Marianne pointed at the hole in the wax house and burst out laughing.

“Heh-heh, Galdino, didn’t you just say, ‘The people outside can’t possibly touch us’?”

Galdino’s face first showed embarrassment, then flushed red.

Hatchan, holding a steel lighter in one hand, was using its flame to melt the wax.

As the cook aboard the Terror Ghost, carrying a lighter around made perfect sense for him.

And fire, of course, was wax’s natural nemesis.

Galdino simply overturned the entire wax house, reclaiming all the wax, then turned both his arms into molten wax droplets. They poured across the ground like spilled ink, rapidly crawling toward Hatchan.

If he could just entangle the octopus fishman’s legs and let the wax harden, he could completely immobilize him!

After that, he could do whatever he pleased.

But single-minded as ever, Hatchan, once he realized fire could counter Galdino’s wax, decided to press that advantage.

He quickly pulled out a bottle of oil and hurled it onto the floor ahead.

As a chef, it was perfectly reasonable for him to carry cooking oil as well.

The bottle shattered, spilling oil everywhere, bubbles spreading out like blooming flowers.

Hatchan then flicked on his lighter and tossed it straight onto the oil.

Fwoosh—

Flames shot up like a curtain, instantly melting the wax flowing toward him. Even more shocking, Hatchan leapt through the wall of fire in a single bound, charging directly at Galdino.

Is this guy insane? Galdino thought. Is he not afraid of turning into takoyaki or grilled squid?

Stunned for an instant, he failed to react before Hatchan closed the distance between them.

The octopus man had indeed been scorched in places, blackened and giving off a strange aroma, but his straightforward nature meant he didn’t hesitate—and it gave him the perfect opening.

He raised all six of his swords, ready to slash at Galdino.

But at the last moment, his blades swerved off course, striking a red circle painted on the ground instead.

“Huh?” Hatchan blinked, then noticed a small girl standing beside him.

Marianne, as it turned out, had been prepared even back inside the wax house. She had already painted a red circle on the ground with her brush in advance.

Anyone stepping into it with hostile intent would be subconsciously compelled to attack the circle itself.

Marianne wasn’t a Devil Fruit user—her ability was closer to Jango’s “hypnotic suggestion,” except he used spinning rings, and she used paint.

Now she smiled at Hatchan and moved to dab him with yellow paint from her brush.

If it touched him, he would be seized by uncontrollable laughter and lose control of his movements for a short while.

Seeing her brush and paint, Galdino instantly guessed her intention. In perfect coordination, he molded his wax into a massive sword.

Once Marianne disabled Hatchan, Galdino would follow up with his giant wax blade—a blow even a fishman couldn’t endure!

But at that instant, neither of them noticed the attack from above.

“One-Ton Press!” A sharp, dangerous voice rang out.

Thud!

Just as Galdino raised the wax sword, two feet slammed down onto his shoulders!

A massive force crashed into him, dislocating his arms and smashing him into the floor, which cracked apart like an eggshell.

He plummeted to the level below.

The attacker was Mikita, who had been quietly watching from nearby.

Seeing Hatchan in danger reminded her of Crocodile’s cold stare and the hostility from Baroque Works’ senior agents. She decided to go all in.

She opened her parasol, floated into the air, and dropped onto the unsuspecting Galdino with her Devil Fruit power.

The strike landed so suddenly that she took him out with ease.

At the same time, Hatchan had stepped out of the red circle and was no longer under the hypnotic suggestion.

Seeing Marianne about to paint him, he didn’t even realize it was an attack—he just reacted on instinct.

Drawing in his abdomen and puffing out his chest, he aimed his long mouth like a blowgun and spat a jet of ink straight at her face.

Splurt—

“Ah!”

The inky black liquid splashed all over Marianne’s face, some getting in her eyes.

She cried out in pain, dropped her brush, and clutched at her eyes, stumbling around blindly like a headless fly until she smacked into a wall and collapsed flat on her back.

Hatchan sheathed all six swords, making no move to finish her off—she wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.

As for Galdino, smashed downstairs by Mikita, he was likely out of the fight as well.

Hatchan blinked, then turned to Mikita, scratching the back of his head before saying earnestly:

“Thanks.”

Mikita froze for a moment, her fake smile stiffening. She hadn’t expected this.

Anyone else would have realized she’d only acted because she had no choice—otherwise Baroque Works would come after her later. But this guy had thanked her so honestly.

Still, sincere gratitude was something she didn’t mind accepting.

Elsewhere, Alvida had already engaged Bentham (Mr. 2 Bon Clay). The two fought in the stairwell.

Bentham had eaten the Paramecia-type Clone-Clone Fruit, allowing him to perfectly copy another person’s appearance and body, as long as he’d touched their face before.

Using this power, he had impersonated King Cobra, committed numerous misdeeds, and framed the king for them.

But in this battle, his fruit ability offered no real advantage—instead, his “Okama Kenpō” (Okama Martial Arts) shone in full force.

Despite the name, Bentham’s fighting style relied almost entirely on his legs. His rapid, razor-sharp kicks gave him a ferocious edge, his feet easily smashing through walls with both speed and power.

After observing for a while and confirming Bentham had no other techniques, Alvida suddenly dropped her guard. She stopped using her spiked club to block and charged straight at him.

“Hm?” Bentham didn’t know why she was suddenly throwing caution aside, but he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity.

The swan-headed tips of his ballet shoes shot forward like spears, stabbing straight toward Alvida’s abdomen.

Such a beautiful woman—what a shame she’ll die here… he thought.

But in the next instant, his eyes went wide in shock.

The shoe tips that could pierce stone hit her belly and sank in like striking an oddly elastic jelly. The force was completely absorbed and then bounced back, knocking his attack aside!

Alvida’s spiked club swung in immediately—Bentham reacted just in time, but still took the blow to his right arm, sending him flying with her monstrous strength.

Thud!

He crashed into a wall, coughing blood. Struggling to his feet, he saw Alvida charging again and was forced to meet her with another barrage of Okama Kenpō.

But every strike he landed failed to harm her, while every swing of her club battered him brutally.

The exchange quickly left him covered in bruises and swelling, one false eyelash hanging loose, looking utterly miserable.

“Give it up,” Alvida said, lowering her club as she walked toward him. “You can’t beat me.”

Without Armament Haki, Bentham truly couldn’t hurt her.

He stood in place for a long moment, unable to think of any way to turn the fight around.

But he still lifted his chin high and declared in his sharp, ringing voice:

“As an okama, I can never back down! Charging forward is the true way of the okama!”

Alvida, baffled but impressed by his stubborn courage, raised her club to grant him his wish.

She smashed him like a ball, sending him flying through a window.

Glass shattered, and his body traced an arc through the air before crashing down onto the palace plaza.

This drew the attention of everyone fighting there.

The royal army and the rebel army stared at each other through the pouring rain, neither side breaking the tense silence.

Only the rebel leader, Koza, ignored his officers’ protests, walked past the royal soldiers, and crouched beside the fallen Bentham.

Bentham’s eyes were rolled back, his body battered—he was already unconscious.

Koza glanced at him, then looked toward the palace and made up his mind.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep