Chapter 266: Shifting Identities and Last Chances

Meanwhile, the World Government’s CP0 agency received word that their operation had failed yet again—all forces lost, with heavy casualties.

Bang!

Selma slammed the file on her desk, face cold as ice. “Damn it. Another failed plan.”

“Is Cake Island really that impossible to conquer?”

“Lady Selma, your Transponder Snail is ringing!”

A subordinate’s voice suddenly called from outside.

Selma thought, This can’t be good. She’d left the Den Den Mushi outside on purpose because she didn’t want to answer right away, but there’s no hiding when things come calling.

She stepped out, nodded at the guard by the door, waited for him to leave, and only then approached the Transponder Snail.

Brrrluu, brrrluu!

Brrrluu, brrrluu!

What was fascinating about Transponder Snails was this: when someone called you, the snail’s head would morph into their likeness. Whoever answered, their image would show up on the other end too. It left little room for impersonation or fake messages.

Right now, the snail’s head looked like an old man with a giant white beard. No doubt—it was Saint Mars of the Five Elders.

After some hesitation, Selma bit the bullet and picked up the call.

“Hello, Lord of the Five Elders. This is Selma speaking.”

There was a pause on the other end before a deep, steady, old voice came through. “Selma, how did things go?”

“Reporting in, my lord.”

“The plan failed.”

“Trying to snatch someone from Cake Island is basically the same as launching an all-out war on the Rox Pirates.”

“It’s way tougher than we thought. We didn’t even see our target—most died on the shore. Even those lucky enough to reach the Lab didn’t stand a chance against Fields and Notty at the gate.”

“But please rest assured, Lord Five Elders. I’ll find a way to bring Vegapunk back from Cake Island.”

Selma sounded so earnest and righteous that the Long-Bearded Five Elder paused, carefully weighing the viability of involving her any further.

Lux D. Carl—even the World Government couldn’t handle him. Besides, Cake Island was their home turf. The fact that CP0 had managed to sneak agents in at all was impressive.

Truth was, the Five Elders never pinned all hope on CP0. They just wanted to draw out the Lab’s forces. In fact, they’d already sent others for a backup plan—pinpointing the Lab’s location on Cake Island.

After considering for a moment, Saint Mars made up his mind. “Don’t worry. You’re not being blamed.”

“But as for what comes next, I can’t make any promises.”

Mars paused to give Selma ample time to react, then continued.

“This time, you’ll take action personally. The World Government will send two Holy Knights to assist you.”

“The goal remains unchanged—capture Vegapunk. If that fails, eliminate him.”

“Set out for Cake Island right away. You’ll be contacted when you arrive.”

“Yes, Lord Five Elders.”

Selma hung up the call, surprised to find a glimmer of hope—one last chance.

“My final shot. I’m not letting this slip away.”

She tucked the Transponder Snail into her coat and strode out, filled with renewed energy.

Truth is, if she could redeem herself, she’d rather not go on the run. There were World Government spies everywhere on the sea.

Even if the Navy no longer held the New World, Selma knew the Government had centuries of resources. As a CP0 commander, she couldn’t believe there weren’t any eyes in the New World.

If she ran, the rest of her life would be spent fleeing—a thought that was downright suffocating.

Meanwhile, a CP1 agent in a white robe received the World Government’s orders and arrived at the South Blue—Hotma Archipelago.

Famous for its hot springs, this was considered neutral ground in the South Blue. Killing was forbidden—a rule silently kept by many powerful groups, turning the island into a bustling hub. Most deals were closed right here.

In a booth inside the hot spring room, two naked men were engaged in an intense conversation.

“Wang Zhi, do you really think this will work?”

Wang Zhi—no, Yorif immediately shot out a hand to stop Yorde from speaking.

“No, no, no. That’s what I need to correct you on right now.”

“From now on, I’m Yorif, you’re Yorde. We’re brothers. Got it?”

“Don’t forget this new name. It’s our lifeline.”

“This could cost us everything—lives included.”

Yorde immediately glanced around, only daring to whisper after making sure no one was paying attention. “Right, right. I’m Yorde from now on.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t mention the old names again. This secret dies with us.”

Yorif nodded in satisfaction. Reflected in the water were two much younger faces—they clearly had plastic surgery. Looking at their faces alone, no one would ever guess they were once the infamous Wang Zhi and Silver Axe.

A shame, really, about that doctor.

“But that’s still not enough. We need to switch up our weapon styles too. Anything to avoid being recognized.”

“From now on, I’ll fight barehanded and you’ll use a blade.”

“Only by changing ourselves completely can we truly escape.”

Yorde nodded without thinking, then hesitated. “But, just switching from an axe to a blade like that—it’s a bit much to handle all at once.”

Still, to make sure they stuck to the plan, their weapons had already been melted down. New ones were being forged as they spoke.

Creak!

The sound of a door opening drew both men’s eyes. In walked a young man in a white suit and robe, wearing a gentleman’s hat and a bizarre mask. He swept his gaze around, then headed directly toward them with laser focus.

Their fists clenched under the water, muscles tense, a hush of violence hanging in the air. They were ready to explode at any second.

The air nearby seemed to tense up, leaving a heavy pressure on everyone’s chest. No one noticed the chill in the air—that was killing intent.

Fortunately, the masked youth knew his limits. He stopped ten meters away—not out of fear, but for his own reasons.

“Let’s get straight to the point. I’m sure you can guess who I am.” He gestured to his outfit as he spoke.

Yorif and Yorde recognized him right away—a member of the World Government’s CP0. Hard not to with that bizarre getup, not to mention the way he singled them out.

The masked young man continued, “If you don’t mind, may I come a bit closer?”

It sounded like a request, but really, he was pressuring them. After exchanging a look, the two nodded warily—ready to fight if needed.

The man in white seemed oblivious to their tension. Cheerfully, he dragged a small bench over and sat down, just a meter away.

“You two are Wang and Silver, right?”