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Oppressive.
The entire lobby felt suffocated, as if the air itself had thickened.
Lucci stood bare-chested now, his physique lean but packed with power. Muscles cut clean lines across his frame, and old scars—puncture marks that had long since closed—ran over his body like a record of slaughter. It made him even more intimidating.
Less than three meters from him, Morks—the overall chief of Cipher Pol's East Blue branch—looked at Ryukawa with cold amusement.
He could already picture it.
What came next would be worse than death.
Being targeted by that killing god…
was never a game.
"Rob Lucci…"
Morks' lips trembled as thoughts spiraled.
"That monster—years ago, he was sent to rescue five hundred hostages… and in the end he killed every single hostage himself."
"And then he slaughtered the enemy… countless dead."
"A born killing machine."
"After that, he was given the title: the strongest CP9 agent in eight hundred years."
"This man only knows obedience. Whoever he's ordered to kill—he won't hesitate."
"As his enemy, you'd freeze to the bone…"
"Even as his colleague, you'd still get goosebumps."
Morks knew Lucci's reputation better than most.
Normally, a monster like that wouldn't appear in a backwater like East Blue.
But fate had aligned just right.
Lucci happened to be in East Blue on another mission, crossed paths with this incident—
and the higher-ups handed him the case.
"Poor kid…"
"If Lucci hadn't stepped in, you might've actually escaped Loguetown."
"But your luck is rotten. You just had to run into the killing god—CP9's strongest in eight hundred years."
"A freak who kills without blinking."
Morks almost felt pity.
Facing an enemy like that…
Most people would lose the will to fight before the first blow landed.
It was an executioner.
Just imagining Lucci as his own enemy made Morks' legs want to go weak.
Too terrifying.
A monster like that wasn't something ordinary men could handle.
"Honestly, as an intruder, losing to Lucci isn't even shameful," Morks thought bitterly.
"CP9's strongest in eight hundred years taking action—of course you'd lose."
"In East Blue, who could even stand in the same arena as that thing?"
"It's like a final boss wandered into a beginner village."
"And this kid is unlucky enough to meet him here—this place of all places—when even on the Grand Line, Lucci would still qualify as a true boss."
Morks sighed.
Life was absurd.
In the end…
the kid's luck was simply terrible.
Meeting Rob Lucci meant the outcome was already written.
Even without the two thousand elites outside, Morks believed one thing:
As long as Lucci stayed in the base, no intruder could ever be a threat.
"Rob Lucci alone…"
"He's worth a five-thousand-man elite force."
"One man… equal to a legion."
"How can anyone withstand a monster like that?"
Morks hurried backward several steps, clearing the wide space in front.
He didn't want to be caught in the splash radius once the fight erupted.
Lucci stretched his arms, finishing his warm-up, then looked at Ryukawa with calm indifference.
"So," he said, voice flat, "are you ready?"
The lobby—twenty meters wide—now held only two people.
Lucci.
And Ryukawa.
Ryukawa chuckled.
"You really don't take me seriously."
He lifted his gaze, looking around.
He could see it clearly:
Elite agents with rifles raised, gun barrels all pointed at him.
And yet—
Ryukawa felt no sense of danger at all.
Bang!
A gunshot cracked the air with no warning.
A bullet tore through space, aimed straight at Ryukawa's head.
Fast.
Too fast for ordinary eyes.
In the next instant—
Ryukawa raised his left hand casually.
And caught it.
Yes.
He caught the bullet barehanded.
The metal round—carrying terrifying penetration—was stopped cold in his fingers.
"Too slow."
Ryukawa crushed it into a lump with a squeeze and tossed it aside.
Clink.
The deformed bullet bounced on the floor, the sound ringing through the hall.
Everyone saw it.
No one even cared anymore about who fired first.
All eyes were locked on Ryukawa.
Barehanded… caught it?!
Morks' pupils shrank.
"This kid…"
His expression shifted.
For the first time, a suspicion crept in:
This intruder wasn't ordinary.
Not at all.
Catching a bullet with his bare hand—
That reaction speed alone proved he wasn't some random brat.
No wonder he dared storm a Cipher Pol base.
So he really did have some skill.
Lucci also drew in his contempt slightly.
Catching bullets wasn't impressive.
Lucci could do it too.
But it did confirm one thing—
Ryukawa wasn't weak.
"Still," Lucci said coldly, "it doesn't matter."
"You're facing me."
"If I hadn't come here today… maybe you could've actually destroyed this base alone."
"But since I'm here…"
"You won't."
Lucci's confidence was ironclad.
This was East Blue—the weakest sea.
To Lucci, reigning here was nothing.
Ryukawa's smile didn't fade.
"I didn't want to clear the field," he said lightly.
"But unfortunately…"
"They're too annoying."
"To keep them from disturbing us mid-fight…"
"I'm going to make them quiet for a while."
He looked at Lucci, tone still relaxed.
"What do you think?"
Lucci's eyes sharpened.
A bad feeling surfaced—thin but unmistakable.
"What are you talking about?"
"Nothing," Ryukawa said with a small smile. "Just letting them sleep."
He paused.
"Oh, and the ones outside too."
"You said there are two thousand of them, right? To save time…"
"I'll handle them as well."
Lucci's mouth opened—
"Kid, you—"
He didn't finish.
Because Ryukawa moved.
Without warning.
So suddenly that even Lucci couldn't pre-read it.
A faint ripple spread from Ryukawa's body, thin as mist. It flowed out in all directions, reaching every corner of the hall.
Soft.
Gentle.
Like a stream.
Then—
Boom.
The pressure spiked.
The stream became a roaring flood.
A terrifying aura erupted with Ryukawa as the center, exploding outward.
Not just the lobby.
Not just the building.
It surged through the walls and spilled into the streets outside, washing over everything within hundreds of meters.
No gaps.
No exceptions.
The eruption happened in a heartbeat.
That aura was—
Conqueror's Haki.
Yes.
Ryukawa released it.
To clear the field.
To erase the weaklings who could interfere.
And as Conqueror's Haki expanded—
Lucci witnessed a scene he would never forget for the rest of his life.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The black-suited elites—rifles still in their hands—rolled their eyes back.
Foam bubbled at their mouths.
Their bodies tilted and collapsed one after another.
Like puppets whose strings had been cut.
In an instant—
All three hundred marksmen dropped.
Not one exception.
Silence.
The air turned deathly heavy.
The floor was littered with rifles sliding from limp hands, scattering across the hall.
A single glance—
and everyone was down.
It was absurd.
It was nightmare fuel.
"This… this… what the hell…?"
Morks was frozen.
His eyes bulged as he looked around in horror.
Everywhere—
were unconscious bodies.
No survivors.
Not one.
Impossible.
What kind of technique could wipe out three hundred elite agents in an instant?
This wasn't normal.
This wasn't real.
Morks tried to speak—
But a wave of pressure slammed into his brain.
His mind went blank.
His body lost strength.
He toppled sideways.
Thud.
Morks hit the floor, unconscious.
Only one person remained standing in the center of the hall—
Lucci.
His face twisted in shock.
Even with his hardened temperament, the scene in front of him was enough to rattle his soul.
What kind of sorcery was this?!
Everyone… dropped in a single moment?
Why?
How?
Lucci couldn't even begin to process it.
His eyes, cold and alarmed, locked onto Ryukawa.
"What did you do?"
For the first time—
Lucci felt it.
The boy in front of him was terrifying.
Not weak.
Not small.
This method was eerie, like something out of legend.
Ryukawa shrugged slightly, almost amused.
"Didn't I just tell you?"
"I'm just letting them sleep for a while."
"Making things quiet."
Lucci's throat went dry.
"You call that… letting them sleep?"
His mind churned violently.
Then a thought—dark and sharp—cut through.
This pressure…
This overwhelming intimidation…
It matched the legends perfectly.
"Oppressive aura…"
"Crushing their consciousness with sheer will…"
"This is exactly…"
"Conqueror's Haki."
Meaning—
This boy…
No.
He couldn't.
Lucci's head snapped in denial.
Impossible.
Conqueror's Haki was the kingly disposition that appeared once in a million.
How could an East Blue brat have it?!
How could a nobody from the weakest sea carry that kind of potential?!
For a moment, Lucci wondered if he was hallucinating.
But the bodies on the floor weren't an illusion.
Reality didn't care what he believed.
After forcing himself to breathe, Lucci lifted his head.
He suppressed the storm inside him—barely.
His eyes were bloodshot now, heavy with seriousness.
"Who…"
"Who the hell are you?"
He could feel it.
Things had already gone far beyond his control.
His mindset had flipped completely.
Before, he'd believed victory was guaranteed.
That this was just crushing an East Blue upstart.
But now—
Lucci finally began to understand.
The thing he was facing…
wasn't an "upstart."
It was a terrifying existence—
a boy who could wield Conqueror's Haki.
That was Conqueror's.
The one-in-a-million king's will.
A person who possessed it was never truly "unknown."
Not for long.
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