I'm Not Interested in Devil Fruits

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"What is he planning to do..."

"Could it be..."

Not just the pirates and bounty hunters, but even the weary and battle-worn Marines looked up at the dense array of jagged spikes and blades suspended above them, a wave of dread washing over them.

"I can't say it was a pleasure meeting you."

Liam, using Geppo, soared high into the air as a storm of metal blades rained down like a steel curtain.

His casual voice drifted down from the shadowy figure silhouetted against the light. "So here's a little parting gift for our meeting— please accept it. Heh heh heh..."

"You bastard!"

As the chilling laughter echoed, Smoker roared, and black iron cages erupted from his body one after another.

Almost simultaneously, he felt the impact of metal striking metal across his form. Unfamiliar with the Cage-Cage Fruit's full potential, he had attempted to extend the cages to shield his subordinates, but he hesitated, fearing his power might ensnare them instead. 

Soon, the air was filled with the anguished cries of those around him, and Smoker's eyes burned with rage.

"He's a madman..."

Hina murmured, watching as the deadly rain of blades passed harmlessly through her smoky form, embedding themselves into the ground below.

She surveyed the battlefield— pirates, bounty hunters, Marines...

All she saw were bodies punctured by the storm of blades with crimson blood pooling beneath them. Some had lost limbs, others ears, and many were pinned to the ground by their own weapons...

Yet amidst this gruesome spectacle, the Kuja warriors stood untouched.

Not a single blade had grazed them. They remained motionless, trusting Giorno completely, ensuring they did not interfere with his work.

The rain of blades ceased as abruptly as it had begun.

Countless weapons jutted from the ground like a metallic graveyard, the air thick with the scent of blood. A heavy silence fell, punctuated only by pained groans, sobs, and agonized screams.

Hancock, resting a hand on her slender waist, surveyed the aftermath.

The arena was filled with the wounded— their faces twisted in agony, bodies soaked in blood, some missing limbs, others skewered by blades. Yet, in truth, Giorno had only maimed them.

The few who had perished were those who had tried to flee or resist in the chaos. Liam had not aimed to kill them, but the unpredictable movements of desperate men had sealed their fate. He was no god— he could not alter the trajectory of every falling blade.

Naturally, Liam wasn't concerned about that.

He merely disliked unnecessary killing. That was all.

"This bastard..."

Smoker dispelled the cages around his body and, alongside Hina, surveyed the devastation. He felt no pity for the pirates, but seeing his own Marines in the same condition filled him with fury.

Then, a furious roar shattered the tense silence.

Liam turned to see the other Vice Admiral— the one who had fought Robin earlier. Now, with multiple blades embedded in his flesh, his uniform stained red, and a bull-horned metal mask obscuring his face, he bellowed Liam's name, "Chopper-na Giorno—"

Before he could finish, an unseen force wrenched the mask from his face, lifting him into the air toward Giorno.

'Whoosh—' Vice Admiral Bastille was pulled skyward as Liam seized his bull-horned mask.

"You called for me?" Liam asked with a smirk.

Bastille wasted no words. He yanked a blade from his own shoulder, coated it with Busoshoku Haki (Armament Haki), and slashed at Liam, who hovered before him!

Splat!

Blood splattered through the air and fingers spun away.

Bastille's fist, now missing several fingers, landed weakly against Liam's chest. His gaze darted sideways— to the blade that had slipped from his grasp, its Haki dissipating. Instead of falling, it hovered in midair, circling around Liam like a playful pet eager to please its master.

Liam chuckled. "Trying to cut me down with a blade? How bold."

Behind his battered mask, Bastille's eyes burned with determination.

Liam flicked his fingers.

Splat! Splat! Splat!

Several blades pierced Bastille's body, emerging from his back, dripping crimson as they hovered in the air before floating behind Liam. They joined the first blade, their tips aimed menacingly at Bastille, still trapped in Liam's grip.

The mask in Liam's hand groaned under pressure.

Whether from his tightening grip or the Magnet-Magnet Fruit's force crushing inward, the pain of his skull being compressed was excruciating. Blood trickled beneath Bastille's mask as he let out a low, pained growl.

'This won't work... Carrying metal puts me at a huge disadvantage against him... Even without a Devil Fruit, this Giorno's raw strength surpasses mine…' Bastille's vision blurred, but then he heard a desperate cry from below: "Let him go!"

Hina.

"No..." Bastille forced out, his head splitting with pain.

Liam glanced down to see the beautiful Marine officer soaring toward him, her form wreathed in smoke, her expression fierce.

"Fine, I'll let him go."

Casually, Liam released Bastille's half-broken mask and hurled him downward.

The bloodied Vice Admiral plummeted toward Hina, who gasped and thickened her smoke to soften his fall. She ignored Giorno entirely, her focus locked on catching Bastille. As their paths crossed, a black metal pillar shot up from the ground.

The Cage-Cage Fruit!

Hina recognized it instantly. Smoker, standing below, raised his hands, summoning towering black iron pillars from his palms to ensnare the man in the sky.

Liam glanced toward the battlefield. Among the groaning survivors, Robin remained unharmed. She now retrieved a small green Den Den Mushi from her bag, coaxing out Liam's iron staff from its mouth.

She looked up and exchanged a knowing smile with him. The staff, freed from the Den Den Mushi, shot toward the sky like a bullet.

"Staff, come!"

The iron staff streaked through the air. Liam reached out, caught it with a sharp 'snap', and swung it at the rising black pillars.

The iron staff, now coated in Busoshoku Haki, turned jet-black and gleamed ominously. It struck the Cage-Cage Fruit's pillars with a resounding blow, sending shockwaves through the battlefield. Below, Smoker reeled as if struck by lightning, with agony coursing through his arms.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Each clash reverberated through the air. Smoker gritted his teeth as his feet sank deeper into the ground, his body pummeled by invisible force. With every strike, his arms throbbed in pain, his bones fracturing under the impact. By the final blow, only his head and arms, limp and shattered, remained above the surface.

And the black iron pillars?

Crack—

Fissures raced down from their shattered peaks to Smoker's trembling hands, before they finally crumbled with an earsplitting crash.

(End of the Chapter)