The officer's uniform differed significantly from those of the regular soldiers. Bellamy, now seeking answers, singled him out. Torture happened to be his forte. He grabbed the officer's right arm and brutally twisted it like a pretzel. The level of agony inflicted would make even a man of iron tremble violently. The officer didn't even have time to scream before fainting dead away from the pain.
A few sharp slaps brought him back to consciousness. Bellamy, now smiling faintly, posed his question. "So, you lot... why exactly did you attack me?"
The officer hardly dared to answer. One look told him Bellamy was a vicious, ruthless individual. If he dared speak the truth—that it was simple greed—he'd surely meet a gruesome end the very next second. Clinging to his life, the officer frantically started concocting stories. But the pathetic lies he spun—mistaken identity, taking a wrong turn, his gun accidentally discharging—were frankly insulting to Bellamy's intelligence. Who was he trying to fool?
Bellamy hadn't intended to waste time here, but this fellow... he seemed to have some backbone. Bellamy appreciated stubbornness; those who broke too easily earned only his contempt. Seeing the officer resolved to silence, Bellamy's expression gradually turned serious.
"Next, I will employ some rather... cruel methods," Bellamy stated calmly. "I hope you can endure." He always held a certain appreciation for the brave.
Heaven help him! Hearing Bellamy's words, the officer nearly wet his trousers. So that incredibly brutal arm-twisting... that was just a warm-up?!
"NO! DON'T! I'll talk! I'll tell you everything!"
The eventual answer left Bellamy somewhat speechless, a mix of amusement and exasperation washing over him. All this fuss, and ultimately, it was just over a bit of money. How much treasure had he brought ashore this time? Pawned off in a black market, it might fetch around fifty million Beli, perhaps. For an ordinary person, that was a fortune unattainable in several lifetimes. It was hardly surprising the man had succumbed to greed.
With a swift kick that ended the bastard's life, Bellamy launched himself into the air with Moon Walk. Soon, he spotted the kingdom's main army assembling in the distance.
"I was already being sufficiently low-key," he sighed to himself. "Why do some people just insist on seeking death?" Running away was out of the question. Crushing this country's military seemed the only logical response.
"You two," he called down, presumably to Mia and Muret who were likely still near the clothing store or heading towards the black market, "go buy everything we need at the black market. I'll be right back." They had made Vivre Cards back in Neon Town; finding each other again wouldn't be a problem.
Hands stuffed casually in his pockets, Bellamy strolled leisurely through the air. Surveying the kingdom from his vantage point, its entire layout entered his view. He quickly identified the Noble District—the inner city—then the Poor District, the Commercial District, and the Port District. The contrast between the inner and outer cities was stark, like two entirely different worlds occupying the same space. Despite living in the same city, the nobles had walled themselves off behind imposing fortifications. On one side lay dirty, cluttered streets lined with dilapidated shacks; on the other, wide, clean avenues flanked by ornate buildings brimming with artistic flair. The disparity was so blatant, Bellamy would have had trouble not noticing it.
Having developed a habit of reading newspapers since arriving in this world, Bellamy found this situation utterly unsurprising. The vast majority of nations in this world operated like this. It seemed nobles felt they couldn't demonstrate their superiority without physically separating themselves from the common folk. The Celestial Dragons, by their very existence, set a fine example for the world's royalty and aristocracy.
News of the "pirate invasion" quickly spread throughout the kingdom, gradually bringing the nation to a boil. Large numbers of soldiers began pouring out from the inner city, heading towards the commercial district where the initial confrontation occurred. The alarm had also been sounded in the port district; numerous sturdy sailors disembarked from warships and were rapidly mustering. Guard units in other districts seemed to have received orders as well, beginning to blockade streets.
Bellamy observed all this clearly from the sky. He made a quick calculation: fewer than a thousand regular soldiers, perhaps five hundred assorted militia and auxiliaries, plus numerous city guards and sailors. That seemed to be the entirety of Lvneel Kingdom's visible military strength. It looked somewhat pathetic, but this was the North Blue; such a force was likely sufficient to protect a kingdom here. Furthermore, the royalty and nobility undoubtedly possessed hidden forces—those would be the true trump cards safeguarding the nation.
To subdue this country, all he needed to do was pay a visit to the King. Crush their hidden aces, and these people would quickly learn obedience.
That was Bellamy's thought process, and that's precisely what he did.
He strode purposefully through the air towards the inner city of Lvneel Kingdom. Such a brazen approach quickly drew everyone's attention. A man walking on air was astonishing enough, let alone a pirate doing so.
When the King received news of this development, he nearly leaped off his throne in panic. "Guards! Guards! Recall the soldiers immediately!" He had only just dispatched all his troops, and now that audacious pirate was heading straight for the royal palace!
Bellamy made absolutely no attempt to conceal his movements. By the time he swaggered up to the main palace gates, a contingent of soldiers had already formed ranks, standing rigidly in formation, awaiting him. These fodder troops naturally didn't warrant his attention. However, positioned behind them were five towering warriors clad in full plate armor, and these did catch Bellamy's eye.
They're tall, he noted. These warriors stood over three meters high, considerably taller than him. While height didn't perfectly correlate with combat prowess, it was often a good indicator of physical strength. These five must be one of Lvneel Kingdom's trump cards. Five of them... they look like they might be mass-produced. Bellamy found himself intrigued by their potential training methods. I should probably leave one alive later.
As he was observing these warriors with interest, a voice attempting to sound authoritative echoed from behind the formation. "Pirate! You have astounding nerve, daring to invade the Lvneel Kingdom! I, King Bululu III, representing the dignity of all nobility within this kingdom, shall hereby deliver your punishment! Surrender now, and perhaps you shall suffer less torture!"
This speaker, presumably, was the King himself. Seeing his fat, pig-like figure, Bellamy instantly lost all interest. Before the King could finish his pompous declaration, Bellamy spun and unleashed a kick.
Tempest Kick: Sweeping Cut. As one of Bellamy's most frequently used techniques, he had long since mastered it. The kick sent a blade of compressed air, over ten meters long, instantly sweeping across everything in its path. The ordinary soldiers positioned in front were sliced down where they stood. The slash only dissipated when it slammed against the plate-armored warriors behind them. The incredibly sharp blade of air screeched against the heavy plate mail, sounding like grinding steel and throwing off a shower of sparks. The five tall warriors, working in unison, managed to endure the slash.
However, their position had been behind the main line, specifically to protect the King. The soldiers in front of them were now all dead, blood rapidly pooling across the ground. The King, who had been blustering moments ago, shrieked in terror, completely losing control of his bladder. "Guards! Guards, save me!" Despite being completely unharmed, his cries were louder than anyone else's.
Bellamy scoffed in disgust. Using Spring Step, he appeared instantly behind the armored warriors. He delivered a swift finger-tap to the back of each warrior's head – a Finger Pistol application. His finger strength was formidable enough to pierce steel; their helmets offered negligible protection. With those taps, the warriors collapsed—some dead, some unconscious. In the blink of an eye, the King stood alone and exposed.
"Wait!" Just as Bellamy prepared to casually swat this repulsive 'vermin,' his Observation Haki suddenly flickered. Something's wrong. There's someone else nearby.
He frowned, instantly expanding his Haki outwards, rapidly blanketing the surroundings. At that exact moment, a sharp gust of wind rushed silently towards the back of his head.
Clink.
With impossible precision, Bellamy caught a dagger between two fingers, making it seem as though the weapon had intentionally flown right into his grasp. They almost got me! This assassin's footwork is incredible.
Bellamy looked at the assassin who had appeared seemingly from nowhere, his eyes filled with curiosity. "Where did you just pop out from? Try that again." He released the dagger, openly inviting the assassin to make another attempt. If it hadn't been for his Observation Haki, that dagger truly could have wounded him.
His curiosity thoroughly piqued, all thoughts of Lvneel Kingdom and its pathetic King vanished from Bellamy's mind. "Please," he said, taking a couple of steps back, gesturing for the assassin not to be nervous. "Don't doubt yourself. Use the same footwork you just employed to ambush me," he explained again, quite sincerely.
The assassin was visibly flustered by his bizarre behavior. She had never encountered an enemy like this before—one who caught her red-handed, only to release her immediately. Not only released her but actively encouraged her to try attacking again. What on earth does he want?
While the assassin hesitated, overwhelmed by confusion, the King was still screaming hysterically, having witnessed his elite plate-armored knights fall in an instant. "Help me! Someone save me!" The man, completely unharmed, possessing functional arms and legs, seemed utterly incapable of doing anything besides shrieking for aid.
A King like this... one can only imagine how corrupt this kingdom truly is. Yet, Bellamy recalled his earlier observation: the common people seemed to be living relatively decent lives. There had to be some hidden circumstances at play here that he didn't understand.
Not that Bellamy cared. Right now, his sole focus was on figuring out what kind of footwork technique that assassin had just used to get so close to him undetected.
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