this skill's too good." Rimuru looked at his own hand in awe. "Didn't expect my power to skyrocket this much…"
Then he paused. "Oh, right. That thing was supposed to be their trump card, huh? Maybe I went a little too far… eh, whatever. Not my problem. I just 'accidentally' ran into it. I'll be on my way."
Out of respect for the villains' tragic fate, Rimuru bowed his head for three seconds of silence. Then, in a flicker, he was gone—off to check the battlefield.
...
On the ground, the fighting had already stopped. Benimaru was directing troops as they neatly secured prisoners. Even the pirates pitched in, helping organize things.
Those with nothing to do chilled around with Garp and his men.
To a stranger, the scene looked more like a feast than a prison camp. The so-called prisoners were laughing, drinking, and eating meat alongside their "captors."
"Hah! Finally, the World Government's gonna collapse!" Garp bellowed with laughter, downing his drink. Sengoku could only give him a look of exasperation.
"You're still a Marine, old man. Can't you at least pretend to have some standards?" Sengoku grumbled. Sure, he wanted the World Government gone too, but did Garp have to be so obvious about it? He didn't want the Marines to be called traitors in the book of history.
"Don't give me that, Sengoku. You think I don't know what's in your head? You're happier about this than I am!" Garp smacked him on the back, nearly knocking the wind out of him. "With them gone, the world can finally know peace."
The words made Sengoku fall silent for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he raised his cup. "Yeah… here's hoping for peace." He downed the beer in one go.
"Peace, huh? Sengoku, you sure didn't look so peaceful when we fought. You were weak as hell!" Whitebeard snorted.
Sengoku rolled his eyes. "Ever think maybe I didn't want to fight you? Unlike everyone else, you weren't putting on a show. You just went all in and tried to kill me!"
Whitebeard gave an awkward chuckle. "Oops. Didn't notice. Won't happen again."
"'Again'? Get lost! I don't want to see your face again."
Right then, a beam of blue light dropped from the sky. Everyone tensed—until they got a look at the newcomer. Who would bother being on guard against a pint-sized kid barely four and a half feet tall?
"Uh… what exactly are you all doing?" Rimuru pointed at them blankly.
"Isn't it obvious? We're being prisoners of war!" Garp barked with his big piece of meat, as if Rimuru was the one in the wrong.
Wait, that's how prisoners of war are supposed to act?
"Been a while, Rimuru," Whitebeard greeted with a grin. "So? Changed your mind about being my daughter yet?"
Rimuru sighed. "If you drop that topic, we can still be friends. And seriously, why daughter? Do I really look that much like a girl? …Wait. Damn, I kinda do."
"Master!" From the distance, Ranga came charging full speed, leaping on Rimuru and smothering him in slobbery licks.
"Ranga! No licking! Not the face! Stop, stop!" Rimuru sputtered. 'So this is where the term 'lickspittle' comes from…'
"Rimuru!"
"Bestie!"
"Rimuru-sama!"
Everyone who spotted him rushed over to greet him.
"Looks like Rimuru-sama is enjoying himself," Diablo teased. That only made Ranga lick harder.
"Diablo…" Rimuru groaned. "Forget it. What's the damage report? No casualties, right?"
Benimaru, still every inch the commander, answered seriously. "No fatalities. We have 8,400 injured and 30,000 lightly wounded. Overall… I'd call it a solid victory."
"Benimaru, you're way too modest. That's amazing!" Rimuru beamed.
"Cough… thank you." A hint of red crept onto Benimaru's face at the praise. Truly, the man was a classic tsundere.
Noticing Guy approach, Rimuru patted Ranga's head, got to his feet, and asked, "So, what's the deal with Imu?"
"Not even bones left," Guy replied with a smile.
Rimuru swallowed hard. Casual tone, brutal words. Classic Lord of Darkness.
"Right, that reminds me—I happened to pick up something interesting." Rimuru quickly shifted the topic, not wanting to dwell on Guy's handiwork.
"Oh? What is it?" everyone asked, curious.
"Take a look!" Rimuru raised his hand, revealing a transparent cube of crystal. Inside, a small silver robotic dragon thrashed and roared.
One of the surviving Five Elders, still dangling in Veldora's grip, froze at the sight. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
"No… impossible! That's— that's Uranus, the Uranus! How could it be in your hands? And why does it look like that?!"
"Mm… well, if I said I caught it by accident… would you believe me?" Rimuru scratched his cheek, trying to look innocent.
.
.
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