Vice-captain of Whitebeard pirates

But something strange happened. As Larson's body continued to rise, nearing the 20-meter altitude limit set by the rules, the black hand seemed to vanish, not appearing at all.

When Marco could no longer ascend, he felt an invisible wall above his head, blocking his path.

"Finally?" Marco breathed a sigh of relief. This was the first time he had encountered this barrier. Before, he'd always received special treatment, being knocked down by the shadow. Now, though, he had no idea what had changed—the shadow was gone, the black hand was gone. Was it because his luck had improved?

Marco called down: "I can't go any higher! Can I come down now?"

On the ground, Larson fell deep into thought when he heard Marco's shout.

Everyone else was equally stunned. After all the preparation and tension, now they were being told the black hand had disappeared?

What was going on?

What did this mean? Larson was also confused. He began to recall the first time the black hand had appeared, back when Marco was attempting to descend.

Larson raised his head, looked up at Marco, and shouted: "You can come down now. It seems the black hand won't show up this time."

After saying this, he stole a glance at Whitebeard, Rayleigh, and the others. Everyone got the message instantly, understanding Larson's meaning.

They were all fixed on Marco, watching from below, while Marco remained oblivious to what might happen next.

Upon hearing Larson's words, Marco felt overjoyed.

He hadn't expected things to go so smoothly this time. Had the heavens finally shown him some mercy after all his previous misfortune?

Ah, no matter. The important thing was that he wasn't being attacked.

With that thought in mind, Marco's body slowly began to descend.

On the ground, everyone tensed up, their eyes locked onto Marco's head, ready for any sign of the black hand.

But to Larson's surprise, the black hand did not appear, even as Marco landed safely on the ground.

Could the triggering conditions for the black hand be random this time?

Or was there only one black hand in this area?

Now that it had been removed, was this place safe?

Larson wasn't sure if his suspicions were correct, but regardless of not fully understanding the black hand's ability, he had one conclusion for everyone:

Once they reached this point, they could no longer rely on the same thinking that helped them through previous levels.

Marco's situation was a perfect example. They had originally planned to find the black hand's patterns through repeated trials, as they had in earlier stages. But they hadn't even figured out the conditions for triggering the black hand yet. Clearly, there was a big difference between this level and the last, and the difficulty was much higher.

As soon as Marco touched down, he looked at Larson with a grateful expression.

"Good job."

Larson smiled.

The outcome of the test didn't diminish Marco's praise.

Marco scratched his head, "I didn't expect this to happen. If you need to run another test, I'm up for it."

"No need for now," Larson said, shaking his head.

He had placed all his guesses on the outcome of this attempt. There was no point in trying again.

Marco secretly exhaled in relief. He had been dreading the possibility that Larson might agree to another test.

Although Marco wasn't attacked by the black hand, maintaining high-intensity focus while in the air had been mentally exhausting. If he had to do it again, he wasn't sure if he could hold up.

"So, what's next? Should we keep moving?" Rayleigh asked.

"Of course," Larson replied. "Time is precious, we shouldn't waste it."

Even though they hadn't fully figured out the black hand, Larson wasn't going to let that stop their progress.

If they couldn't work it out, they'd just need to stay extra vigilant.

There was no sense in stalling. Whitebeard and Roger would never allow it, and it would be laughable to hold up their journey over this.

"How do we deal with that thing?" Rayleigh asked, pointing to the black hand on the ground. But he froze in shock a second later. The black hand, which had been lying on the ground, had disappeared. The area was completely empty, with no trace of it anywhere.

"Where did it go? Did anyone touch it just now?"

The others looked baffled. Who would dare touch that thing willingly? It was so disgusting that everyone wanted to avoid it as much as possible.

Larson fell deep into thought. With so many people around, it wasn't likely that someone had moved the black hand—it must have disappeared on its own.

Just a moment ago, everyone's attention had been fixed on Marco in the sky, so no one had been paying attention to the hand on the ground. This meant it had vanished while Marco was still up there.

But exactly how it disappeared was a mystery.

Somehow, the black hand's sudden disappearance left Larson feeling uneasy.

It was like a dead enemy coming back to life, lurking in the shadows to disturb you. You can't ignore it, and yet you have to stay on edge, constantly wary of its return. It was an unsettling, uncomfortable feeling.

"Ahhh!"

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream echoed through the air, catching everyone's attention immediately. The screamer was a crew member of the Roger Pirates, a man named Blue. He had fallen to the ground, completely enveloped by a dark, black substance. His agonized expression and horrifying screams sent chills through the group.

"Blue! What's happening to you, Blue?"

Roger, Rayleigh, Gaban, and the other Roger Pirates rushed over to help. Rayleigh unsheathed a long sword, intending to cut away the black material clinging to Blue's body. However, as soon as the blade touched the black substance, it felt like it had sunk into a thick, sticky sludge, unable to slice through.

Minutes passed.

Blue's agony worsened with each moment, and despite their best efforts, Roger and the others couldn't remove the black substance. Every method they tried failed to penetrate it.

Then, suddenly, Blue's cries stopped. His eyes widened as he stared blankly at the sky, his life slipping away in that chilling, silent moment.

Blue was dead, and the black substance began receding from his body, like a tide pulling away from the shore.

But before it could completely vanish, Larson acted swiftly. He darted forward, and with Susanoo's enormous hands cloaked in blue energy, he grabbed at the retreating black substance.

"Got you!"

Larson's eyes sharpened with fierce determination.

He pulled with all his strength, and a horrific scream erupted from within the black substance.

Everyone felt an immediate, uncomfortable shiver run down their spines. The sound was like nails scraping against glass, filling their minds with an eerie discomfort that made their bodies recoil instinctively.

But Larson endured the terrible noise, applying more force with each pull. Slowly, he began to tear away a large chunk of the black substance, like ripping flesh from a living body.