The quiet rhythm of soft breathing drifted from beneath the blankets.
Ron hesitated for a moment, then steeled himself.
Whoosh—
He threw the blanket aside.
A flawless, graceful figure greeted his eyes.
Slap!
Ron smacked his own forehead.
"Why are you not wearing any clothes?"
He glanced down—then sighed in relief.
No signs of "battle."
No torn sheets.
No trace of blood.
Good.
He hadn't done anything stupid last night.
Feeling the cool air, Yoruichi wriggled closer into his chest. Her golden eyes gleamed with amusement.
"What's this~?"
"Getting shy now?"
"I—no! Don't start—"
Ron's denial came rapid-fire.
Her smirk deepened, the corners of her lips curling.
And then she went for it—close-range ultimate:
"Oh? You sure? Because someone fell asleep last night licking my ear, hugging my waist, and just about—"
"!!!"
Ron froze.
"Wait—what?! How come I don't remember that?!"
Yoruichi chuckled, stretched languidly, her every movement a lazy provocation.
"Relax. I'm just teasing you. Breakfast should be ready."
With that, she rose, stretching like a cat basking in sunlight—her toned, dark skin glinting faintly in the morning light.
Then—
Poof!
The sultry beauty vanished, replaced by a sleek black cat who flicked her tail smugly and strutted out the door.
Ron rubbed his temples.
"That woman is lethal…"
He got up, pulled on his shirt—then stopped.
Something stirred inside him.
A wave of power pulsed through every cell in his body, deep and potent. His strength—his very essence—felt subtly transformed.
"Magic?"
Right.
He'd fused with dragon physiology last night.
It wasn't just physical enhancement—this was something far beyond.
Dragons are born with magic.
He closed his eyes.
All across the Sabaody Archipelago, he could feel it—an invisible current of energy flowing through the air. It responded to him, drawn toward him, slowly nourishing his body and soul.
"No wonder Lucoa's dragons are so strong…"
He lifted a hand, focusing that new power.
The air trembled.
A crimson glow flickered into existence above his palm—dense, violent, alive. The surrounding space rippled like water.
At that instant, Yoruichi's presence flashed back at the doorway. She had sensed it too.
"If you plan on blowing up this island, fine," she said dryly. "But at least let me leave first."
Even in her Bankai state, she could feel the sheer destructive force condensed in that flicker of light.
It wasn't just energy—it was the raw essence of the world, compressed into tangible matter.
If that power detonated, Sabaody itself would vanish from the map.
Ron exhaled calmly.
"Just a test."
He clenched his fist.
The red sphere shattered into motes of light and dispersed.
"So this is magic, huh…"
He stroked his chin, thoughtful.
Different worlds had different names for it—ki, aura, spiritual energy, haki—but it was all the same thing: power born from life itself, only shaped by different rules.
"Good. No more fistfights."
"If I can compress this stuff close-range and throw it…"
He smirked.
"That's an instant nuke."
Yoruichi gave him a look halfway between exasperation and respect.
"Come on. Breakfast."
Ron scooped her up—this time she didn't resist.
She knew it was pointless.
After breakfast, Ron flipped open the freshly delivered newspaper behind the bar.
[Navy SWORD Unit critically injures Big Mom Pirates' Cream Minister — World Government declines responsibility.]
[Revealed: SWORD Officer "Peacock" confirmed as Admiral Tsuru's granddaughter!]
[Breaking: Kaido's Beast Pirates and Red-Haired Shanks' crew set to clash in New World within five days!]
"Peacock…"
Ron tapped the page, eyes narrowing.
A photo showed a woman in a tight crimson combat dress beneath her "Justice" coat, wielding a whip mid-swing.
Strong figure. Sharp eyes. Queenly air.
"So, you like this type of young girl?"
Lucoa leaned over, smiling slyly.
"Young? Really?"
Ron blinked, then looked at her.
Yeah… compared to Lucoa, the girl on the paper might as well be a teenager who hadn't even finished growing.
Before he could respond—
BANG!
The tavern door burst open.
A shadow hurtled inside and crashed toward the bar like a meteor.
"AHHH—!"
It was Demon Xiaolong.
Lucoa frowned slightly, flicking her wrist.
A violet sigil shimmered in midair—
BOOM!
The demon slammed straight into it, flattening like a bug on glass.
"Old man! You really went all out this time!"
Moments later, the Holy Lord strode through the door, face dark as thunder.
"That's what you get for interrupting my training arc."
"Training arc? You mean your decrepit protein's already expired!"
Xiaolong sneered, brushing off the dust.
Both demons glared, lightning crackling in the air.
"Gentlemen," Lucoa said lazily, leaning against the bar, "what can I get you to drink?"
The calm, melodic tone hit them like divine thunder.
In that instant—
Both the Holy Lord and Xiaolong froze.
Their backs went cold.
That pressure…
It wasn't just power.
It was existence itself telling them—don't move.
If Yoruichi was a fight they couldn't win, this woman was an existence they didn't even dare to fight.
Without hesitation, the Holy Lord pressed his son's head down and bent at the waist ninety degrees.
"Our apologies, ma'am. We were… impulsive."
Lucoa smiled faintly.
"No need to be nervous. I'm just the waitress here."
Waitress.
That word alone made both demons tremble.
If she was merely staff—
Then what kind of monster was the owner of this place?
The Holy Lord swallowed hard, silently thanking every star in the sky that he hadn't caused trouble during his first visit.
Otherwise…
Today, his son wouldn't just be on the floor—
He'd be getting his funeral service.
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