...and the raspy laughter of Madame Elodie, carried on the night wind, was his death knell.Jean gripped the Triton’s mainmast, his knuckles white. Every breath felt like inhaling shards of glass. The pain from the stinging salt crystals beneath his skin was now a constant throbbing, an eternal reminder of his newly exposed weakness.“So that’s how you play the game,” he whispered to the darkness, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. “You didn’t send that little monster to kill me. You just wanted to see me bleed. To see how deep I have to stab myself to win.”He knew he couldn’t wait for the next attack. A defensive fight would only drain the rest of his life, turning him into a salt statue piece by piece. He had to be proactive. He had to create a countermeasure—not for one little monster, but for whatever they would summon next. Something big.“I need a Mass Purification Elixir,” he muttered, closing his eyes and delving into the chaotic library of Atlantis memories in his mind. The r

The sound was not the cracking of Jean’s bones, but the crystalline shriek of the Purifying Elixir bottle as it shattered into fragments, lodging directly in the pulsing anchor-rune at the heart of the Kraken. The dozens of tentacles that had been darting like spears to shred him into pieces stopped instantly, just inches from his skin. Their razor-sharp tips vibrated in the water, paralyzed by the newly released force.The thick silver liquid did not disperse in the water. It injected itself directly into the core of the monster's foul magic, like an antidote delivered straight into an infected vein.“What… what happened?!” screamed Sal from the Foul Bay, covering his eyes. “Why wasn't there an explosion?!”Underwater, Jean felt a tremendous wave of energy push him back. He did not resist. He let the current carry him several meters away, giving him a front-row seat to the show about to unfold. From within the Kraken’s black mass, a silver light began to glow. It wasn't an explosive

—sucking the purifying energy around him, turning his heart into an anchor for their foul magic.The pain was so intimate, so fundamental, that Jean nearly stumbled. He forced himself to remain upright in front of his new crew, swallowing the groan that almost escaped his lips. "I'm fine," he hissed, more to himself than to Luc, who was watching him anxiously."Boss?" Bastien stepped forward, his bruised face showing a strange concern. "Do... do you need a doctor?""No doctor can fix this," Jean replied, his eyes shifting from Bastien to the gaping window. Outside, the Kraken waited with the patience of an apex predator, its colossal body casting a shadow that swallowed half the lobby. The first problem with having such a massive ally: it couldn’t exactly hang out at a cafe. "Now listen up. All of you, clean this place out. Take over Le Requin’s communication system. I want every call entering and leaving this port to pass through your ears. Understand?""Understood, Boss," Bastien sa

The sound was the crack of Anton’s finger bones as Jean gripped his wrist, twisting it with inhuman, cold strength. The encrypted phone dropped from Anton's grasp, its screen cracking as it hit the floor of alchemical coral.“You think I’m stupid?” Jean hissed, his pale eyes now glowing with a calm, terrifying anger. He didn't need to hear Anton's conversation. He could feel it. The thick wave of betrayal felt like foul oil spilling inside the lab he had just cleaned. “You think I would leave you alone with all my toys?”“Valéry... let go!” Anton whined, trying to pull his hand away, but Jean’s grip was as hard as transmuted steel. “I just… I was just looking for a way out! You’re going to turn into a pillar of salt! I don't want to end up as a display in your museum!”“Your way out is through a grave, Anton,” Jean countered, shoving the traitor until his back slammed against the wall. “But I’m not in the mood to make a corpse today. You’re much more useful to me if you can still thin

The bottle of Purifying Potion in Anton’s hand did not break. The sound came from behind him, from the direction of the lab aboard the *Triton*. The sound of metal being violently forced to bend. The old Captain Neptune merely offered a thin smile, his cold eyes never leaving Anton’s face.“A brave choice, boy,” the Captain said, his voice as calm as the deep sea. “But you’re aiming at the wrong target. I am not your enemy.”Anton froze, the Potion still inches from his lips. He slowly turned around. On the *Triton*'s deck, one of the salt cuffs that had bound him in the lab had been transmuted back into solid form, crushing a ventilation pipe until it buckled. Jean. Even from this distance, from the heart of the Nexus storm, he could still touch him. A warning.“He… he can still control things from there?” Anton whispered, disbelief thick in his voice.“Of course,” Captain Neptune replied, as if discussing the weather. “The Nexus is his power source. The closer he gets, the stronger