Rumble—!!
The entire building shook violently, sending tremors rolling through its frame.
Chunks of shattered stone fell from high above, smashing into the ground with harsh, screeching impacts. The street buckled under repeated blows—crushed, caved in, then split open into jagged cracks that looked like gaping wounds.
Out on the street, the hidden onlookers stared straight ahead, faces pale with shock.
Their eyes slid past the carpet of unconscious CP elites on the ground and locked onto the towering building itself—unable to look away.
Their expressions shifted between confusion and dread.
"D-did you hear that?!"
"That sound just now… it was terrifying!"
"Like thunder—no, louder than thunder!"
"It hit my ears and felt like the sky was collapsing!"
"And I don't even know why, but standing here makes me feel… uneasy."
Panicked murmurs rippled through the crowd.
At some point, everything happening here started feeling wrong—unnatural.
First, over two thousand armed elites had collapsed at the same time, foaming at the mouth.
Then came that earth-shaking roar, deafening enough to rattle the bones.
It sounded like a massive earthquake.
The building shook—
and even the streets around it were affected.
You could see it clearly: cracks were spreading across the road in thin, branching lines, like a spiderweb crawling outward.
"What the hell is happening here?!"
"Or rather…"
"What are they doing in there? Why do I have such a bad feeling?"
"If I'm not mistaken, those two thousand men didn't just drop for no reason."
"Something unbelievable must be happening inside."
People threw out guesses, but no one dared approach.
Curiosity had limits.
And instinct was screaming at them: whatever was inside that building wasn't something ordinary people should get close to.
"I don't know what it is, but if it can cause that kind of noise…"
"It has to be something terrifying."
"Hey—did someone notify the Marines stationed in Loguetown?"
"Something this big happens and they still haven't shown up?"
Someone asked urgently.
"They've already gone to report it. The Marines should send people soon."
"But if we don't get an explanation…"
"Then Loguetown isn't safe anymore."
"Exactly. One weird thing after another—how can anyone stay calm?"
The chatter grew heavier.
Fear piled on fear.
At the opposite end of Loguetown—
Inside the Marine base.
The spacious headquarters buzzed with activity. Young men and women in Marine uniforms moved between desks, handling reports and paperwork in a constant rush.
A knock sounded at the office door.
Inside, Smoker sat with a cigar clenched at the corner of his mouth, legs crossed atop a wooden desk. His face was still youthful—barely in his twenties—but the arrogance in his eyes was sharp and heavy.
Though young, he wasn't some nobody.
He was from Marine HQ—trained under Zephyr's system—his performance exceptional enough that he didn't have to climb from the very bottom.
That was why the Headquarters had assigned him directly to Loguetown, placing him in charge of the local branch.
Loguetown wasn't just any town.
It was the gateway to the Grand Line—
and the place where the Pirate King had been born and executed.
A choke point.
An important post.
And since arriving, Smoker had personally captured plenty of pirates, piling up achievements and building his authority. The Marines under him admired him, even worshiped him.
"Come in," Smoker said around his cigar.
Creaaak.
The door opened.
A Marine lieutenant stepped in, posture straight, eyes respectful—but his tone carried urgency.
"Lieutenant Colonel Smoker—there's been what looks like an explosion incident on the east side of the town."
"The sound was like thunder. Extremely loud. Residents near that area all heard it clearly."
"And also—"
"The ground in that region has cracked due to some kind of external impact."
"It's likely shockwaves from the blast caused the ground to fail."
"Many residents have reported it already, requesting that we investigate immediately…"
Smoker's eyes narrowed as he organized the information.
"So, in summary—east side of town."
"Possibly a fight."
"And possibly involving Devil Fruit users."
"Yes, sir," the lieutenant answered after a brief pause.
Smoker stood.
He tossed a coat over his shoulders, cigar still in his mouth as he exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.
"Gather two hundred elite Marines."
"Come with me to the east side."
"Yes, Lieutenant Colonel."
Smoker picked up his personal seastone weapon and strode out.
Not long after—
in front of the Marine base—
"Move out!"
Smoker revved a motorcycle, cigar clenched, with two hundred elite Marines marching behind him as they headed toward Loguetown's east district.
In his mind, this was simple.
Probably pirates fighting.
At worst, Devil Fruit users clashing.
Smoker had no idea yet—
how big this incident truly was.
How wide its impact spread.
And what kind of terrifying existence it involved.
Back inside the ruined building—
Rumble—!!
A section of wall collapsed into fragments, dropping from several meters up and piling into a mound like a small hill. Dust roared into the air, rolling and choking the room.
The floor was split open with jagged cracks, like the aftermath of an earthquake—so deep it looked like the ground might cave in at any moment.
The lobby was a wreck.
Full of holes.
A battlefield in ruins.
Too brutal.
Too broken.
As if an unimaginable force had scraped its claws across everything in sight.
And the scariest part—
this devastation had been caused by a single slash.
More striking still…
a deep fissure—nearly a meter wide—had cut through the area, stretching over a hundred meters, slicing into the far wall and punching clean through it.
Every detail made the scalp numb.
Some of the CP agents who'd been unconscious earlier hadn't even survived the shockwaves—torn apart on the spot.
Bloodstains marked the cracked floor.
A faint metallic stench lingered in the air.
And in the middle of all that ruin—
Ryukawa stood holding a wooden sword, completely untouched.
Not a speck of dust on him.
Not a tear in his clothes.
He looked almost unreal against the devastation, like a figure dropped into the wrong world.
"CP9's strongest in eight hundred years… not much, huh."
"I didn't even take that slash seriously."
"Looks like I underestimated my own strength."
Ryukawa smiled faintly as he watched the rubble pile ahead.
Then—
Rumble—
A few stones slid off the top.
A hand shot out from beneath the debris.
Pale. Bloodless. Streaked with crimson, smeared like something that had clawed its way out of hell.
The hand grabbed a rock and forced it aside.
A second hand followed.
And slowly—
a head emerged.
Lucci wasn't dead.
Yes.
He had taken Ryukawa's world-splitting slash head-on…
and survived.
That alone proved Lucci wasn't ordinary.
But surviving didn't mean he was fine.
He was finished.
This was a man on the edge of death, alive only by stubbornness and sheer luck.
"Cough—cough!"
Lucci dragged himself out of the rubble, vomiting blood. His face was paper-white, drained of color until it looked like he'd been scrubbed clean of life.
Ryukawa looked at him, almost approving.
"Still alive? Then you really are something."
"I did underestimate you a bit."
Lucci's body was a nightmare.
Cuts and gashes everywhere.
And the worst of it—
his chest had been cleaved open by a savage wound so deep you could see bone.
Even deeper—
you could see hints of his insides.
His body had practically been torn through.
For someone to be breathing after that…
was terrifying Stamina.
Blood poured down from countless wounds, soaking him until he looked like a walking corpse painted red. It dripped onto the cracked tiles beneath his feet, spreading in dark pools.
Arms. Legs. Chest. Face. Head.
Almost nowhere on him was intact.
Ryukawa's slash had been too monstrous.
And Lucci had taken it with his body.
The fact he wasn't already dead was nothing but miracle-level luck.
Lucci opened his mouth.
Spit—
More blood spilled out.
His eyes were cloudy, but they still stared at Ryukawa like a dying beast refusing to kneel.
"I never… in my dreams…"
"would I think…"
"that one day…"
"I'd be… one-shot."
"One move."
"One move… and I lost completely."
Yes.
To Lucci, this battle was nothing more than being erased in a single stroke.
From start to finish, he'd never had the qualifications to fight on equal ground.
"Too strong…"
"This monster…"
"is too strong…"
Lucci could say it with absolute certainty:
Ryukawa was the strongest enemy he'd ever faced in his life.
He had never encountered anything like this.
Ryukawa's strength didn't feel like something that could be "overcome."
It felt like something you could only endure… if you were lucky.
For the first time in his life—
Lucci tasted true helplessness.
This monster didn't just wield all three colors of Haki—
his swordsmanship was terrifyingly high.
So why?
Why would a monster like that appear in East Blue?
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