This was Ryan's newly developed technique—using the Seven Star Sword to harness the power of the Lightning-Lightning Fruit, compressing lightning energy into a "Directed Energy Beam." It represented a "deep refinement" of the Lightning-Lightning Fruit's abilities.
The lightning beam took the form of a "straight laser," its speed far surpassing ordinary lightning, achieving an "instantaneous launch and arrival" ambush effect. Moreover, as a high-density energy beam, it retained the lightning's paralyzing and high-temperature properties while significantly enhancing its penetrating power.
As the beam sliced through the air, it emitted a sharp, explosive screech, leaving behind a fleeting blue-purple trail on the sea's surface. In the blink of an eye, it was already upon Hancock.
Before Hancock could recover from the shock of having the "Hoof of the Flying Dragon" exposed, a sudden, intense palpitation surged in her chest—a danger warning ingrained in her bones from years of battle. Without time to think, her body instinctively reacted, twisting sharply backward to the side.
Yet the lightning beam was ultimately faster than thought. With a "pierce," the laser brutally penetrated Hancock's left shoulder. Blood gushed from the wound's edges, dripping onto Salome's serpentine back.
Fortunately, it wasn't a fatal hit, but the searing pain and numbness from the beam still forced a muffled groan from Hancock.
"Sister!" The sudden turn of events sent Sandersonia and Marigold on the Giant Snake into a frenzy. Their serpentine tails surged, coated in Armament Haki, lashing viciously toward Ryan.
Rob Lucci and Daz Bones, though unsure why they were attacking the "Pirate Empress," didn't hesitate to intervene. Daz's arms instantly transformed into gleaming blades, slashing horizontally at Sandersonia's tail. The moment blade met tail, a crisp "clang" reverberated through the air, sparks flying half a meter high.
"The Kuja's Haki?!" Daz Bones stared at the unscathed tail, visibly shaken.
Since following Ryan, Daz had heard of "Haki" and knew it was a special power capable of countering Devil Fruit users. But only now, facing it firsthand, did he truly grasp its might. His Cut-Cut Fruit could slice through steel with ease, yet it left no mark on the Haki-coated serpent tail.
This level of hardness was far more terrifying than imagined.
"Fire!" The female warriors aboard the Kuja Ship had already drawn their bows to full draw, the black glint of Armament Haki at the arrowheads glaring under the sun. A dense volley of arrows shot toward Lucci and Daz.
Kalifa immediately used "Moonwalk" to leap into the air, Mikita floated skyward with her Float-Float Fruit, and Kaku transformed into his giraffe form, sweeping his elongated neck to repel the approaching warriors.
Despite their efforts, the tide of battle gradually turned against them.
Though most of CP9 and Mikita's group were elite Devil Fruit users, nearly every Kuja warrior wielded Armament Haki. Outnumbered, Kalifa and Kaku were soon forced into retreat.
Only Lucci and Daz Bones managed to hold their ground on the deck.
"Enough!" Just as the skirmish intensified, Ryan suddenly spoke. Though the continuous lightning beam didn't deepen the wound, the lingering electricity kept Hancock immobilized.
At his command, Rob Lucci and the others instantly halted, retreating to the Wave Rider's deck. The Kuja Pirates, with their empress restrained, dared not act rashly.
For a moment, silence fell over the deck.
"You... what did you mean by that earlier?" Hancock's wound still bled, the persistent numbness sapping even the strength to lift her hand. She raised her head with difficulty, deep blue eyes filled with panic, her voice trembling weakly.
"Exactly what I said." Ryan studied Hancock with amusement, his tone laced with playful mockery.
He wasn't probing—he genuinely knew. Hancock was certain of it.
The "Hoof of the Flying Dragon" branded on her back was a scar she'd desperately tried to conceal after escaping Mary Geoise, even deceiving her people and armoring herself with pride, all to bury her past as a "slave."
Yet now, this man had effortlessly seen through all her disguises, casually laying bare the secret she'd spent her life hiding.
"You..." Hancock's voice shook even more, her already pale lips now bloodless. She wanted to demand, "How do you know?" but couldn't even form a complete syllable.
Ryan watched her struggle to speak, surprised.
Though he knew the "Hoof of the Flying Dragon" was Hancock's weak point, he hadn't expected it to reduce the haughty empress to such a state. Even when drowning in seawater, she'd never lost an ounce of her "World's Most Beautiful Woman" dignity.
Then again, the Celestial Dragons' cruelty toward slaves was no secret on the seas: flaying, branding, humiliating—treating people as lifeless playthings. That Hancock had escaped such hell was luck enough. Her visceral reaction to the brand was only natural.
In essence, it was PTSD carved into her bones, a fear even time couldn't erase. The slightest touch shattered her pride to dust.
So, to subdue the "Pirate Empress," even a powerless Celestial Dragon could do it with ease.
"What... do you want?" Hancock bit her lower lip hard, using the pain to suppress the surging terror and shame. She forced herself to meet Ryan's eyes, all traces of her usual arrogance and allure gone, replaced by naked panic.
"That's my question to you." Ryan raised an eyebrow, his voice dropping, still edged with anger. "My ship was sailing peacefully, my crew and I relaxing on deck, when your Kuja Pirates suddenly attacked, turning my people to stone..."
He paused deliberately, adding a teasing lilt. "You started this. What do you want?"
The words struck like a slap. Hancock instinctively wanted to retort, "You blocked our path!" But the words died in her throat, all righteous defiance evaporating.
Before, even when facing a Marine Admiral, she could act willfully to the end—relying on her status as the "World's Most Beautiful Woman."" She knew her worth—even the slightest pout would make others forgive any transgression.
But now was different. It wasn't just her freedom at stake. From the moment Ryan casually mentioned the "Hoof of the Flying Dragon," that bone-deep fear had drained all her willfulness, making even eye contact a struggle.
Ryan took in Hancock's distress, his gaze slowly tracing her striking figure—the soaked white cloak clinging to her body, accentuating her curves, a mix of disheveled yet stubbornly beautiful. A smirk curled his lips as he mused, "Boa Hancock, I'm in a foul mood. What do you suggest we do about it?"
The worth of the World's Most Beautiful Woman needed no elaboration. Ryan had always admired her, but against a powerhouse like Boa Hancock, holding back was never an option. If she died, so be it—just a minor pity.
But now that she was alive... the value of the World's Most Beautiful Woman far exceeded mere "beauty." Waste is shameful, after all.