One Piece: Surrounded at Marineford? Just kidding!

Chapter 520: Revisiting My Youth!

White vapor splattered outside the No. 0 treatment pod. The corridor was extremely hot. The air was scalded by the heat wave, creating ripples.

Chen Ye put his hands in his pockets. His gaze passed over the white beard. He stared intently at the alloy door at the far end of the treatment area.

The mechanical lock made a screeching sound from friction.

"Click".

The isolation door slid open.

There was no shockwave. There was no loud noise.

Only a sharp electrical sound could be heard.

Dark red sparks of electricity pierced through the crack in the door. They darted erratically along the metal floor, charring the surface of the alloy plate.

Footsteps sounded.

Shanks stepped into the light, riding on white vapor.

Chen Ye looked over. Vegapunk's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. The skinny old man lunged forward, his face almost touching the holographic screen.

Everyone stared intently at Shanks' left shoulder.

Twelve years.

A position missing for twelve years. The great swordsman sighed at the broken edge.

It was filled with a complete arm.

The newborn skin glowed with a healthy hue. The skin tone blended perfectly between the left and right sides. Muscles bulged. Like steel freshly cast from a mold. Full of power.

No sutures. No mechanical interfaces. No clone paleness.

This is a living arm. The arm of the Four Emperors, Shanks.

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Shanks stopped. He lowered his head. He stared intently at his left hand.

Raise your left arm. The movement is steady. There is no tremor.

Five long fingers spread out. The knuckles cracked. The newly formed cartilage fit perfectly into the joint.

Clasp your five fingers together in your palm.

Index finger. Middle finger. Ring finger. Little finger. Thumb.

He clenched his fist tightly.

boom.

The air exploded with a dull thud. A sonic boom generated by the pure force of the body.

The movements were fluid. There was no awkwardness. There was no neural delay. There was no rejection.

This is not a technological replacement. This is a real limb that has grown back from the bones and blood.

Shanks grinned wildly.

Raise your left arm to your ear, close to your cheek. Rotate your shoulder joint forcefully.

Crackle, crackle.

The joints cracked and popped. Nerve endings, dormant for twelve years, were fully awakened. A powerful, domineering aura surged into the newly formed meridians.

Shanks' eyes turned cold.

He gripped the scabbard with his right hand. His left hand covered the Griffin Cross handguard.

Twelve years later, he once again gripped his sword with both hands.

A push with the thumb.

Zheng.

Griffin pulled out a three-pointer. A cold glint illuminated the white steam.

Shanks didn't fully draw his sword. He didn't aim properly. He didn't unleash his Conqueror's Haki.

He gripped the knife handle with both hands. Facing the empty corridor, he made a casual, horizontal slash.

There was no slicing wave. There was no roar.

An invisible blade swept across the ground, as thin as a cicada's wing.

The white vapor, about twenty meters directly in front, was instantly split in two. The mist was forcibly separated, revealing a straight vacuum channel in the middle.

One second later.

clack.

At the end of the corridor. Three metal signs on the ceiling broke off. The lower half crashed to the ground.

The cut is as smooth as a mirror, reflecting the red light at the top.

Extremely sharp. Extremely precise.

This is a man who rivals the world's greatest swordsman. A true pinnacle of swordsmanship.

Shanks rotates his wrist.

Clang.

Griffin returned to its sheath.

Look down. Then look at your left hand. Clench your fist tightly with your backhand. The fingertips feel incredibly realistic.

He looked up. He saw Vegapunk behind the control panel. The old man rubbed his hands together excitedly.

"Old man."

Shanks laughed loudly. His laughter was arrogant and unrestrained.

"I'll credit you for this favor first."

His eyes turned dangerous. His voice lowered.

"I've gotten back the twelve years that were missing."

The severed arm has been repaired. The sea lord has once again reigned supreme.

The sound of a third group of footsteps came from deep within.

There was no heavy, pounding sound of Whitebeard's footsteps. There was no arrogance of Shanks.

The footsteps were extremely regular.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The rhythm was extremely steady. The spacing and weight of each step were perfectly precise.

The dragon emerged.

The remaining white vapor in the corridor twisted eerily.

The thick fog wasn't violently dispersed. The white vapor approached him within half a meter. Suddenly, it was shredded by the airflow.

The large cloud of mist condensed into extremely fine threads, clinging to the ceiling and floor, and dissipating in all directions.

The dragon stopped.

His dull, tired skin glowed with a vibrant red. The dark red tattoos on his face twitched with the slightest movement of his muscles, making him appear increasingly menacing.

The chest heaves.

With each breath he takes, the air pressure in the corridor changes drastically.

Exhale. The air rushes outward. The white beard and overcoat flutter in the wind.

Inhale. The air rushes back in violently. The surrounding air is almost sucked away.

He has become a moving eye of the storm.

The dragon didn't waste any words. Its eyes swept across the corridor.

Raise your right hand. Palm facing up. Spread your fingers.

Shattered metal lampshades on the ground. Screws. Glass shards. Violent tremors.

call.

A cyan whirlwind formed in the palm of the dragon.

Fragments shot into the air, caught in the whirlwind, and collided violently in mid-air, the metallic scraping sound echoing loudly.

In the blink of an eye, the waste was forcibly compressed into a high-density vortex sphere the size of a fist.

Long's gaze darkened. He slammed his left hand against his right.

Bring your palms together.

call out.

The high-density fragment sphere exploded. Countless tiny afterimages followed with shrill screams, hurtling towards the alloy wall on the right.

There was no large explosion. Only a series of muffled thuds.

Metal fragments and glass shards. All firmly embedded in the solid sidewall.

The wall surface is covered with perfectly regular circular rings. Each fragment is spaced evenly. The depth of insertion is precise.

Not a single fragment deviated from its designated path.

Chen Ye's eyes narrowed.

It wasn't just an increase in power. The dragon's control over the wind element had broken through its limitations. It possessed terrifying microscopic-level control. It could instantly set independent trajectories for hundreds or even thousands of fragments.

The white-bearded man leaned on the cloud-kiri.

Shanks rests his left hand on the hilt of his sword.

The dragon's hands hung down at its sides.

The three stood side by side.

The king of the old era. The overlord of the new era. The leader of the revolutionary army.

Three top-tier auras converged. The physiotherapy corridor completely collapsed.

Woo woo woo.

The highest level of alert is activated. Red lights are flashing rapidly.

The wall-mounted monitoring screen emitted a hissing sound. The image became distorted, turning into a snowy screen.

The main power line burned out. Backup power switched on. The dim emergency lights shone down, casting three menacing shadows.

In the distance of the corridor, dozens of lab personnel were crushed to death by an invisible giant hand. Their legs went weak, their faces were deathly pale, and they dared not even breathe. Ordinary people simply could not withstand the residual force.

Vegapunk stood behind the main control panel.

He stared at the three monsters. Three perfect works of art. His emaciated body trembled violently.

The world's number one brain has been successfully stunned.

"Hahahahaha!"

Vegapunk laughed maniacally, slamming his hands on the keyboard. A holographic projection appeared in front of the three.

A massive blue light screen. Data streams cascaded down like a waterfall.

He pointed at the light screen and shouted out the numbers.

"Edward Newgate!"

"Physical peak performance pushed to the limit! Hidden ailments eliminated! Cardiopulmonary overload! Muscle density 30% higher than at its prime!"

The white-bearded man snorted coldly. Then he grinned wildly.

"Shanks!"

Vegapunk's fingers swiped wildly.

"Perfect reconnection of nerves in the severed limb! Overwhelmingly powerful conduction beyond limits! The capacity limit of your left arm is unmeasurable! Your left arm is a top-tier energy channel!"

Shanks chuckled. He flicked the air with his left hand.

"And you! Monkey D. Dragon!"

Spit sprayed onto the screen.

"The cell recombination stability rate is outrageous! The wind element fusion rate is 99.9%! I didn't even anticipate such an abnormal compatibility!"

Vegapunk abruptly sat bolt upright, ignoring the alarm. He slammed both hands down on the projection table.

There is only one conclusion!

The old man's voice echoed. The ecstatic joy of a final, definitive conclusion.

"Genetic recombination was a complete success!"

"Listen up, you three."

"You didn't just return to your peak. You stepped on the peak's head and forcibly climbed even higher!"

The will to fight was completely ignited.

"Guralalalalala!"

The white-bearded man threw his head back and laughed wildly. He exerted force with his right arm, hoisting the heavy Murakumogiri onto his shoulder. The massive blade flashed with a bloodthirsty, cold light.

"That feels great! This body feels so good!"

The white-bearded man was extremely arrogant.

"Let's smash up the Marine Headquarters now. One cleaver from me will be enough to keep them repairing for half a year!"

Shanks stood to the side, flexing his left hand. His gaze swept over the wall, his eyes filled with a burning desire to test his sword.

"Forget about the Navy Headquarters."

Shanks rubbed his thumb against the hilt of his knife. The sound was sharp and menacing.

"Those guys are having a tough time lately. I'd like to try my luck with the Knights of God."

"I haven't wielded a sword with both hands for twelve years. I wonder if I have enough bones left to cut through the Celestial Dragons."

The dragon had no expression.

"Let's talk about the task first."

The words had barely left his mouth when the wind blade in his palm spun even more wildly, the turbulent air cutting through the air with a sharp whistling sound.

Their fighting spirit is in no way weaker. It's even purer. It's even more deadly.

Chen Ye stood a few meters away.

He coldly watched the three monsters transform. He watched the newfound power materialize into tangible killing intent.

The sharpest blades are forged. These three blades are enough to cut through any fortress. Enough to tear apart any god.

Chen Ye pulled his hand away.

Without further ado, he turned and strode towards the control room.

The black overcoat was ripped up by the strong wind.

"Now that the knife is sharpened, don't use it to chop up useless wood."

Chen Ye spoke as he walked. His voice wasn't loud, but it pierced through the alarm and resonated in everyone's ears.

"Next."

"Go chop the hardest bones."

The hardest bone.

The moment those five words were uttered, the corridor fell deathly silent.

The white-bearded man's maniacal laughter ceased. A sharp glint flashed in his eyes. Murakumo Slashed down.

Shanks tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword with his left hand. His knuckles turned white. A surge of sword energy reverberated within the scabbard.

The dragon raised its eyes. The surrounding wind pressure receded into its body. It stared intently at Chen Ye's back.

Three people. Three forces capable of destroying the world.

No hesitation.

Take a step at the same time. Follow Chen Ye.

Military boots. Wooden clogs. Leather shoes. Stepping on a metal surface.

It made a muffled sound.

The death knell tolled.

Ahead. A real meat grinder.