[Congratulations, Host. You have defeated "Diamond Jozu." The interpretation level of Yujiro Hanma has increased by 1%.]
[The current character interpretation level is 41%.]
[All personal attributes have increased by 1%.]
He had ripped off Jozu's arm in an instant.
The system suddenly rang in his mind.
But he felt nothing.
He was no longer interested in fighting someone who had already been defeated. Jozu had given everything he had… and still, it hadn't been enough.
As if nothing had happened, he turned around with absolute indifference and began walking back into the palace, leaving behind a kneeling Jozu, covered in blood, unable to even hold himself upright with dignity.
Jozu looked up. His severed arm was still bleeding, his body trembled, and his breathing was uneven.
He wanted to scream, but his will was broken. In his eyes—still filled with rage—there was already a genuine fear hiding. That man walking away so calmly… could kill him at any moment. And the only reason he hadn't, was because it wasn't even worth it.
Gritting his teeth, Jozu held back a cry of frustration, and with his pride in pieces, gathered what remained of his squad, picked up Namur's lifeless body, and left Fish-Man Island without looking back.
…
Inside the main hall, the silence was absolute.
Neptune, his three sons, and the two ministers hadn't moved a single inch. Only when they saw Tiberion reappear were they finally able to exhale the breath they had been holding for minutes.
They were drenched in sweat.
And even so, Tiberion didn't spare them a single glance. He didn't say a word. He simply walked through the hall as if they were invisible.
When he disappeared down one of the side corridors, they all let out a sigh.
"Father…" Fukaboshi murmured, "What are we going to do now?"
"The human sent Jozu flying hundreds of meters with a single blow!" added Ryuboshi, still trembling. "He even tore off his arm! And the worst part is that Jozu… didn't even try to fight back."
"Doesn't that mean that Shirahoshi… is really going to end up marrying Tiberion?" asked Manboshi, still unable to believe it.
Neptune closed his eyes and clenched his fists.
"Ah… who would've imagined that this man possessed such overwhelming power?" he said with resignation. "He even dared to kill a commander of the Whitebeard Pirates! He acted like he didn't have a shred of respect for Whitebeard!"
The right minister cautiously spoke up.
"Your Majesty, don't worry. From what I understand, the Whitebeard crew is known for their emotional loyalty. Their captain treats his subordinates as if they were his own sons… and he rarely lets offenses like this slide."
"Yes," added the left minister, "Even though losing an arm might not warrant direct revenge… the murder of Namur is something else. In my opinion, Whitebeard will definitely come seeking vengeance."
Neptune slowly nodded.
"I hope so. Because if Whitebeard does nothing… no one else will be able to stop him."
There was a brief silence before he added:
"If the Whitebeard Pirates manage to subdue Tiberion Hanma… I will personally reward them with a large sum of money."
His words were clear. This was no longer about politics or diplomacy. It was personal.
Because in his heart, his daughter was the most precious thing he had.
…
In the days that followed…
The name Tiberion Hanma wasn't just whispered inside the Palace—it echoed across the entire island.
Everyone was talking about him.
And while many spoke with respect… others spoke with fear. And some, even, with fascination.
"Jejeje… He killed one of Whitebeard's commanders! And not just anyone… but Namur, the captain of the Eighth Division!"
"And that's not all. He tore off Jozu the Diamond's arm and sent him flying half a kilometer. That human isn't just crazy… he's cursed!"
"And that's exactly why this won't end well. No matter how strong this Tiberion is… he killed one of Whitebeard's 'sons.' Do you really think the Old Man is going to stand by and do nothing?"
"Exactly. Even if he crushed Jozu, how's he going to face the entire Whitebeard fleet on his own? They say there are nearly a thousand men, not counting their allies… and more than thirty massive ships in the main fleet."
"And that's without even mentioning Whitebeard himself! The Emperor who can destroy islands with a single blow. One of the men closest to the Pirate King!"
"And watch out, because among his subordinates are captains even more deadly than Jozu. Phoenix Marco, Ace the Fire Fist…"
…
Inside the Mermaid Café, the air was heated with the same conversations echoing across the island.
There were those who described him as a hero. Others, as a heartless demon who would soon bring a war no one could contain. But all of them—absolutely all—spoke his name with fear and admiration.
Shyarly, from her room, listened involuntarily yet attentively. Every word reached her ears whether she wanted it to or not.
Sitting on her cushion, she couldn't help but feel like those voices were surrounding her, forcing her to relive everything.
Her expression was cold. But her eyes were filled with contradiction.
She didn't understand what was happening to her.
That man had forced her. He had subdued her. He had broken her in a way she never thought anyone could.
Her body still remembered what her soul was trying to bury. And yet… she couldn't completely hate him.
Was it madness? Was it weakness, or was it part of the trauma…?
She, who had always been so strong, so in control, so rational… now found herself trapped in an emotional spiral that silently wore her down.
She should hate him. She should wish he were dead, that he vanished from this world.
But then… she heard him face Jozu.
She saw him endure the impossible.
And without meaning to… she worried about him.
"Ah…" she sighed, folding her arms over her large breasts, feeling her heart tighten, "That man… acts without thinking about the consequences."
She wanted to believe it was just compassion. That her concern was nothing more than what she'd feel for any other living being. But no… that wasn't it.
In her mind, Tiberion was not just anyone.
And in the middle of that tangled mess of emotions, a few employees burst in.
"Madam, something's wrong! That human… he's back again!"
!
Shyarly froze.
It was as if the temperature in the room dropped several degrees in an instant. Her body tensed, her back straightened reflexively, and her pupils shrank with a fear she hadn't felt since that day.
"What…?" she whispered, barely audible.
Again? Him, again?!
She stood up slowly, eyes fixed on the door, as if expecting to see him walk in at any moment.
Her chest began to ache.
Not from the physical memory… but from what had been awakened inside her. That toxic mix of resentment, rage, humiliation… and something else. Something she didn't dare name.
'What am I supposed to do now?' she thought, clenching her fangs.
Should she escape through the window? Hide again?
But this was her place. Her world.
Why should she run?
HE RAPED ME!
I haven't even had the chance to make him pay for what he did to me!
A tremor of fury surged through her fingers.
I have to make him pay!
She inhaled deeply, and with a firm voice, ordered:
"Quickly! Everyone out. And listen to me carefully… no one is allowed in without my permission."
"Y-Yes, boss!" they answered in unison.
The employees, though nervous, obeyed immediately. They knew Madam Shyarly was no ordinary woman. She had always commanded respect. And whatever had happened a few days ago—even if they hadn't been told the details—was enough for them to understand that something unforgivable had occurred.
And even so… none of them spoke.
Shyarly had trusted them, protected them like a fair leader, and because of that, despite the gravity of what they suspected, they chose to swallow their words and stay silent.
One by one, they exited the back room, leaving the shark mermaid alone in her own hell.
The door at the rear closed behind the last of their steps.
And a second later, Tiberion appeared, calmly crossing the freshly repaired entrance as if it were the doorway to his own home.
Shyarly sat on a cushion, her body rigidly upright, as if ready to confront him… but her fingers twitched faintly over her knees, betraying the tension consuming her from within.
"..."
Tiberion looked at her in silence for a few seconds, a half-smile on his face. Then he spoke in a soft voice.
"Well then…? Did you give it more thought?"
Shyarly lifted her gaze, and though her eyes shone with pride, there was a tension behind them.
"Do you really expect me to say I thought it over?" she scoffed with sarcasm, though her voice carried a slight tremble she tried to hide, "Let me make one thing very clear… I'm not going to forgive you that easily for what you did to me."
She tried to sound firm. But inside, her heart was pounding like it was trying to escape through her throat. She was afraid. But she hated him even more for making her feel that way.
And worse… for the fact that she couldn't stop thinking about him.
The air around her shifted whenever Tiberion was near. Her body reacted on its own, as if something in his scent, his presence, or his voice dragged her thoughts to a place she didn't know how to escape from.
'Did he come back to do it again? Again… without asking anything…?'
Tiberion tilted his head slightly. And he replied without a hint of remorse:
"I understand perfectly."
And his tone shifted to something far more arrogant. His voice grew harsher, as if he were speaking to the entire world from a mountaintop.
"But that's just who I am, Shyarly. Tiberion Hanma doesn't beat around the bush. When I want a woman, I don't ask. I take. And if someone has a problem with that… they can try to stop me."
His gaze locked onto hers—cold, firm, imposing.
"You want to stop me from doing what I want? Then you'll have to be stronger than me. Defeat me. If you can't… then you have no choice but to accept the obvious: you're mine."
His words were brutal.
And yet, something twisted violently in Shyarly's chest. Rage? Wounded pride? Attraction? She didn't know.
She only knew that her whole body was reacting, as if her soul was being dragged toward a cliff's edge.
"W-What are you going to do…?" she asked suddenly, her voice trembling unexpectedly as she saw Tiberion begin to take off his shirt, revealing a physique carved like a living statue.
The coarse texture of his skin, the shape of his shoulders—everything about him radiated power and a dominant desire he made no effort to hide.
"I already told you," he said casually, lowering his pants without looking away, "You're MY woman. And now, that means something. You have a responsibility. So start getting ready… because I'm going to come every day."
But those words, instead of calming her, only aroused her.
How dared he? How could he speak with such certainty, as if everything had already been decided?
"You…!" she shouted, her voice breaking between rage and despair, "If you do this, I'll never forgive you! Even if I fall in love with you and can't help it… I'll never admit it! I'll keep pretending I hate you, even if it hurts…!"
The words burst out unfiltered, like lightning from her heart.
And the moment she said them… she froze.
Her lips trembled. Her eyes widened in horror and she covered her mouth.
What… what the hell had she just said?
How could she even suggest… that she was falling in love with him?
How could her heart beat with such contradiction…?
…
The next day.
The atmosphere in the Mermaid Café was quiet. Everything was calm… except inside Shyarly's chest.
From the bed, she watched Tiberion prepare to leave.
His imposing figure, with his back to her, seemed untouched by doubt, as if the world could never weigh on him. A man without fear, without guilt… without permission.
Shyarly watched him. And inside her, a storm raged.
She loved him and she hated him.
She hated him so much she wanted to tear him apart with her own hands.
She loved him so much… she couldn't bear the thought of watching him die.
Every muscle in her body screamed that she shouldn't care about him. That he didn't deserve her compassion. That he had no right. And yet… her heart pounded desperately as she watched him walk toward the door.
Finally, unable to hold it in any longer, she broke the silence.
"Wait…!" she cried out, rising from the bed naked, her voice shaking, "Can't you leave Fish-Man Island… right now?"
!
Tiberion stopped.
He slowly turned his face, wearing an expression so calm it seemed like he didn't take anything seriously. But his eyes landed on her with a crushing weight.
"Oh?" he said with a mocking smile, "Are you worried about my safety?"
Shyarly pressed her lips together, furious at the way he said it. But even so, she didn't back down.
"Me… worry about you?" she scoffed. "Not in your dreams! I hope Whitebeard splits you in half…!"
There was a pause. Then, she lowered her gaze slightly and muttered in a softer voice, full of honesty:
"But… I'd rather be the one to kill you with my own hands… than let them do it just because they're stronger."
"If you really… if you truly want to give me a chance," she continued, "then you should leave this island. Right now."
Tiberion smiled—not mockingly this time, but with a natural arrogance.
"Heh. Then I refuse."
An invisible pressure filled the air. An aura surrounded him, as if a sleeping beast had awakened inside his body.
His energy swelled—so much it felt almost physical.
Shyarly, who stood more than two meters taller than him, suddenly felt reduced to an insect…
That confirmed it. She already knew Tiberion was incredibly strong. She'd seen it with her own eyes.
She'd felt it on her, inside her. And still… she couldn't help but worry. Because the name Whitebeard wasn't something to ignore.
"W-Why…?" she whispered. "Why do you have to do this? Why challenge those people…? Why can't you just… stop?"
Tiberion looked at her, and his eyes softened slightly, though his voice remained firm.
"Why?" he repeated. "Because someone who still hasn't been satisfied… can't let go of what's already in the palm of his hand."
?
Shyarly froze.
"Not satisfied…?"
The phrase echoed in her mind.
And when she understood what he meant, her face flushed with shame. Her cheeks turned red, her lips parted without saying a word… and finally, she forced herself to speak, stammering awkwardly.
"You… if you leave now, I… I might go with you. But don't think that changes anything. I'll still want to kill you with my own hands."
She said it with all the venom she could muster. But the moment she did… she felt empty.
Who was she fooling? If she was already thinking about following him, would she really have the strength to kill him?
Such an obvious contradiction… how could he not see it?
She lowered her gaze, overwhelmed by a wave of shame. She felt like she was selling herself. Like she had given up so much… and yet, didn't truly have him.
Tiberion looked at her with an intense expression, as if he could see past her skin, into her soul.
"Shyarly…" he said in a deep voice. "Even if you say that… I still feel like it's not enough."
Shyarly felt a sharp sting in her chest.
Not enough…
Those words, coming from him, felt like a sentence.
She immediately thought of Shirahoshi.
Was he talking about her? Her innocence? Her beauty?
Was he thinking of abandoning her—a mature, beautiful woman—for that princess who still lived in a fantasy world?
Her face flushed with humiliation and rage.
"Hmph…" she spat, voice breaking, "Then forget I said anything. Go! Go find your little princess! But if you end up dead because of Whitebeard… don't come crying to me."
And without waiting for a reply, she turned around and threw herself onto the bed, pulling the sheet over her head, wanting to disappear from the world.
Her chest ached. Her heart beat with an unbearable emptiness.
She felt like she had him… and yet like she didn't.
And in that moment, as silence filled the room once more…
Shyarly realized she was exhausted.
Tired of fighting what she felt, tired of resisting a desire slipping out of her control, tired—above all—of yearning with every fiber of her being for a man who might never truly belong to anyone.
________
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