SPOP Chapter 78 Played for a Fool

You can read ahead up to 15 chapters on my Patreon, and I've also activated a (date-to-date) subscription model on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/darkshadow6395

What Kind of Man Is Dragon?

He is the son of Marine Vice Admiral Garp, the Hero of the Marines— Dragon had displayed exceptional talent and astonishing strength from the moment he joined the Marines. He was groomed as a future high-ranking officer, someone destined for greatness.

No matter how much Moya wished to deny it, he had to admit one thing— Dragon was far stronger than him.

But could someone like Dragon really be defeated by the kid standing before him?

Impossible.

That refined swordplay the boy had shown? It was barely enough to suppress Moya— who was already gravely injured.

And Dragon?

That was just wishful thinking.

By now, the kid was visibly struggling against him. His breathing was heavy, his movements slowing.

"At best, his strength is on par with a ranking Marine officer. There's no way he can take on Dragon!"

Which left only one possibility.

The boy was still holding back.

"You're hiding your strength? Then show me! Let me see it!" Moya roared, his twin blades slashing down once more.

Drip. Drip.

Bright red blood splattered as Rojen took a step back, narrowly avoiding the strike.

His expression hardened.

A fresh wound marked his cheek, blood trickling from the cut.

He had been injured. That last attack had missed his neck by mere inches and in that instant, Rojen truly grasped the might of a Vice Admiral.

When he fought Dragon, he had relied on the system's power— an exaggerated, borrowed strength, to be precise, the power of Uchiha Itachi. But this?

This was different.

This opponent, though weaker than Dragon, was someone he had to face with his own strength alone.

And clearly…

He was still far from matching a Vice Admiral.

"I'm almost at my limit."

Moya approached slowly with his twin blades in hand.

Step by step.

Unhurried.

Yet each step carried immense pressure.

Even wounded, a tiger was still a tiger.

Compared to Moya, Rojen was just a wolf— tenacious, perhaps, but one wrong move, and he'd be torn apart in an instant.

He had lasted this long, but his body was reaching its breaking point.

"Should I just summon someone?"

The thought crossed his mind but he shook his head.

"No. That power is reserved for an Admiral."

Five hundred million belly— whether split in half or used all at once— wasn't worth wasting here.

And Kizaru?

How strong was he, truly?

Judging from the anime alone, it was impossible to say. The real world and the animated version of it were different, and at this moment, Rojen couldn't accurately gauge the Admiral's full strength.

Which meant—

His gaze shifted toward the heart of Baterilla Island.

"Jason and the others should've already made it off the island. As long as I stay here…"

"Then there's no problem."

Winning wasn't the priority.

Stalling the Marines was.

If he could keep them occupied, they wouldn't have time to go after Rouge. That was the real mission— buying enough time for her and the others to escape safely.

Boom!

Lightning flashed, illuminating the island in brief, flickering bursts of light and shadow.

Standing on the ship's deck, Rojen's eyes gleamed in the storm.

Then, he lifted his head and locked eyes with Moya.

Before this, he had always avoided direct eye contact. Moya's eyes had an illusionary quality— similar to Itachi's genjutsu— capable of inducing fear, dizziness, and disorientation. In battle, even the slightest mental intrusion could be fatal.

But now?

Now, Rojen faced him head-on.

"You want to see my true strength?"

His voice was cold and in that moment—

His presence shifted as a sudden, undeniable pressure filled the air.

"Huh?" Moya froze mid-step, his instincts flaring.

For some reason, an unsettling sense of danger crept over him.

"Is he about to use his trump card?"

His muscles tensed as he subtly activated Tekkai—his body hardening in preparation.

Then, he saw it.

Rojen, standing still amid the rain, his expression solemn. Slowly, deliberately, he raised a single palm to his chest.

"What's he planning…?"

"If you survive this move," Rojen declared, his voice carrying a quiet authority, "I'll let you live."

His tone was domineering, almost contemptuous as if Moya were nothing more than an insect beneath him.

"An ultimate move?"

"Is this how Dragon was defeated?"

The weight of the moment pressed down, and Moya's grip tightened around his blades. He braced himself, every nerve on edge.

Then—

Rojen's outstretched palm trembled slightly.

And pushed forward.

"Buzz, buzz, buzz!"

The very air quivered.

Moya's eyes widened as he felt the space around him vibrate unnaturally.

Then, with a whispered breath—

"Tathagata Divine Palm."

The three words resonated through the air, soft yet filled with an undeniable force as if spoken by a deity.

For a fleeting moment, Moya swore he saw golden Sanskrit inscriptions flickering in the downpour.

Then—

"Boom!"

A massive, radiant palm materialized in the sky.

Twenty, perhaps thirty meters across, its sheer presence was overwhelming. As it descended, the world seemed to tremble beneath its might.

"What… what kind of power is this?!" Moya's breath caught in his throat.

The rain— shattered by the force of the palm— scattered in all directions, droplets exploding into mist.

The very air seemed to collapse inward before bursting apart with a deafening thunderclap.

"I can't take this head-on!"

"Tekkai!"

"Busoshoku!"

"Confusion Blade— Illusory Blade Chop!"

Moya unleashed everything at once. His aura surged as he roared, twin blades flashing as he charged straight into the incoming palm.

A single breath later—

"Buzz, buzz, buzz!"

The massive palm struck. Moya was lifted off his feet— no, launched into the sky by the sheer force of the impact.

The unstoppable wave of energy surged past him, continuing forward, crashing into the bow of the warship with devastating force.

Wood splintered and metal groaned as the front of the warship shattered and then, gradually, the enormous palm faded from existence.

Three breaths later—

Moya hit the deck with a heavy thud.

He groaned, flipping onto his feet almost immediately.

"I'm… alive?"

He ran his hands over his body, expecting wounds, broken bones— or something.

But there was nothing.

Not a scratch.

That attack had seemed divine, its power overwhelming, capable of crushing him into dust.

Yet, somehow, it had only sent him flying.

Under the combined defense of Tekkai and Busoshoku Haki, he had taken no actual damage.

"Vice Admiral!"

"Vice Admiral Moya!"

"Quick, check on him!"

Marines rushed toward him, their faces pale with worry.

Moya waved them off. "I'm fine!"

But then his gaze snapped toward the spot where Rojen had been standing.

And his expression twisted.

"Where is he?"

Every Marine followed his stare.

Rojen was gone.

The man who had just unleashed that godlike attack… had vanished.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then—

Moya's lips twitched.

His face darkened, tinged with an odd red hue.

A heartbeat later, his furious roar shook the air.

"Find him! NOW!"

That bastard had played them for fools.

And just as his command rang out—

"Over there!"

"Rojen! It's Rojen!"

Marines near the streets of Baterilla Island spotted a figure dashing through the rain. Moya's eyes burned with rage. He turned sharply, ready to pursue—

But then—

His movements halted. His fingers twitched toward his throat. A thin, crimson line had appeared along his neck, where a blade had barely grazed the skin.

A trickle of blood slid down.

And in that moment—

A chill ran down his spine.

(End of Chapter.)