Chapter Thirty-Four: Colonel Monka

Naval Base.

Under the scorching sun, a group of sailors busied themselves with their tasks.

Before the naval administration building, on the vast and empty square, a massive, half-finished statue lay silently. The sailors’ current task was to move this unfinished statue onto the rooftop of the administration building.

Three months earlier, Monka had been struck by a sudden inspiration: he wanted a statue erected in front of the administration building as a testament to his greatness. He summoned the finest sculptor in town to craft this monument for him.

But three days ago, Monka realized that if the statue stood there, it would be obscured by the administration building and fail to showcase his grandeur. So, acting on a whim, he decided the statue should be set atop the building instead. In this way, the entire Shells Town would bear witness to his magnificence. Imagine, every morning upon waking, the townspeople would see this statue—surely their awe and reverence for him would only deepen.

Standing quietly by the window, Monka looked down at the busy sailors, a smile spreading across his face.

Yet the smile had barely settled when it froze. A streak of dark red light flashed by, and in an instant, the unfinished statue was cleaved in two. The intricately carved head crashed thunderously to the ground, shattering to pieces. The remaining half, losing its balance, toppled and smashed into several large fragments.

Stunned by the sudden turn of events, all the sailors’ faces changed. They knew all too well how important this statue was to Colonel Monka. Now that it lay in ruins, they could only imagine their fate.

“Hey! Get out there and catch whoever did this! I’ll have his head!” Monka, brandishing his axe, smashed the window in rage and glared outside the base. He didn’t know what that fleeting red light was, but he could tell someone was behind this act of sabotage.

“Yes, at once!”

All the sailors breathed a sigh of relief and hurried back into the building to arm themselves before rushing out of the base. But when they reached the gate, they were dumbfounded.

Those sailors who had gone out earlier that morning with Young Master Berumeber were now returning, escorting the pale-faced Berumeber as their prisoner. And at their head walked a young man they had never seen before, his expression cold and impassive.

“Sergeant, what’s going on here?” one of the sailors ventured to ask.

“Private, if you still have a sense of justice, don’t point your weapon at us,” the bearded sergeant explained. “This is Mr. Roland. He’s here to help us overthrow Monka’s tyranny.”

“Sense of justice? Overthrow Monka’s tyranny?” The sailors from inside the base exchanged bewildered glances. The sergeant, always known for his honest and upright nature, must be dreaming, they thought.

Monka had ruled here for so long—had anyone ever dared interfere? They weren’t privy to Roland’s display of strength. Had they witnessed how, from such a distance, he had sliced Monka’s statue in twain with a single stroke, they would not have doubted for a moment.

Roland raised a hand to stop the sergeant at his side, stepped forward, and glanced coolly at the assembled sailors. “If you intend to stand with Monka against me, I will show no mercy. I am also about to join the Navy. I will not tolerate such filth in its ranks. If you still remember what justice means, stand with me now—let’s detain Monka and bring him to Loguetown to be judged by the headquarters colonel.”

As he spoke, Roland revealed the cold gleam of his short saber.

“What are you all hesitating for? We saw it with our own eyes—Mr. Roland split that statue in half!” the sergeant roared. He didn’t know if Roland would really kill these sailors, but with the power he’d just displayed, wiping out an entire naval base single-handedly would be no trouble at all.

“We don’t trust this stranger,” the sailors said after exchanging glances, lowering their weapons, “but we trust you, Sergeant.”

“Bastards! You dare defy my orders?” The furious bellow erupted from behind the sailors—the voice belonged to Colonel Monka himself. Already seething with rage over the destruction of his statue, seeing this scene as he left the administration building sent his anger soaring.

With the massive battle axe fused seamlessly to his right arm, he swung it viciously at the nearest sailor. In Shells Town, no one was allowed to defy his orders, let alone rebel against his authority.

“You’re nothing but a hypnotized clown. Stop pretending to be important,” Roland said, flashing forward in an instant to block Monka’s attack with ease.

“Damn you…” No matter how much strength Monka poured into his axe, he could not force down Roland’s blade, marked with dark red patterns. The humiliation burned—finally, someone had dared challenge him, yet he found himself outmatched. And as he raged, the sailors who had always obeyed his every word now stood by, watching the spectacle.

“If I weren’t about to join headquarters, I’d have already cut you down,” Roland said, and with a slight exertion, shattered Monka’s axe into fragments.

“Die!” Axe destroyed, Monka seemed to regain some sanity. He leapt back, drew his pistol, and fired at Roland without hesitation.

Bang!

“In the face of absolute strength, all schemes are futile,” Roland said, shaking his head as he sliced the bullet from the air, then appeared before Monka in a flash. With the back of his blade, he smashed Monka’s iron jaw to pieces.

Monka was utterly defeated. Blood pooled on the ground. The once arrogant and high-spirited colonel could now only clutch his jaw, unable even to cry out in pain.

On the other side, the sailors watching this scene had their mouths agape, eyes nearly popping from their sockets. Moments ago, they’d doubted Roland’s strength, but in the blink of an eye, Monka lay defeated on the ground.

Roland’s movements hadn’t been fast, aside from the instant he’d appeared by Monka’s side. The rest—the step-by-step dismantling of Monka’s defenses—they’d seen clearly.

With one stroke, he shattered Monka’s prized iron axe.

With another, he broke his iron jaw, robbing him of the will to fight.

Their Colonel Monka, the dictator who had ruled Shells Town for years, was finished—just like that?

The sailors could hardly believe it. Only when Berumeber let out a wretched scream did they finally come to their senses.

“We won!” The sailors who had doubted Roland rushed to the sergeant, shouting in excitement.

“Yes, we won.” The sergeant’s heart was pounding as well. Perhaps because of his age, he didn’t shout like the others.

But after a moment, he couldn’t contain himself. Tossing his cap aside, he leapt into the air.

“Damn it, the Monka era is finally over—”