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In the moment Soren had flung his fist forward, Bertram's upper body contorted as if made of a thin, fabricated cloth. It distorted itself like a ripple, fluttering quickly out of the way while Bertram's lower body remained entirely still and in place against the floor.

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This led the coal to instead fire straight forward and into the metal wall ahead, leaving Bertram largely unhindered. The man twisted his upper body around, while his feet remained facing forward. It was a phenomenon not unlike the Rokushiki technique "Kami-e", yet on a different scale, being the result of a Devil Fruit.

He contorted his body again, snapping his lower body into place to align with his torso. At the very same time, he flung himself forward, his body incredibly flexible yet hardening at once with the application of Busoshoku Haki. He sought to slap his upper body against Soren, a sensation not unlike being slapped by a towel, yet many, many times harder. With no time to react, Soren barely managed to make use of Busoshoku Koka to defend against the attack.

That being said, the attack was still plenty strong, and despite his black, hardened skin, it penetrated through him and caused him to fly into the opposing metal wall.

He panted, and beads of sweat dropped down his face. His stamina was depleting, but any offensive tactic he could make seemed to be completely irrelevant here. As opposed to expand his own body, he instead created coal separate from himself. Unlike before, he molded the coal around his fists, and then subsequently turn them into a lustrous black by applying his own Busoshoku Haki over it. Close combat seemed to be the only possible option here. A single, deadly strike when an opening was revealed How lovely. Bertram had his opponent up against a wall, literally.

And better yet, he appeared exhausted. As if ready to bite the dust sooner than expected. Bertram grinned under his handkerchief at the sight of Soren readying his hands for combat. He puffed out his chest, as if to show Soren something. I want ya to see this with yar own eyes. Trickles of sweat, whole beads of it had been spilled from Soren onto Bertram's chest.

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And, in a matter of seconds, they seeped into his flesh, dissolving entirely. I can absorb the moisture from yar body into mine. The more we fight, the more ya get tired. The more we fight, the more I stay just the same.


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Soren was pissed beyond belief, but even more than that, he felt helpless. What he was about to do would be his last move. Whether he survived or not Soren did not care.

The black dust spiraled continuously and became like a typhoon. Soon, his entire body had turned into the shape of a spiraling dragon, sparks igniting through his body. He pushed forward with incredible force, the sparks becoming more and more frequent.

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There may have been no escape for himself, but there was no escape for his opponent either. A large, resounding blast erupted inside of the basement cellar. Bertram was sent flying toward one end while Soren was sent flying toward the other, out cold. What had happened to Bertram had yet to be seen. A large smog of ash and dust surrounded the room. Bertram's large frame slamming into the steel wall with such incredible force had left a small dent in it, an impressive feat that only spoke volumes of the stellar attack.

However, while it had been enough to push him back, the attack in itself hardly damaged Bertram, with regard to his Busoshoku Haki protecting him from any major damage. Even so, Bertram was slow to get back up onto his feet. And when he did, he felt some soreness in his chest --nothing that couldn't be fixed with a little shower.

One step at a time, Bertram made his way over to Soren. The boy may have been rendered unconscious, but at the current moment, there was still some life in him. He was not entirely fatigued, and so he wasn't in a state Bertram was yet content with. The Xros Pirates didn't bother to kill their enemies in a private setting such as this. In a cellar in the deep of the basement… here there was no one present to acknowledge their might. Here there was no one to witness their superiority, to fear their greatness!

That was why the Xros Pirates were firm believers in public executions. There wasn't anything they cared for more than to show off their strength, to show off just how better they were than everyone else. They were the most feared crew on the seas and they were going to stop at nothing to show that! Bertram was the single best member of the Xros Pirates when it came to stabilizing his prey's physical condition. Most members fought defensively so as not to accidentally kill their opponents, but Bertram on the other hand had a very sound degree of control over how close his enemies were to dying.

And he had nothing else to thank than the powers of his Devil Fruit. Lifting Soren up effortlessly with a single hand, he fitted one hand around the lad's wrists and another around his ankles, hauling him high overhead. As an awakened Paramecia, Bertram had the ability to expend his powers over matters separate from his own likeness.

In other words, at his command, Bertram could make various objects --including other forms of life-- take upon the properties of a towel. And that was exactly what he did with Soren. He turned and churned the lad's body while it was within his grasp, Soren's flesh and limbs spiraling into a helix. Like a waterfall, sweat poured out from Soren's body, spilling on the metal floor. In the same manner he absorbed sweat, Bertram could also expel it. Forcibly relieving Soren of whatever energy he had left inside of his body rendered him completely fatigued, to such an extent that --while still breathing-- it became increasingly difficult to so much as open his mouth.

It was a phenomenon not unlike being paralyzed, yet with all his bodily functions still intact. That way, his internal organs could still be meshed with on the day of the execution. Tossing the smaller man over his massive shoulder, Bertram carried along with the rest of his day.

Was it luck? Or perhaps it was the doing of another. Whatever the reason, they had been lucky. Fortunate even, to not have encountered more than a few Sea Kings following their departure from Ishitani.

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Since leaving, Draco D. Damon had fallen into a deep slumber. As was to be expected, of course. The lad had only partaken in a battle against Mengis , a mink of such incredible fortitude that the Navy as a whole had refused to let retire his services, no matter how many times the bloody fool had gone against their morales.

As a result of his last encounter with Asura, the tiger mink had been demoted… again. This wasn't the first time such a thing had occurred, and it most certainly wouldn't be the last, either. The 44 year old had been a Marine now for well over 20 years; the fact that he was a Captain in rank at current only went to show for how little he cared for honorary positions. Ten years, ten years ago he had held the rank of Vice Admiral, and ever since then everything had gone downhill.

He had seen all the ranks a Marine could ever possibly see, except of course those above that which he had reached, and seen them more times than any other Marine should see fit. He had managed to become a Vice Admiral no less than twice; a Rear Admiral no less than ten; a Commodore fifteen times; a Captain now for the twentieth. And should he be demoted any further, then he would see it be his twenty-sixth time that he had been demoted to the rank of Commander.

Demotions were nothing new to him. At this point, he was so used to it.

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At this point he had forgotten what rank he even was; hell, by all means, if things carried along as they did, he was just as good as any other Ensign! In light of his opportunistic thinking, Apu had the luxury of an entire household at his disposal in his taking care of Damon. The house he had ripped from Ishitani's foundation was one of three complete stories; he had lain Damon to rest up in the master bedroom on the third floor, while he worked the kitchen on the first.

And my was he a sight to see. The Titan Pirates' Fifth Division was in charge of the Yonko crew's meals; they were a division comprised of the very finest chefs and cooks the crew had to offer. Apu was of no exception.