Chapter 75: What I Mean Is That Everyone Present Here Is Trash [Third Update]

High above, two crimson birds soared across the sky. The capital, Alabana, was almost within reach, but below, the battle between the rebel army and the royal forces had already begun. On a battlefield where a million fought, corpses lay everywhere, rivers of blood flowed, and the fighting was nothing short of brutal.

Vivi's tears streamed down her face; this country was plagued by death at every moment. The deafening cries of battle and screams of anguish pierced her heart like steel needles.

“Lord Shu Mingyuan, please take me to the front lines! I will stop this war!” she pleaded.

The young man looked at her in silence. It was his first time witnessing a battle involving millions, and he too was shaken. The carnage was so intense, it seemed as if the clouds above would shatter from the force. Fortunately, his will was strong; he was only stunned for a moment before regaining composure.

“To let you down? Such a massive war is beyond human power to halt. Unless their leaders give the order, or one side claims victory, this conflict will continue—and only grow more savage.”

“If you wish to stop this war, you must first find your father and persuade the rebel leader, Kosha. Only then is there a glimmer of hope.”

Vivi clenched her hands, forcing herself to nod despite her anxiety.

Shu Mingyuan turned his gaze toward the northern region of Alabana—the royal city. The rebels were already assaulting from the east, south, and west gates, converging on the last royal stronghold.

Watching the endless slaughter below, Shu Mingyuan felt a strange emptiness in his mind. Royal army or rebels—regardless of whether they had been deceived by Crocodile, each was fighting for their own cause.

Such cases of treacherous ministers provoking rebellion were countless in history. He was no benevolent savior, merely acting as he pleased. More importantly, the thought in his heart made him eager to take action.

Suddenly, the crimson bird let out a piercing cry, its wings trembling as it flew toward the royal palace.

The two blood-red birds landed in the palace grounds, where guards immediately surrounded them.

“Who goes there? Raise your hands and don’t move!”

“Uncle Jacka!” Vivi leapt from the bird’s back, recognizing the chief of the palace guards.

“You are… Princess Vivi?” Jacka exclaimed in delight, then ordered the guards, “Put away your weapons! The princess has returned!”

“Where is Father?” Vivi asked anxiously.

“His Majesty is in the grand hall of the palace, discussing defense with Lieutenant Bell,” Jacka replied.

Vivi’s expression was fraught with worry. She then took out a carefully folded piece of paper and handed it to Jacka, saying solemnly, “Uncle Jacka, everything I wish to say is written here. Please, you must find Kosha and give him this. Once he reads it, he’ll understand. This war in Alabasta should not have erupted like this!”

“I’ll go in and find my father.” With that, Vivi grasped Shu Mingyuan’s hand and rushed toward the palace hall.

“Wait! Princess, who is this gentleman?” Jacka eyed the shirtless young man holding the princess’s hand. Their relationship was clearly unusual, but his duty was to safeguard the palace, especially in these dangerous times.

“He is a good man. Without his protection, I might have died long ago,” Vivi answered.

Together, they charged into the grand hall. Yet as the doors closed behind them, they sensed a strange tension in the air.

On the throne sat a crowned man, but beneath him stood several others. At their feet lay a man, battered and bleeding, sprawled in a pool of blood.

“Father!”

“Uncle Bell!”

Vivi’s eyes widened in terror. “What have you done to my father and Uncle Bell?” Clearly, she recognized the others—the senior agents of Baroque Works.

Fearful, she bit her lip and ran toward the king, desperate to warn him of Crocodile’s true nature, which he might not yet know.

“Vivi! Wait, that man... may not be your father,” Shu Mingyuan shouted, then walked ahead, eyes narrowed. “Isn’t that right, Bon Clay?”

A strange laugh rang out. Vivi watched as the ‘king’ on the throne touched his face, transforming instantly into another person—a bizarre figure with eyeshadow, lipstick, and a swan costume, unmistakably a flamboyant impostor, nothing like the king.

“You’re Mr. 2!” Vivi screamed.

“Cha-ha-ha-ha, my dear daughter, I am your father. Come to me!” Bon Clay cackled.

“Bastard! What have you done to my father?” Now she understood—the king’s baffling orders had been his doing. “It was you, wasn’t it? Pretending to be my father, deceiving everyone, deliberately inciting the rebel and royal armies. You are the greatest villain stirring up this war!”

“As expected of the princess, you grasped the truth so quickly. Your father, on the other hand, even when I captured him, was utterly clueless,” Bon Clay sneered.

He then turned to Shu Mingyuan. “You’re the little brat, the Ghost Hunter Monkey D. Shu Mingyuan, aren’t you? The boss says you’re strong, but today, if you meddle in our affairs, even a monster like you will die right here.”

“You’re nothing but a flock of chickens,” Shu Mingyuan replied with a faint laugh. “You know, the last person to talk to me like that has grass three meters tall over their grave.”

“Arrogant! The people before you are all senior agents of Baroque Works. Together, we’ve never lost. Today, even you will not escape!” Mr. 1 retorted.

Shu Mingyuan glanced at them indifferently, then turned to Vivi. “The king is clearly hidden somewhere. Leave these people to me. With your familiarity with the palace, if your father is here, you should be able to find him quickly.”

“But there are so many of them…” Vivi’s voice trembled as she looked at Shu Mingyuan’s calm demeanor. She remembered how, throughout their journey, he had never faltered before any foe. Gritting her teeth, she opened the hall doors and ran out.

“Lord Shu Mingyuan, I leave Uncle Bell’s safety to you!”

The boy stretched lazily, his eyes filled with contempt as he looked at the four adversaries, beckoning them with a finger. “Come on, trash. Didn’t you want to kill me? Here’s your chance. My head is worth thirty-five million now!”

“Brat, you’ll soon taste death!” Mr. 1 said, his voice sharp as a blade.

“Trash,” the youth mocked.

Mr. 1 was instantly enraged.

Shu Mingyuan’s gaze grew even more disdainful.

“I wasn’t talking about you.”

“I meant all of you here are trash.”

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