#690 - Chapter 490: The Bloody Dawn of Punk Hazard

Above Punk Hazard, storm clouds gathered, and the air was thick with the scent of an impending storm, as if even nature sensed the tempest brewing on the island.

The island's architecture still exuded a cold, metallic aura. White towers and prison-like walls proclaimed the World Government's dominion.

But now, all of that had been shattered.

The Navy's fleet had firmly seized the island, once a vital territory of the World Government, its flags snapping in the sea breeze.

The battle on the island had concluded. With the final cannon blast, the World Government's high-ranking officials, who had once oppressed the islanders and controlled everything, had been eliminated one by one.

"Seize all classified documents and thoroughly cleanse the island of the World Government's remnants."

Sakazuki's voice was deep and stern. He stood on the bridge, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze piercing through the clouds, surveying the entirety of Punk Hazard.

His face was devoid of emotion, his icy gaze fixed on a single objective: to erase all traces of the World Government from this land.

He wasn't rushing into a full-scale offensive. Instead, relying on his experience and caution, he directed the Navy's forces to sweep through the island, ensuring no corner was left unchecked.

Every World Government warehouse, every former control center, was thoroughly inspected.

Despite the Navy's victory, Sakazuki knew that the World Government's hidden forces hadn't been completely eradicated.

"Shush... shush..."

Footsteps echoed through the desolate streets as Navy soldiers traversed Punk Hazard's districts, tools in hand, clearing away the debris.

Sakazuki's gaze frequently swept from the bridge to every corner of the island, as if anticipating something.

Although the battle on the island had largely ended, he remained vigilant.

Sakazuki knew that the World Government's concern for Punk Hazard was far greater than the outside world imagined.

Behind these warehouses and facilities lay classified documents accumulated over the World Government's long history, valuable weapon technologies, and perhaps even some yet-to-be-uncovered conspiracies.

An officer approached, reporting in a low voice:

"Vice Admiral Sakazuki, all warehouses have been cleared, and all classified documents have been seized."

Sakazuki nodded, his voice still cold.

"Continue to strengthen patrols, ensuring no embers are rekindled."

His gaze swept across the distant reaches of the island, and he paused in silence, as if contemplating something.

"Expedite preparations and begin clearing the data from the government warehouses to prevent information leaks."

"Yes, Vice Admiral Sakazuki."

The officer acknowledged and turned to leave.

Night deepened, and Sakazuki's gaze grew even more stern.

Even though the battle was over, the island wasn't peaceful. A sense of tension still permeated the air, as if an even greater storm was brewing.

He knew that the World Government wouldn't give up so easily; they would surely retaliate, perhaps already laying their plans in secret.

But he wasn't afraid.

"To pave a bright path for the New Navy, we must tread on their corpses,"

Sakazuki's heart surged, like a lightning bolt across the sky.

To achieve his convictions, he never feared sacrifice, nor would he tolerate any treacherous forces.

In the distance, the warehouses of Punk Hazard remained brightly lit, the Navy soldiers busily clearing every document and processing every piece of material that once belonged to the World Government.

A cold wind howled, stirring scattered papers and broken metal.

This island, once a symbol of the World Government, a fortress of oppression and dominion, would now become the starting point for the New Navy, a symbol of future resistance against the World Government.

Sakazuki's fists clenched slightly, his gaze like a blade, fixed on this former center of darkness.

"This is just the beginning."

He muttered to himself.

......

Thump!

A barrel landed heavily on the deck, breaking the silence of the sea with a dull thud.

Douglas Barrett raised a weary hand and gently rubbed his eyes.

The night was deep, and he was all alone. Only the endless waves crashed against the hull in the lonely night, producing low echoes.

He stood alone on the remote harbor of the small island, and as far as he could see, the sea in front of him was pitch black, surrounded only by the silent sea breeze and the occasional passing seabird.

A cold smile crept onto Barrett's lips, his gaze deep and icy.

Even such a lonely island couldn't conceal the flame within him—the desire for a challenge.

Setting down the barrel, Barrett wiped away his sweat and bent down to drag a massive iron hammer from the ship's hold. The heavy hammer emanated a chilling aura, a stark contrast to the surrounding tranquility.

He didn't care about the loneliness and desolation around him. Instead, Barrett reveled in this solitude.

No one could disturb him, no one could restrain him.

He was free, like the boundless sea.

Several freshly opened bottles of liquor lay scattered beside the barrel. Barrett downed one in a single gulp, the liquor burning down his throat, bringing a burst of exhilarating pleasure.

A ferocious grin appeared on his face, his eyes filled with an unquenchable ambition.

"Im is dead, and the World Government has finally revealed a weakness... The Navy's attention is also being diverted."

He murmured, his voice low and hoarse.

The island before him was not far from Navy Headquarters, and Barrett had already made his plans.

The battle he had just experienced was only the tip of the iceberg. What followed would be the real challenge.

Since Im's death, the World Government's control had begun to gradually crumble, and the pirates who had once been imprisoned were escaping and running rampant.

Barrett knew that the Navy was now busy dealing with the rampaging pirates and had no spare strength to deal with a great pirate like him.

That's why he felt that now was the best time to strike again.

The small island in front of him was just a transit point for him, and his next target was obviously Navy Headquarters—the place that symbolized order and justice.

He swung the heavy iron hammer in his hand, producing a dull thud.

A few cunning and arrogant expressions appeared on his face.

Barrett was already tired of drifting at sea. Although he roamed around alone, the insatiable desire for battle in his heart still drove him forward.

"Navy Headquarters..."

Barrett murmured, his eyes becoming sharper, like a hungry beast eyeing the target that was about to become his prey.

"This time, no one can stop me."

He slowly stood up, took a deep breath, and felt the sea breeze brush against his face.

His eyes were deep, with a kind of fervor and determination that could not be ignored.

At sea, he was always a lone challenger, challenging the strong and challenging all the rules of the world.

Whether it was the Navy or other pirates, if anyone dared to stop him, he would destroy them without hesitation.

"Navy, you are my next target to challenge."

Barrett's voice was low and heavy, with a hint of imperceptible smile.

He strode toward the bow of the ship, his eyes fixed on the distant sea.

The Navy Headquarters, which symbolized order, was the stage for his next battle.

And Barrett believed that before that, no force could defeat him in this sea.

...