"Big Brother Arlong!"
The group of Fishmen hadn't run far when someone suddenly realized a crucial issue:
"Where are we supposed to run to now?"
"To Cocoyasi Village!" Arlong growled through gritted teeth, quickening his pace.
"If we can take a couple of villagers hostage, we might have a chance to escape."
The Fishmen's eyes lit up at the idea, and they hurriedly followed their boss, Arlong, fleeing in the direction of Cocoyasi Village.
"Big Brother Arlong!"
Another Fishman couldn't help calling out to their leader again.
This time it wasn't because they didn't know where to go—it was because their Big Brother Arlong was sprinting like the wind, his swift figure leaving a near-blurred afterimage in their vision.
Arlong's strength as the leader of the Fishmen was now on full display in this critical moment, creating a stark contrast between him and the physically inferior Fishman grunts.
"Wait for us…"
A Fishman instinctively voiced the thought on all their minds.
But Arlong didn't seem to hear them. In fact, his pace only got faster.
Naturally, he couldn't hear them—and even if he did, he'd pretend not to.
At a time like this, a life-or-death moment, how could he waste time waiting for the others?
The memories of being stomped into the ground and tortured by Kizaru back in his youth were still vivid in his mind. Arlong didn't dare hesitate for even a moment against someone with the power of a Logia user—let alone someone at Admiral level.
So before long, Arlong had completely vanished from sight, relying on his powerful physique to leave the rest of the Fishmen far behind.
But the grunts didn't have time to admire their leader's agile figure, because the Marines that had landed were now charging after them with murderous intent.
During this intense and deadly chase, two unlucky Fishmen who couldn't run fast enough were struck by Marine bullets.
After being shot mid-sprint, their momentum sent them crashing to the ground, performing a high-difficulty faceplant worthy of a dead fish flop.
Meanwhile, Smoker—the human-shaped smoke jetpack—and Garen—who possessed acceleration abilities—were right behind the fleeing Fishmen, almost upon them.
Hearing the shouts and killing intent drawing closer, Kuroobi at the front of the group suddenly faltered and slowed his pace.
"What are you doing?!"
Hatchan shouted anxiously, "If we don't hurry, it'll be too late!"
"The Marines are too close. At this rate, none of us will escape."
Kuroobi's voice was heavy with resolve:
"I'll stay behind. You take the others and run!"
"Kuroobi!"
Tears welled up in Hatchan's eyes as he tried to persuade him, "That man is way too strong—you'll die!"
"Big Brother Kuroobi!"
The Fishman grunts turned to him with eyes full of admiration and reluctance.
"Don't worry about me. This isn't the time for hesitation!"
Kuroobi suddenly clenched his fists, tears brimming in his eyes. His footsteps slowed even more, but the strength in his hands grew, and his expression filled with grim determination.
Hatchan still hesitated, and a few moved Fishmen even started slowing down to stay with Kuroobi.
"No more words!"
Kuroobi came to a complete stop. His body stood firm as a rock and upright like a pine tree.
"To die at the hands of a man of that level is the best end a warrior could ask for!"
"Take care!"
Hatchan gave Kuroobi a firm nod, tears slipping down his face as he turned to flee with the remaining Fishmen.
The noise faded, and silence returned to the world around Kuroobi.
He felt as though the entire world had narrowed to just himself—and the beautiful, tragic death about to arrive.
In his line of sight, the invincible knight with an awe-inspiring reputation drew ever closer.
In this final moment of his life, Kuroobi found his thoughts drifting through his lackluster past: A thug in the slums of Fishman Island, a nobody in the Sun Pirates, and later a minor officer in the Arlong Pirates in the East Blue.
No accomplishments, and a downward spiral the whole way.
But to his surprise, in this final moment of life, he was about to greet a glorious death.
"The man who can go toe-to-toe with Garp, huh…"
Kuroobi muttered to himself, the corners of his lips curving into a self-deprecating smirk.
"You didn't kill me back in the sea... just because I was too weak, right?"
"So weak... that someone like you didn't even consider me worth attacking…"
As he spoke, Kuroobi's eyes suddenly lit up with fierce determination. His body—like forged iron—burst forth with overwhelming aura.
"I was wrong!"
Clenching his fists, thick veins bulging on his arms, raw power surged into his iron fists:
"Ever since I came to the East Blue, I haven't thrown a punch at anyone strong."
"My Fishman Karate… has become nothing but a tool to bully the weak."
And now, Garen had arrived—charging toward him with deadly momentum, his greatsword slicing through the air with a brilliant arc of golden light, aimed straight at the unmoving Kuroobi.
"Thank you."
Kuroobi recalled the pure-hearted resolve he once had while training in Fishman Karate. At that moment, the spirit of a true warrior began to stir again:
"For letting me, in this last moment… rediscover the true essence of Fishman Karate!"
He planted his feet like iron stakes, dropped into a firm stance, and launched a long-prepared punch at the oncoming Garen:
"Fishman Karate—Thousand Tile True Fist!"
His fist flew like an arrow, his strike thundered like a storm. In an instant, Kuroobi unleashed a dazzling white shockwave like a rainbow streaking through the sky.
The Thousand Tile True Fist—a technique powerful enough to shatter a thousand tiles with a single punch underwater.
Kuroobi had been stuck at the "one thousand tiles" level for years, wasting his time bullying the weak in remote East Blue villages.
But now, in this life-and-death moment, this punch shattered the limit of "a thousand tiles."
Kuroobi couldn't help but smile freely. In his heart, he thought:
"To have unleashed this punch…"
"My life is complete!"
Even though this punch had broken through his martial limits, Kuroobi never believed it would defeat a warrior with the strength of a Marine Admiral.
He simply wanted this to be his final performance—an end befitting a warrior's pride, to die gloriously at the hands of a supreme powerhouse.
But then… to everyone's astonishment—
The fierce white shockwave from his punch slammed into that so-called "invincible" knight—and sent him flying.
The man tumbled through the air and crashed into the ground, carving out a deep trench as he skidded.
The legendary powerhouse—struck by that one punch—now lay motionless.
"…What the hell?"
Kuroobi's eyes widened. Disbelief spread across his face.
He looked down at his own fist, his expression turning dazed and confused.
Kuroobi suddenly started doubting the truth of his own power.
But the battle wasn't over yet—
The "invincible" knight collapsed in the dirt… suddenly dissolved into a puff of smoke.
"…What?!"
Kuroobi was even more confused now.
WHAM!
A heavy thud rang out.
Before Kuroobi could recover, a blunt impact struck his back.
He dropped to the ground immediately.
Garen stood behind him, his greatsword still mid-swing.
With his spine struck hard, Kuroobi completely lost control of his body. The searing pain left him paralyzed.
"Y-You…"
Lying injured on the ground, Kuroobi used the corner of his eye to glance at the "supreme warrior" who had just hit him from behind. His face contorted in rage and pain.
"A strong man like you…"
"How can you use such a despicable trick?!"
The fury and humiliation on Kuroobi's face were beyond words.
This pathetic way of dying… had absolutely nothing to do with the glorious death he had imagined.
"…Huh?"
Garen looked confused by his outburst.
Kuroobi, infuriated by Garen's clueless expression, felt his eyes burning red with anger.
"…Forget it."
With that, Garen swung down his sword:
"Let's just collect the kill first."
(End of Chapter)