Kapitel 43: Quality is not good

"Perfect...", Sengoku murmured with a triumphant smile as he watched Hashirama take the full brunt of the Seraphims' attacks. He knew who he was facing, and he had bet everything on this battle.

He didn't care if the marines knew about the existence of the Seraphims. All that mattered was defeating Hashirama and protecting Marineford.

King, for his part, observed the scene with a mixture of surprise and confusion. The sudden appearance of these children with features so similar to his own had baffled him.

"Eh... who are these kids?", he wondered aloud. "What exactly is the World Government doing?"

Despite his anger and confusion, King knew it was not the time to get angry. He restrained himself from going berserk and refrained from participating in this confrontation.

"Interesting... a decent attack power for children."

The dust and smoke cleared, revealing Hashirama, unscathed, dusting off his armor with a mocking smile. He observed the two Seraphims with interest, perceiving a slight glimmer of consciousness in them.

"You...", Sengoku murmured helplessly, looking at Hashirama intact. Although he knew that the Seraphims' attacks would not harm him, he still held a glimmer of hope.

"Do you think this simple little light would hurt me?", Hashirama asked disdainfully, shaking his head. "These children only had the opportunity to attack me because I let them. I wanted to test their strength, I was hoping to see something new, but the result was so disappointing that they didn't even make me take a step back."

"You... you...", Sengoku stammered, speechless. His plan to catch Hashirama off guard with the Seraphims had failed miserably, leaving him in ridicule in front of everyone.

At that moment, King intervened. "Lord Hashirama," he said, "these Seraphim seem to be made in the image and likeness of the former Shichibukai, with the image of Doflamingo and Crocodile. So there must be 5 more of these children..."

"Correct, King," Sengoku replied, interrupting King's words. "They are new Pacifista units developed by Dr. Vegapunk with the intention of replacing the Seven Warlords of the Sea, but with the features of the Lunaria tribe."

"Vegapunk?", Hashirama asked curiously, a deep memory awakening in his mind.

Years ago, a young man with a disproportionately large head had approached him. The young man, who called himself Vegapunk, had proposed a collaboration to study his Wood Style and explore the truth behind its powerful force and element. He had explained that he was experimenting with lineage factors and cloning, but Hashirama, knowing what his cells could cause if they were studied and spread throughout the world, had rejected him without hesitation.

In the end, Vegapunk was arrested by the World Government and forced to work for them.

A sharp whistle cuts through the air like a knife, breaking the tense calm of the battlefield.

Suddenly, Hashirama, vanishes before the astonished eyes of everyone, like a mirage dissolving into the mist. Confusion grips them, their eyes desperately searching for the invisible enemy.

Sengoku reacts with lightning speed, his voice echoing with urgency: "Prepare yourselves! He's coming!"

As soon as he utters the words, Hashirama reappears like a ghost, his giant hand extending towards S-Flamingo, the Seraphim with Doflamingo's appearance.

A lightning-fast movement. Hashirama's fingers close around S-Flamingo's neck, squeezing with brutal force.

The Seraphim's eyes widen in terror and agony. A muffled scream escapes his throat, but it is silenced by Hashirama's iron grip.

In a panic, he tries desperately to defend himself. Ten threads of fine, almost transparent silk sprout from his fingers like venomous snakes, wrapping Hashirama's body in a deadly net. They cling to his skin as if they had a life of their own, seeking to penetrate his flesh and stop his advance.

"The same ability as Doflamingo?" Hashirama, unfazed by the attack, just smiles with a cruel grimace. With a sudden movement, he shakes his body violently, freeing himself from the silk bonds. The threads break as if they were fragile spiderwebs, unable to withstand his brute force.

With a lightning-fast gesture, Hashirama grabs S-Flamingo's head in his colossal hands. His fingers dig into the flesh like claws, tearing the head from its body. A jet of green blood explodes from the severed neck, splattering Hashirama's face and the battle-soaked ground.

The Seraphim's head falls to the ground with a thud, its lifeless glassy eyes staring up at the empty sky.

But the carnage doesn't end there. Hashirama, With S-Flamingo's fresh blood still on his hands, decides to test the strength of the other Seraphim.

"Let's see..."

With a brutal movement, he severs S-Flamingo's headless body's limbs, tearing off arms and legs with terrifying ease.

The Seraphim's bloody torso writhes on the ground like a dying worm. Hashirama observes the severed limbs with a cold, disdainful gaze. "These kids are really weak," he mutters in a raspy voice, his tone laced with contempt.

With a brusque gesture, he throws the severed limbs to the ground. They land with a thud, blending into the blood-soaked soil.

An eerie silence falls over the battlefield.

Hashirama, unfazed by the death, turns his gaze towards the last Seraphim. His raspy voice breaks the silence, laden with a chilling question: "Crocodile, right?"

In the blink of an eye, his body transforms into a whirlwind of motion. He approaches the Seraphim with superhuman speed, his fist raised like a hammer.

The Seraphim, still reeling from the brutality of his comrade's death, desperately tries to defend himself. But his efforts are futile against Hashirama's strength.

With a brutal blow, Hashirama strikes the Seraphim's chest. The sound of a horrific crack echoes through the air, followed by an explosion that shakes the ground. The Seraphim's body disintegrates into a shower of organs and green blood, splattering him, the ground, and the Marines around him.

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