"Spandine?" Ginny heard the name and looked at him in surprise before asking,
"You really are Spandine?"
"Huh?" Spandine was puzzled but quickly replied, "Yes, yes! I am Spandine!"
"One of us, then. No problem." Ginny lifted her gun, no longer aiming at him, and a faint smile appeared on her face. "You and Vice Admiral Benn are quite close, aren't you?"
"One of us?" Spandine was completely stunned. Since when did I join the Revolutionary Army?
But the moment he heard the name "Benn," everything clicked, and he hurried to respond, "That's right, that's right! I have an excellent relationship with Vice Admiral Benn. We're good friends!"
"Vice Admiral Benn is also friends with my boss, so his friends are our friends." Ginny walked over and patted the still-shaken Spandine on the shoulder.
Spandine finally let out a long breath. This suicide mission had taken a ridiculous turn for the better.
The connections of Boss Ortoren were terrifying—he actually had ties to the Revolutionary Army… Though Spandine had long suspected as much. Someone like Ortoren, a supposed loyal servant of the World Government? How could he not have dealings with the Revolutionaries?
Forget Ortoren—even Spandine himself, if given the chance, would gladly build some ties with the Revolutionary Army.
But before he could follow that thought to the end, Ginny hooked an arm around his shoulder, grinning.
"Since we're friends, we need you to help us with a little favor. There's classified intel upstairs with a self-destruct system. You should be able to open it, right?"
Being no fool, Spandine instantly understood. The Revolutionary Army wouldn't give him special treatment just because of Ortoren's connections. They were using that relationship as leverage to exploit him for more intel on the CP Agency.
And beyond that, they'd probably want to turn him into a coerced informant—a Revolutionary Army sleeper inside CP.
He understood all of this clearly, but he also knew he had no choice. If he refused, no connection would save him—he'd die here today.
"My access might only open some of it…" Spandine swallowed.
"Better than nothing. That works. Come on…" Ginny grabbed him and dragged him upstairs without hesitation.
...
Meanwhile, high above Holy Land, Ortoren was locked in a fierce clash with Shiki. Lightning and thunder roared wildly, cutting through the blazing night sky.
Feeling the timing was right, Ortoren hammered Shiki again, knocking him straight out of the sky. Shiki crashed down hard beside a street already burned to ruins.
Ortoren's form streaked after him like a bolt of lightning, plunging into the smoke.
After landing, Ortoren let out a small breath of relief, sat on a shattered stone block, set his warhammer aside, and said, "Putting on a show like this is exhausting, isn't it?"
Issho emerged from somewhere, wiping sweat from his forehead. "I'm more exhausted than you, don't you think? I have to control Shiki and 'fight' you…"
As he spoke, Issho pulled a pocket watch from his coat and checked the time. "We've got about an hour before we should pull back. We can't predict how Holy Land will respond. If they drag Admirals like Sengoku into this, the act will fall apart."
The plan to burn Holy Land was meant to take place at night, but nowhere did it say they had to rampage for the entire night. About two hours was enough. The longer they stayed, the higher the risk of mistakes.
As long as the main objectives were achieved, that was all that mattered.
For Ortoren, his main goal was already accomplished: throw Holy Land into chaos, let Shiki show his face and take the blame, and afterward capture Shiki to earn credit for the Marines.
For Rayleigh, rescuing the Boa sisters was his objective. Given his abilities and the current confusion, that should be easy. He might even have finished already.
As for Tiger, the instant he lit the first barrels of gunpowder and fuel, he'd completed his goal of setting Holy Land ablaze. How many slaves they could free afterward came down to luck.
As for Dragon's Revolutionary Army, they were the rear guard. Ortoren had already explained everything to Dragon clearly: when time was up, his men would retreat. Whether Dragon chose to leave or continue causing havoc was none of Ortoren's business—as long as they didn't drag him into it.
Besides, Ortoren hadn't given Dragon any solid evidence. Even if something went wrong and blame fell on him, he wouldn't acknowledge a thing.
Then it would be up to the World Government to decide whether to believe the Revolutionary Army or the Vice Admiral who rushed to support Holy Land at the first moment.
Just as Issho and Ortoren were talking, a figure suddenly burst through the smoke, charging straight toward Shiki's position. With a sharp thrust, a blade pierced directly into Shiki's heart as he lay in the ruins!
The sudden turn of events left both Ortoren and Issho frozen in shock.
"Hm?" After plunging his blade into Shiki's chest, the figure frowned, murmuring, "Already dead?"
His voice was aged, and he wore a cloak similar to the Marines' Justice Mantle, except the two characters written on it were not "Justice" but "Commander-in-Chief." This sudden arrival was none other than the Commander-in-Chief of the entire military, Kessler.
Confirming Shiki's death, Kessler turned around.
"I didn't expect you to finish off Shiki so quickly, Vice Admiral Benn."
Ortoren looked at him, unsure how to recover the situation. According to the plan, Shiki was supposed to break through the encirclement next, and he would chase after him, using the chance to leave Holy Land. When the timing was right, he would return with Shiki's corpse to wrap everything up.
But before they even reached that stage, the Commander-in-Chief had suddenly appeared and stabbed Shiki directly in the heart, declaring him dead. How was he supposed to continue the act now?
And although Kessler hadn't yet noticed anything unusual amid the chaos, Ortoren was certain that once everything ended and the review began, the Commander-in-Chief would definitely sense something was wrong.
Countless thoughts flashed through his mind in the span of an instant. Ortoren stood up from the broken stone, pretending to be exhausted.
"Commander, this wasn't just my doing. Rear Admiral Issho deserves credit. His ability is the Zushi Zushi no Mi. Right when I knocked Shiki down, he struck and pinned Shiki in place. That's how I got the chance to finish him..."
Kessler turned toward Issho, nodding in approval.
"With soldiers like you—"
But before he could finish, a flash of lightning streaked through his peripheral vision. Ortoren emerged from the lightning, eyes full of killing intent.
Though he was already in his eighties, Kessler's reflexes were still sharp. He instantly sensed the danger and raised his blade to counter. But it was already too late. Just as he tried to move, an invisible gravitational force crushed down on him, slowing him for a split second.
Issho's gravity and Ortoren's lightning combined—placed here, even Whitebeard himself would have suffered greatly if caught off guard, let alone an eighty-year-old Commander-in-Chief who hadn't fought on the front lines for decades.
"Lightning Guillotine!!!" Ortoren unleashed a ruthless finishing strike, slashing across the Commander-in-Chief's neck and slamming him into the ground.
Issho's staff-blade was already drawn. In seamless coordination, he drove it into Kessler's heart and twisted, killing the Commander-in-Chief on the spot.
"I only meant to force your retirement... sigh..." Ortoren murmured, looking down at Kessler as the man clung to his last moments of life.
"You… traitor…" Kessler struggled to speak, but the words never fully formed. His head fell to the side, and he went still.
Issho pulled his staff-blade free and looked at Ortoren.
"What now?"
"What else?" Ortoren shrugged, then let anger surge across his face and shouted, "Shiki! You dare murder the Commander-in-Chief of our World Government's entire military! You're beyond redemption! I'll kill you myself!!!"
A pillar of thunderous light dropped from the sky in the next instant, swallowing everything around them and erasing all traces and evidence.