Chapter 17: The Terrifying Devil Fruit Ability

"Is it coming...?"

The White Fox suddenly seemed to sense something, murmuring in a voice only the two of them could hear.

Who is coming?

Siano grew increasingly impatient; this fellow was acting so mysteriously—were they going to fight or not?

He deigned to speak to me yet refused to make himself clear, just standing there like a wooden pole, making people guess endlessly.

In all his life, he had hated riddle-speakers the most.

Never mind.

If action is possible, there is no need for chatter; if you won't give an answer, then I will take it myself! With this thought, he made his decision instantly, flicked his wrist, and the bamboo sword suddenly thrust forward.

By the time the White Fox dazedly realized what was happening and turned his face to look, the bamboo sword had already precisely knocked his mask flying.

Clatter—

The White Fox's mask fell to the ground, revealing through the large screen hanging above a withered face, roughly in its early fifties, brimming with exhaustion and the marks of hardship, displayed before everyone.

For a moment, the entire venue fell deathly silent, so quiet that the sound of the mask rolling on the floor was clearly audible.

Siano sensed the strange atmosphere in the arena; staring at this face, he frowned. Is this person very famous?

The next instant.

Like a massive stone thrown into a calm lake, the entire venue erupted in an uproar! Almost every spectator couldn't help but stand up.

"Hey! No way! If I'm not seeing things, that, that face is..."

"Director Sakuraba!"

"He's actually still alive?!"

What exactly is going on!

That renowned Mr. Sakuraba—wasn't he supposed to have died five years ago in a shipwreck during a storm?!

"Father!!!"

The locker room curtain was suddenly thrown open, and Junichi burst out, running wildly as if mad.

Reaching the front, his whole body trembled; staring wide-eyed at this emaciated man, fearing everything before him was merely an illusion, he cried, "It really is you, is it really you..."

"It is me, Junichi."

The emaciated man extended his slightly trembling hand, stroking Junichi's head, as if he had a thousand words he wished to say.

But in the end, his eyes merely reddened, two lines of tears streaming down, as he murmured to himself: "Junichi, my Junichi..."

"Father!!!" Junichi could hold back no longer; he burrowed into the man's embrace, tightly clutching that somewhat bony, withered chest, and burst into loud wails.

"Boohoo, what's going on, I'm going to cry too..." The announcer standing at the edge of the ring also began to sob, taking off his glasses to wipe away tears, a sight that made Siano, standing nearby, glance over in surprise.

He silently stepped back a few paces, leaving the center of the stage to this father and son.

"... Junichi, move aside first, be obedient; the time I can struggle free from control and maintain clarity is not much. Let me finish saying the important things first."

The emaciated man patted his son's head; Junichi wiped his tears, nodded vigorously, and released his arms. However reluctant he was, he knew matters had their priorities.

The emaciated man turned around, facing the audience seats directly.

"Everyone, long time no see—or rather, it has been a long time since I met everyone as Sakuraba."

Speaking in a low voice with a somewhat hoarse throat, he said, "I believe what everyone most wants to know is what exactly happened in that shipwreck five years ago, and why I am still alive?"

In the audience, the vast majority of people subconsciously nodded.

"That was not a shipwreck, but a carefully plotted trap."

Recalling that nightmare, Sakuraba's eyes revealed pain. "A devil called 'Carpenter,' or rather, a person who obtained devil power, targeted this body of mine which still possessed some strength. Thus, he devised a scheme to lure me outside the island, knocked me unconscious, and then, taking advantage of my coma, used his ability to control me."

Carpenter?

Most of the outsiders present looked bewildered, but many local residents were startled; they were far too familiar with this name.

This "Carpenter" was a boss of an underground force that began rising about five years ago.

Professional beggars, casino enforcers, loan sharks, and even several brothels on the island—he was involved in all these shady industries, truly notorious.

Ordinary citizens who encountered him would mostly avoid him, knowing they could not afford to provoke him.

But openly speaking, his status was still far removed from the true big shots on the island.

And Sakuraba was undoubtedly one of those big shots.

A rat from an underground sewer actually dared to make a move against such a figure?

Where did he get the audacity and the capability!

Could it be that he relied solely on that so-called devil power Mr. Sakuraba mentioned?

"President Sakuraba! Do you mean that fellow Carpenter is actually a Devil Fruit user?"

Among the audience, there were ultimately some knowledgeable individuals who immediately grasped the meaning and couldn't help but shout out the question loudly.

"Correct!" Sakuraba nodded bitterly. "To be precise, he is a Paramecia Puppet-Puppet Fruit user, capable of..."

"... capable of turning humans into puppet marionettes under my complete control!"

Boom! The dojo gate was suddenly kicked open violently from the outside; accompanied by an unrestrained, arrogant voice, a middle-aged man draped in a luxurious trench coat, cigar in mouth and face gloomy, appeared at the entrance.

It was precisely the "Carpenter," notorious in the eyes of the local residents.

And behind him, two more figures followed.

The spectators looked closely and were surprised to discover that those two men, appearing like henchmen, were respectively the Town Sheriff and Major Tomoto, the highest commander of the 129th Navy Branch Base on the north side of the island!

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, truly unexpected, Sakuraba. It seems I underestimated your willpower and spirit of resistance."

"Carpenter" fixed a chilling gaze on the emaciated man on the ring, speaking in a cold voice:

"Other puppets only need to be brainwashed once and can be left alone with peace of mind. Only you, as a special case, show signs of struggling and losing control every so often. I re-brainwashed you just last month; what stimulated you this time? Let me guess... could it be this brat?"

His gaze shifted to Junichi; standing to his right rear, Navy Branch Major Tomoto expressionlessly raised his flintlock pistol, aiming it at Junichi.

"Major Tomoto, what are you doing! Why are you obeying the orders of a gang leader, and furthermore pointing your gun at a child?!"

Unbelievable roars erupted from the spectator stands.

—It happened that Marines from the 129th Branch, taking advantage of their leave to watch the matches in the city, witnessed this scene and simply could not believe their eyes.

Was this still the kind, amiable, upright, and benevolent Major they knew?

"Didn't I say it already? That is the power of the Puppet-Puppet Fruit, a Paramecia type."

Sakuraba Itsuki let out a bitter laugh. "Your Major, and that Sheriff, are just like me; they were secretly controlled by him long ago. In daily life, they appear no different from ordinary people, but the moment the Carpenter wills it, they immediately become puppets who obey his every command."

"Furthermore, controlling each puppet requires one finger; since the Carpenter has ten fingers, naturally he would not waste a single one."

He turned his gaze toward the seven Dojo Masters to the south, his voice growing increasingly hoarse. "Therefore, my old friends here have, without exception, fallen victim to his poison one after another."

The spectator stands erupted in an uproar once more.

The seven Dojo Masters remained seated in place with cold expressions, showing no intention of refuting him, which precisely confirmed Sakuraba Itsuki's claims.

The surrounding audience, as if seeing a plague, panicked instantly; they scrambled to their feet, tumbling and crawling while shoving one another as they retreated toward the perimeter.

Among those inside were also family members or close subordinates of these Dojo Masters.

They suddenly recalled the strange changes their own Masters had gradually exhibited over the past five years, and only in this moment did they finally understand the cause; gazing at that row of familiar yet strange backs, they could not help but feel a chill of terror run through them.

(End of Chapter)