I collect everything in the One Piece world.

He didn't see Morsen's sudden appearance as a threat at all; instead, he treated it like seeing a novel toy.

Saint Roswald frowned, glanced upwards, snorted but did not stop his son, seemingly tacitly approving of his son's mischief.

Or rather, he didn't care about the attitude and nonsense of an ant at all; this stemmed from the arrogance inherent in the Celestial Dragons.

Charlia Palace, standing nearby, adjusted her sunglasses, her gaze behind the lenses fixed on Morsen above with interest. She added to the guard beside her, "Hurry up, don't let him get away. I also want to see what's so special about this 'Black Cat' who's been making headlines lately."

"I saw it first! You're not allowed to take it from me!" Charles Saint shouted indignantly.

"Hmph, whoever catches it first gets to keep it." Charlia Palace showed no mercy to her brother.

Two Celestial Dragons actually got into a minor argument over "ownership" of Morsen. This scene left the terrified guests in the audience feeling utterly absurd.

The "Black Cat Detective," who is like the Grim Reaper in their eyes, seems to be nothing more than a "living collectible" that can be fought over at will and is about to be obtained by the Celestial Dragons.

The tense and fearful atmosphere in the arena took on a strange twist because of this absurd argument. Some people even wondered if everything was really alright. If the Celestial Dragons weren't afraid, what were they afraid of?

However, just as Charles Saint's bodyguards and the guards of Charlemagne Palace were preparing to receive their orders, Disco secretly breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that the situation was still "under control."

Drop drop... drop drop...

A rapid, rhythmic electronic buzzing sound, so distinct it was unsettling, suddenly emanated from beneath the chair where the Celestial Dragon was sitting.

The sound wasn't loud, but it was unusually jarring in the hall, which had suddenly become quiet due to the Celestial Dragons' argument.

The black-clad bodyguards, who were about to take action, suddenly stopped in their tracks, their expressions changing drastically!

They were all elites and were familiar with this sound; it was the countdown to detonation.

"I said, the auction is over." The calm voice rang out again from the dome.

"In addition, the people on the platform, and those in black clothes around you."

"I advise you not to make any moves."

"If you don't want to be fried into mincemeat."

Chapter 22, The Celestial Dragons Being Threatened

[In the tourist area, the woman who had previously inquired at the Old Time Antique Shop was also sitting in the cafe, drinking coffee and looking at the newspaper in her hand, her eyebrows raised, unable to hide her surprise.]

On the nearby table lay a portrait that had been repeatedly revised; it bore a striking resemblance to Mosen.

Upon hearing the warning from the dome, the black-clad man who appeared to be the leader of the guards beside the Holy Throne of Roswald instantly felt his blood run cold and the hairs on his body stand on end!

What did he hear? A bomb? Under Saint Roswald's seat?!

A chill ran from his tailbone straight up to the top of his head. He wished he could immediately draw his gun or use "Shave" to rush up to the dome and tear that masked madman to shreds!

But reason and the increasingly urgent "beep beep" in his ears locked his legs tightly, preventing him from making the slightest unnecessary movement.

"Gulp..." The guard leader swallowed hard, his throat dry and sore.

He forced himself to calm down, suppressing the turmoil in his heart and the murderous intent that was about to burst forth. He raised his head, looked at the blurry figure in the shadow of the dome, and said in a deep voice as calmly as possible:

"Do you know what you're doing? You're threatening God..."

However, he hadn't finished speaking.

boom!!!

A sudden explosion rang out from the right rear corner of the auction hall!

Flames, thick smoke, broken limbs, fragments of expensive dresses, and a sticky mixture of blood and flesh were instantly splattered on the nearby walls, carpets, and chairs!

Several wealthy people who were just arguing about the Celestial Dragons and secretly complaining or making plans didn't even have time to utter a scream before they were turned into crimson mincemeat smeared on the walls and seats in this unexpected explosion!

"Ahhhh!!!"

"Help!!"

"Explosion! It's exploded!"

After a brief silence, there came even more shrill and chaotic screams and cries!

The guests who were lucky enough to escape the bombs scrambled to get away, but dared not go too far for fear of triggering unknown bombs elsewhere.

The air was instantly filled with a strong smell of gunpowder and a pungent stench of blood.

Above the dome, Mosen's emotionless voice fell once more, precisely severing all the noise and wishful thinking:

"If you say another word of nonsense, next time, it will be your masters who will be spreading it evenly."

This calm statement is more intimidating than any roar.

The guard leader's remaining words were stuck in his throat, his face ashen, and his back instantly soaked with cold sweat.

He looked at the shocking, still-warm "abstract painting" on the wall not far away, and listened to the beeping sound beside him that sounded like a death knell. The last bit of hope in his heart vanished.

This madman! He's serious! He actually dares to kill a Celestial Dragon! And he's capable of it and fully prepared! Damn it!

He clenched his teeth tightly, daring not to make any unnecessary movements or utter any words, and could only use his eyes to signal the other guards, who were also frozen in place, to remain still.

The only thing they can do now is not to make any rash moves, otherwise, if that madman above gets upset, the Celestial Dragons they are guarding will be instantly pulverized.

On the high platform, Charles Saint was so frightened by the explosion that he let out a howl, snot bubbles flying from his nose. He slumped back down, his legs trembling like leaves. Gone was the excitement of fighting for the "new collection"; only the most primal fear remained.

Charlia Palace could no longer maintain her aloof and indifferent mask. Her delicate face drained of color, and she subconsciously gripped her father Roswald Saint's arm tightly, her body trembling slightly.

They weren't afraid of the tragic deaths of those "mortals"—they'd done it before—but rather because it was the first time they'd felt death so close and completely out of their control.

From childhood to adulthood, they have always been the ones taking other people's lives; they have never had their own lives so casually taken by others.

This kind of mind-blowing fear is far more devastating to them than seeing the bloodshed itself.

Roswald Saint's face was so gloomy it was almost dripping with water. He tried to remain calm, but his knuckles were turning white as he gripped the armrest tightly.

He just couldn't understand how things had gotten to this point.

In Sabaody, in the Celestial Dragons' "backyard," someone dared to plant a bomb under his seat, blatantly threatening the lives of his family of three! And they actually succeeded!

Even when Fisher Tiger wreaked havoc in Mary Geoise, he only dared to free the slaves and dared not harm a single Celestial Dragon!

This "Black Cat Detective" is absolutely insane! He's completely lawless!

But he had experienced more, and although anger, humiliation, and fear were intertwined in his heart, his mind was still racing.

The navy and guards outside must have heard the explosion! They'll soon discover something's wrong!

So if we delay for just a few more minutes... no, even less, the admiral might arrive!

At that time, this cowardly bastard will have nowhere to escape!

What he needs to do now is to try to keep this madman calm and buy time.

However, as if it could read his mind, that damned voice rang out again, shattering his last plan:

"Don't harbor unrealistic fantasies that the navy or admirals outside can save you in time."

Mosen paused, seemingly giving everyone time to process the harsh reality, before continuing in a deep voice:

"As long as there is any unusual activity outside the auction house, any sign of an attempt to force a breakthrough, or... I think we've dragged this out long enough."

"I will detonate the bomb immediately."

"Even if the admiral arrives at the speed of light, all he can do is order his men to carefully 'collect' your family of three from the ruins bit by bit with spoons."

"Of course, I hope that by then they will still be able to distinguish which are the esteemed Saint Rozwald, which are Saint Charlos, and which are from the Charlos Palace."

This extremely bloody and insulting description almost shattered Roswald Saint's last shred of composure.

His forehead veins bulged, his teeth clenched so tightly they cracked, and he whispered hoarsely, filled with hatred:

"Damn you...you! What do you want?!"

Mosen seemed unfazed by his anger, his voice remaining calm as he issued his first clear instruction:

"The auctioneer standing on the stage, wearing a sequined suit, looking like a clown."

Disco, whose name was called, shuddered. The obsequious and professional smile on his face vanished, leaving only fear and bewilderment.

"Now, go and unlock the chains of all the slaves in the warehouse and release them. Including this one on the platform, and all those who haven't come up yet. Immediately, right now."

Chapter 23, The Crazy Plan

Disco was stunned for several seconds before realizing, under the almost murderous gazes of everyone around him, including the Celestial Dragons, that the other party was giving him an order.

Although he felt somewhat humiliated, under the dual pressure of the bomb and the lives of the Celestial Dragons, how could he dare to hesitate even for a moment?

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes! I'll do it right away! Please don't be impulsive!" Disco's voice was trembling with tears as he frantically pulled out several bunches of keys from his pocket.

Ignoring all pretense of decorum, he scrambled off the auction stage and yelled at the equally terrified staff, "What are you all standing there for?! Go unlock it!"

"Release all the slaves! Now! Do you want to kill Lord Roswald?!"

The staff member snapped out of his daze, took the key, and stumbled toward the back warehouse.

The long-armed woman on stage was also unlocked by Disco himself and pushed off the stage with a bewildered expression.

When Charles Saint saw that the "princess" he had just "bid" was about to be released, he instinctively wanted to shout to stop her, but as soon as he turned his head, he met his father Roswald Saint's extremely gloomy eyes.

Charles Saint shuddered in fright, swallowing back the words he was about to say, and could only watch the "toy" slip away with resentment and fear.

They are nothing but the lives of a bunch of lowly slaves... How can they be compared to my noble life!

Roswald roared inwardly, but outwardly he could only forcefully suppress it.

He had never felt so humiliated, so powerless.

As a descendant of God, the most noble person in the world, he was cornered by a cowardly criminal in the most brutal way, and he didn't even dare to say a harsh word!

Beneath Roswald Saint's lowered eyelids lay endless resentment and murderous intent.

No matter who you are, no matter where you run to, the World Government will find you and torture you to death in the most cruel way!

Your family, your friends, everyone connected to you will pay the price for the offense you committed today!

Roswald made a silent vow in his heart, but that was a matter for later. All he could do at the moment was to endure and wait, and he could only bury this overwhelming hatred for the time being.

Inside the auction hall, only the urgent beeping and suppressed sobs remained, along with the faint sounds of locks being opened and slaves running around in a daze from the direction of the distant warehouse.

Time ticked by, each second agonizing in fear and humiliation.

At this moment, inside the warehouse passageway below the auction hall.