Vice-captain of Whitebeard pirates

The large mass of black material suddenly vanished into the ground, but the portion in Larson's hand continued to squirm and writhe, as though it was alive.

"How's Blue?" Rayleigh asked.

Rayleigh and the others knelt beside Blue, but he was already gone. No matter how much they shouted his name, there was no response.

Silence.

An eerie stillness settled over the group, the air heavy with grief and tension.

Roger's face was grim, his expression dark and foreboding. Blue had been one of their own, a member of the Roger Pirates. Though all pirates live knowing death could come at any moment, the loss of one of their comrades—especially in such a mysterious and gruesome way—was something they couldn't accept lightly.

The Whitebeard Pirates, too, wore somber expressions. This was the first death since they'd entered Yerug Island. Though Blue wasn't one of their own, the grim reality set in: no one could predict who would be next.

"Find a place to bury Blue," Roger ordered.

They buried him on the spot.

As the Roger Pirates watched Blue's body disappear beneath the earth, sorrow was etched on their faces. Some had just been speaking with him, and now he was gone, buried in a grave of dirt.

No one had expected it to happen so quickly. Even experts like Larson hadn't reacted in time. That was what made it truly terrifying. If Blue hadn't screamed, they might not have even noticed until it was too late.

What did that mean?

It meant the black substance could strike without anyone realizing it. Worse still, there seemed to be no way to defend against it.

After Blue was buried, everyone became increasingly cautious, eyes darting constantly toward the ground. The black substance had retreated underground, and there was every reason to believe it might return to strike again.

Meanwhile, Roger, Whitebeard, Larson, and the others gathered together, all eyes focused on the squirming black material in Larson's hand.

"This stuff gives me the same feeling as those shadows we faced earlier," Larson said, recalling the shadow attacks they had encountered before.

Since he had felt the texture of the shadows firsthand, Larson instantly connected the dots. Holding the black substance now felt disturbingly familiar.

"Are they the same thing?" Rayleigh asked.

"I can't say for sure," Larson replied, "but I suspect this is the new threat we'll face."

Everyone understood Larson's point. They had dealt with shadow attacks before, and now, it seemed, this level of the island had its own dangers—these mysterious black substances.

"What bothers me more," Roger said in a grave tone, "is how it killed Blue."

The fact that Blue had died right in front of them, even as they used their Observation Haki, was terrifying. This black substance's ability to evade detection and kill so stealthily was something they couldn't afford to ignore.

"There were no visible wounds on Blue's body," Rayleigh added, "but the pain he went through—it was unbearable."

"If you get possessed by one of these things, does it really matter how you die?" Larson remarked, gazing down at the squirming black mass in his hand.

The Susanoo energy covering his hand prevented direct contact with the substance, but Larson could still feel its strange movements, as though it had a sinister desire to invade his body.

"Rayleigh, try cutting it with your sword."

Larson lifted his arm, exposing the black substance in his palm.

Rayleigh nodded, silently drew his sword, and sliced at the black mass.

A sharp sound echoed as Rayleigh's sword struck the Susanoo-covered hand. When they looked closer, they noticed that the original ball of black matter had split into two smaller, writhing blobs. It was as though the substance had multiplied, like a living organism splitting into two.

"They remind me of those beasts we encountered on the first floor," Larson said, narrowing his eyes.

No matter how hard they fought those beasts, they couldn't seem to kill them. After each death, the creatures grew stronger. These black substances seemed to have a similar ability, constantly dividing and multiplying.

"Just like the shadows we saw earlier..." Gaban added.

"Wait!" Larson's eyes lit up as he suddenly had a realization. "I know what this thing is!"

"What is it?" Rayleigh asked, his voice full of urgency.

Larson slapped his thigh in frustration. "Why didn't I think of it sooner?"

Everyone grew impatient. Rayleigh pressed him, "Tell us what it is!"

Larson looked around at the group. "I'm sorry. I overlooked something important earlier. If I'd remembered sooner, we wouldn't have had to face so much uncertainty."

No one cared about whether Larson had made a mistake—they just wanted to know what he had discovered.

Larson didn't hold back and immediately explained, "If my guess is right, these black substances are likely the remnants of the hand we chopped off earlier."

"You mean..."

"Exactly." Larson nodded. They had already noticed the black hand's disappearance and wondered if it had anything to do with Blue being attacked. But instead of piecing it together then, they had instinctively searched for another culprit, completely overlooking the missing black hand.

"The hand didn't just vanish. It turned into these black, liquid-like substances, slipped underground, and then attacked us," Larson clarified.

"It seems we've severely underestimated this thing," Rayleigh said calmly, though the weight of the situation was clear in his tone.

When Rayleigh had previously cut off the black hand with his sword, he had thought it was weak and easily dealt with. But in such a short span of time, they had been proven wrong. The black hand had not only killed Blue right in front of them but had also managed to evade their detection and regroup without any of them noticing.

"This stuff is useless," Larson muttered, glaring at the black mass in his hands. Without hesitation, he crushed it to pieces.

However, to his surprise, even after being smashed, the black substances continued to squirm and move, attempting to reassemble and merge back together.

"What kind of vitality is this?" Larson thought, astonished. Was everything in this forest imbued with some form of immortality?

Jabba suddenly spoke up, "I've got an idea. What if we placed these things on the ground? Would they start fusing together? And if they do, could the largest hand—wherever it is—be drawn to them?"

Everyone paused at Jabba's suggestion. It was a clever strategy. If the black substances merged, it might reveal the true form or source of the black hand. This could give them the upper hand in tracking it down or, at the very least, understanding its behavior.