Pierced through the chest by Ortoren's laser beams, Shanks spat out a mouthful of blood as his body slammed into the ground, rolling several times before coming to a stop.
Gritting his teeth against the agony, he had just forced himself up when Ortoren was already right in front of him.
"Heavy Flow Explosion!!!"
Ortoren showed absolutely no restraint. Lightning flared violently around his body as he drove a savage elbow straight into Shanks' chest.
At point-blank range, there was no way to dodge. In that split second, Shanks wrapped his body in Haki. The next moment, Ortoren's elbow crashed into his chest. The dense Conqueror's Haki shattered instantly, and Shanks' ribcage caved in visibly.
At the same time, Shanks' eyes bulged outward, his face twisting as dark blood sprayed from his mouth.
For a brief instant, it felt as though time itself had frozen.
Then, in the next moment, Shanks' body spiraled backward, hurtling hundreds of meters through the air before smashing violently into the ruined pier.
"Shanks!!!"
Seeing this, Beckman cried out in shock.
He didn't spare Ochoku or Issho another thought. Abandoning the fight outright, he turned and sprinted toward Shanks.
He was fast, but Ortoren was faster.
Already transformed into a streak of light, Ortoren chased him down.
Amid the wreckage, Shanks felt his consciousness beginning to blur. Letting himself slip into unconsciousness almost felt easier.
But true to a Conqueror's Haki user, he crushed that thought instantly. His eyes snapped open, and pain assaulted him from every part of his body. His chest was the worst of it. His lungs were clearly crushed, who knew how many ribs were broken, and even breathing had become an ordeal.
His body was screaming that it was done for.
But Shanks knew one thing clearly.
If he didn't move now, he would die.
"It's over," Ortoren said coldly, murderous intent flashing in his eyes as he raised his arm.
Shanks roared and forced himself upright, trying to throw himself to the side.
But it was already too late.
"Lariat!!!"
Ortoren growled.
His Lightning Release Armor vanished in an instant. All of his power seemed to converge into his arm, the muscles swelling with terrifying force.
This blow was aimed straight at Shanks' neck.
At this critical moment, Beckman knew he couldn't make it in time. Shanks' movements were stiff, and there was no way he could evade Ortoren's Lariat.
At the very brink between life and death, a specially made bullet struck Ortoren squarely in the shoulder.
Bang!
Blood burst out as Ortoren's motion shifted slightly, as though he only just heard the distant gunshot.
Shanks instinctively seized that tiny opening and dove away.
But he was still a fraction too slow.
Another dull impact rang out as Ortoren's arm slammed into him.
Blood sprayed into the air as an arm was smashed clean off, spinning wildly as it flew.
It was Shanks' left arm.
In that split second, he had avoided the fatal blow aimed at his neck, but he couldn't fully escape the range of the attack. As he dove aside, Ortoren's arm crashed into his own, snapping his left arm off and flinging it away.
Even then, the terrifying force surged through the wound and into his body, flipping him midair before hurling him dozens of meters away.
At that moment, Ortoren finally saw who had fired the shot.
Out on the sea, a ship of the Red-Haired Pirates, the Red Sparrow. On the deck, Yasopp stood with his rifle raised, cold sweat pouring down his temples.
Right after that, a bulky figure burst out from the ruins, scooped up Shanks' blood-soaked body, already completely unconscious, and fled without looking back.
At the same time, Beckman launched a flying kick from behind Ortoren.
Ortoren merely shifted his body slightly, effortlessly dodging the strike.
Then he reached out and caught Shanks' severed arm as it fell from the air. He glanced at the end of it.
The hand was still tightly gripping the Meito, Gryphon.
Ortoren glanced at the wound on his shoulder again. The bullet had struck precisely at the same spot where he had been wounded before, now deformed and lodged against the hard bone of his arm.
"Beckman!!!" Yasopp shouted.
Beckman stood facing Ortoren, his voice firm as he spoke without turning his head, "Go! Leave now!"
"But..." Yasopp seemed like he wanted to say more.
Beckman growled in response, "This is the First Mate's order. I'm in charge now. Leave this place immediately!!!"
Yasopp understood what that meant. A flicker of sorrow crossed his eyes as he quickly ordered the ship to depart.
However, Ortoren made no move to chase them. A faint smile curled on his lips as he said, "Well now…"
"A deal!" Beckman turned to Ortoren and said, "This time, we were in the wrong. My idiot captain attacked you out of nowhere—it's our fault. But please, spare his life!"
Before Ortoren could respond, Beckman flipped the pistol in his hand and pressed it against his chest. "As payment, I offer you my life!"
Beckman knew that no matter how well the Red Sparrow performed, it wouldn't stand a chance against the Goro Goro no Mi. If Ortoren continued the pursuit, Shanks would certainly die. Not just Shanks—none of his crew would survive.
The only way to save them was to stop Ortoren here.
But Shanks' defeat had been so swift, and Beckman knew his own strength was slightly inferior to Shanks'. If he fought, he too would likely fall before Ortoren.
The outcome would be the same. Even if Ortoren took a bit longer dealing with him, he could still catch up to the Red Sparrow.
So Beckman chose this 'deal.'
Ortoren stared at Beckman, silent for a moment before asking, "Was it worth it?"
Beckman, still with a half-smoked cigarette between his lips, smiled faintly and replied, "What in this world can truly be measured as 'worth it' or 'not worth it'? At least right now, my mind is clear, and I have no regrets. Isn't that enough?"
Ortoren sighed softly. "After you die, that bastard Shanks will undoubtedly hunt me down without rest. If I spare him now, I'm letting go of someone who hates me to the core. Why would I agree to your deal?"
"Because of magnanimity!" Beckman answered without hesitation. "A hero like you, a man like you, doesn't care about how many enemies you have or whether they hate you to the bone. You'd probably even think they're not strong enough to truly threaten you... So your reason just now is nothing but an excuse. Whether Shanks lives or dies doesn't really matter to you—it's just a passing thought. Therefore, I ask you, please spare him!"
Hearing this, Ortoren let out a loud, booming laugh. "Ahahahahaha! To save that bastard's life, you're willing to flatter me like this, to praise me... Benn Beckman, trading your life, this arm, and this blade for that man's life isn't a bad deal. I accept your bargain!"
Beckman exhaled a sharp breath of relief when he heard Ortoren's response. Then, with a touch of reluctance, he glanced back.
He saw the Red Sparrow getting farther away, and a few warships from the Marine fleet breaking off to give chase.
But he didn't worry anymore.
He turned his gaze back to Ortoren and said, "Thank you."
The words had barely left his lips when Beckman pulled the trigger without hesitation. A shot rang out. His body swayed but didn't fall. Blood began to flow from the wound in his chest.
Ortoren stood motionless. Moments later, he could feel Beckman's life force fading completely.
"Rest easy... I'll send Ochoku and Silver Axe down soon. That way, you won't be alone on the road to the underworld." Ortoren stepped forward, took the unfinished cigarette from Beckman's lips, took a drag, and exhaled a puff of smoke before speaking softly.
He flicked the cigarette butt to the ground and crushed it underfoot. True to his word, he no longer paid any attention to Shanks and his crew.
Turning away, he refocused on the battlefield where Ochoku and Silver Axe were locked in intense combat.
...
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