"Saint Rosse, you..."
Olvia glared hatefully at Rosse, her expression and gaze as if she wanted to devour him.
Unfortunately, she didn't have Conqueror's Haki. Her gaze had no lethality.
How could she not know that Rosse was trying to make them kill each other?
But the outcome Rosse described was just too terrifying.
Once someone became the sole survivor of Ohara and admitted to Ohara's mistakes and repented. Then everything they had done over the years would have been in vain.
Not only that, what would her act of killing her comrade just now count as?
Once the bow is drawn, there's no turning back on the arrow.
At this moment, Olvia's heart was filled with despair.
She knew that from the moment she fired the first shot, there was no room for retreat.
And Rosse's words had completely torn away her last shred of dignity, putting the life-or-death decision of each historian out in the open.
Olvia didn't know if anyone would resist, but she knew that if she didn't act quickly now, she could be overwhelmed during the gap when reloading.
'No!'
'I havw already sacrificed too much.'
'No!'
'I won't allow that kind of ending!'
A trace of pathological ruthlessness flashed in Olvia's eyes. She picked up the gun in her hand and suddenly pulled the trigger.
BANG!!!
The gunshot rang out again.
Not only did it signify the death of a historian, but it also meant the remaining six historians snapped out of it.
Passively facing death wasn't terrifying to them. The gunshot was only a moment, death only a fleeting instant.
But watching their comrades fall one by one right before their eyes, killed by the ones they cherished the most, that kind of torment and despair constantly corroded the historians' hearts.
The bodies of their fallen comrades lay right beside them. How could they still endure Rosse's temptation?
To survive, that became their only hope.
"Olvia, you demon!"
A burly male historian shouted and charged at Olvia.
The rest of the survivors also began to act, rushing toward Olvia.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
After three gunshots, three male historians fell to the ground, but Olvia's gun was now out of bullets.
The remaining two female and one male historians had also rushed close and began to punch at Olvia.
SMACK!
Olvia pressed her lips together, raised her silver pistol, and fiercely smashed it onto the head of the only remaining male historian.
She'd sailed the seas for many years and did have some ability.
At least, her strength was a bit greater than the average person.
But even so, it was still quite limited.
Under the siege of three people, Olvia was still in a perilous situation.
"Olvia…", Robin had fallen to the ground, dazedly staring at the scene in front of her.
The mother she respected and loved, fighting with other historians over the Poneglyph research, was now locked in a brawl like street thugs in a village.
In this moment, the motherly image shaped by Doctor Clover and the other historians was completely shattered.
So, her mother wasn't that noble after all. Not much different from the uncle's family who used to bully her.
The only difference might be that she wouldn't lay hands on her. Unlike her uncle's family, who would actually beat her.
SMACK!
After a minute of grappling, Olvia finally won the battle.
Or perhaps, under the watchful eyes of so many powerful people, Olvia's victory was inevitable.
Olvia staggered to her feet, wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, and ignored her injuries as she stared dead-on at Rosse.
"Saint Rosse, you promised me! You promised me!"
"I did promise you. But did you count how many you killed just now?", Rosse asked in return.
"Seven. According to your promise, that's counted as fourteen... fourteen..."
Olvia's face suddenly froze.
'Yes, fourteen. I am still one short.'
"I still have time. Ohara still has others," Olvia's eyes turned bloodshot, her voice hoarse.
Things had come this far, how could she allow herself to fall short by just one?
"Others? Ohara still has others?"
Rosse looked at Spandine, as if asking a casual question.
But who was Spandine? He instantly understood and quickly responded, "Reporting to Saint Rosse, the remaining Ohara civilians have already evacuated by refugee ships. Right now, the only ones left in all of Ohara are us."
Whether those lowlifes evacuated or not didn't matter, this was what he had to say.
Others might not know what Saint Rosse was playing at, but how could he not?
'Damn it, even among the Celestial Dragons, Saint Rosse is absolutely the most twisted one.'
But Spandine only dared to rant this inside his head. On the surface, he didn't say a word. He was already ready to treat Rosse like his own father.
With such a terrifying Celestial Dragon who liked playing mind games, how could he dare harbor the slightest improper thought? Even multiple lives wouldn't be enough to compensate.
"No more?", Olvia was instantly stunned. Her arms hung limp, and the platinum pistol she'd been holding tightly finally slipped from her grasp.
Zannie immediately appeared beside her, picking up the gun before it hit the ground, and in the blink of an eye appeared beside Rosse, respectfully presenting it with both hands.
Rosse smoothly changed the magazine and handed the gun back to Zannie.
Zannie understood his intent and brought the gun back to Olvia.
"I've already gone easy on you. Counted two for each person. Think carefully," Rosse said calmly.
"Impossible! This is absolutely impossible to complete! You never intended to let me continue researching the Poneglyphs!", Olvia shouted emotionally.
Both were historians, how could the gap be so wide?
If it were Verlan instead, he would've probably understood what Rosse meant even before firing the first shot.
Of course, if it were Verlan, Rosse wouldn't have made that initial request in the first place.
"I'm not so tasteless as to go back on my word. Since I said it, then it can definitely be done."
Rosse said blandly, "Think, take your time. Don't let anger and hatred cloud your eyes. Right now, you don't have the right to choose."
"Either continue, and kill the last person."
"Or I take you away, and you'll stay in Mary Geoise forever, never again touching the Poneglyphs."
"No! Let me think!", Olvia pressed her lips together, her mind spinning rapidly.
She was like a gambler who had lost 38 rounds, and knew the 39th was a guaranteed win. With a payout ten times greater than all the previous losses combined.
At this point, how could anyone possibly give up?
'Ohara's people... Ohara's people...'
'Right, I am an Ohara person too!'
'But, I can't kill myself.'
'If I kill myself, won't everything up until now be meaningless?'
'Calm down! Calm down!'
Olvia forced herself to calm down, her gaze still fixed on Rosse.
Suddenly, she saw Rosse smile and crouch down, gently patting Robin's head.
'Robin...'
'Watching me kill so many people must've really hurt her.'
Only now did Olvia realize, she had killed all the historians right in front of her daughter.
"Ohara... Ohara!"
Olvia's gaze stayed fixed on Robin, gradually turning vacant, muttering only the word "Ohara."
'Yes!'
'She is from Ohara. Robin is from Ohara too!'
Robin was the true key to Rosse's "breaking point."
'But... why does it have to be Robin!'
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