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Luffy stood motionless for a heartbeat, the chaos of the shattered dock swirling around him like a storm. He reached up slowly, almost reverently, and hooked his straw hat onto his back. The shift was instantaneous—gone was the boyish grin, the carefree spark in his eyes. In its place burned a fierce, unyielding focus, as if the weight of Russell's command had forged him into something primal, unstoppable. Full strength, the order echoed in his core. No holding back.
He bit down hard on his thumb, the sharp crack of teeth meeting flesh cutting through the tense air.
Across the splintered ruins, Moore watched with a twisted smirk, his lieutenants shifting uneasily behind him. The demon lord's voice dripped with mockery, echoing over the waves lapping at the broken pier. "What's this, little boy? Scared already? Gotta suck your thumb like a babe to muster some guts?"
No words came in reply. Instead, the world seemed to warp. Luffy's right arm ballooned, veins pulsing as it swelled to grotesque proportions—muscles inflating like a balloon ready to burst, until his fist loomed as massive as a house, casting a shadow that swallowed the dock in darkness. The air hummed with raw power, the ground trembling faintly under the strain.
"Gum-Gum... GIANT PISTOL!"
The words thundered out, and the fist rocketed forward with a whoosh that split the wind like a hurricane. Moore's smug grin shattered into wide-eyed horror, his demonic instincts screaming warnings too late. This wasn't some parlor trick—it was cataclysmic force, the kind that evoked nightmares of the Seven Warlords' monstrous underlings, beings who'd crushed empires underfoot.
"How—how is this even possible!?" Moore's bellow ripped across the dock, laced with disbelief and rising panic. "It's a illusion! A damn trick!" He lunged desperately, his white blade flashing in a frantic arc, slicing into the oncoming fist. The metal bit shallowly, drawing a thin line of what looked like rubbery flesh, but it was futile—a pinprick against a tidal wave.
Impact.
BOOM!
The collision erupted like a bomb, shockwaves blasting outward in a gale of dust and salt spray. Moore hurtled backward like a ragdoll fired from a cannon, smashing through his own ranks in a brutal chain reaction. Pirates scattered like bowling pins, bodies crumpling and flying, bones snapping audibly over the roar. He finally slammed into the earth, carving a deep furrow in the dirt, splintered wood and debris raining down in a hazy cloud.
"Boss Moore!" The cries from his men were shrill, laced with terror, as they scrambled to regroup amid the wreckage.
But Luffy was relentless, a force of nature unchained. He vaulted skyward, his massive fist deflating with a hiss as the energy shifted. Now his right foot ballooned, transforming into a colossal axe-head that gleamed menacingly in the sunlight, veins throbbing like rivers of power.
The pirates below froze, breaths caught in their throats. Caleb and Leo exchanged wide-eyed glances, their earlier grief twisting into awe-struck disbelief. Wyatt, ever the analyst, felt his heart pound—This kid's card... it's rewriting the rules.
"Gum-Gum... GIANT TOMAHAWK!"
Luffy plummeted like a meteor, his foot cleaving the air with a deafening tear. The descent built like thunder, the wind whipping up debris and sending waves crashing harder against the shore.
CRACK!
The axe-kick hammered down, fracturing the pier in a seismic quake that shook the entire island. Cracks spiderwebbed through the ground, wood exploding upward in jagged shards. Pirates on the far side didn't even scream—they just dropped, knees buckling under the sheer terror, their wills shattered by the apocalyptic display. The other crew captains, once loyal to Moore's iron rule, stood drenched in cold sweat, faces pale as ghosts. Their god-like leader, the unbreakable Moore, was being pummeled like a stray mutt, helpless and broken. Whispers rippled through them: Is this the end? How do we fight a monster like that?
In a fair fight, with time to prepare, Moore might have held his ground—summoned his full demonic arsenal, turned the tide with cunning and brute force. But fate had pitted him against Luffy, and that changed everything.
[Emperor's Recognition]: Luffy's potential has been acknowledged by an Emperor of the Sea... When facing any pirate-type demon, Luffy will be fully strengthened.
Wyatt's eyes narrowed to slits, his mind racing as he dissected the scene. "This power," he whispered, voice barely audible over the settling dust. "It's scraping the edges of silver-level territory—raw, unrefined, but damn close to an ordinary silver card's output." A mix of professional envy and relief flickered through him; the Association's prodigy was living up to the hype.
Beside him, Caleb and Leo gaped, jaws slack. They'd witnessed Luffy's flair at the Prodigy Cup, sure, but that was child's play compared to this. No wonder Russell charged in like a storm, Caleb thought, his grief momentarily eclipsed by wonder. We figured he was leaning on Wyatt for the kill. Gods, we were blind.
Luffy touched down lightly beside Russell, the air still vibrating from his onslaught. Russell closed his eyes briefly, sensing the card's dwindling energy through their bond—a faint, flickering pulse. Gear Third's a beast, he mused inwardly, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. But two hits, and he's already fading. One more strike, tops. It was a brutal tradeoff, but fair: a bronze-level card unleashing silver-tier devastation? The cost had to bite deep.
From the smoke-choked crater, a ragged cough hacked through the haze—wet, labored, defiant.
Russell's brow furrowed, a spark of irritation cutting through his calm. "Still breathing? Tough bastard."
The dust swirled away on the breeze, revealing Moore's wreckage of a form. His longsword lay in shattered pieces, glinting uselessly. His body was a mangled ruin—skin torn and blackened, bones jutting at wrong angles, blood pooling beneath him in a dark stain. Yet a stubborn spark of life clung on, eyes glazing but defiant.
"So... powerful," Moore rasped, voice a broken wheeze, words slurring through bloodied lips. "Never thought... I'd face something like this... in this forsaken place." He coughed, a wet rattle, forcing a twisted laugh. "You weren't this monster last time... How? Death of your precious ones... push you over the edge? Force that growth?" Another hacking chuckle dissolved into spasms. "Hahahaha... cough... damn it all..."
Russell leaned in slightly, ears straining for any scrap of useful intel—some hint at the Black Flag's deeper plans, a weakness in their ranks. But it was just delirium, the ravings of a man teetering on oblivion.
"End it, Luffy," Russell said, voice steady as steel.
Luffy nodded once, biting down again. His arms inflated in tandem this time, swelling to twin behemoths that blotted out the sun, shadows stretching long over the crater.
"Gum-Gum... GIANT BAZOOKA!"
The fists descended like judgment from the heavens, the air compressing with a low, ominous rumble. Moore's fading eyes widened one last time, consciousness slipping into the void. But in that final instant, a whisper slithered into his mind—not his own, alien and cold, laced with malicious glee.
"I just want to see the miserable look on your face as you die at the hands of the king."
The voice was faint, ethereal, brushing Russell's senses like a chill wind. His eyes snapped wide, scanning the shadows. "Did anyone hear that? Just now?"
Wyatt frowned, shaking his head, while Caleb and Leo exchanged puzzled looks. "Nothing," Wyatt muttered. "You alright?"
"King...?" Russell echoed inwardly, shaking off the unease. Must be the adrenaline playing tricks. Focus.
Luffy's fists connected in a final, earth-shaking BOOM, pulverizing the crater into oblivion. Moore's form vanished in the upheaval, and with the deed done, Luffy's body shimmered, dissolving into wisps of energy as the card hit cooldown, retreating to recover.
Wyatt exhaled sharply, wiping sweat from his brow. "Power like that always has a hook. Good thing—otherwise, I'd be questioning if you're the silver-level here, kid." A wry smile tugged at his lips, masking the awe.
With Luffy gone, the surviving pirate leaders sensed blood in the water. Eyes met in silent accord, murderous fire reigniting. They charged with their ragged remnants, weapons raised in a desperate, howling wave—blades glinting, demonic auras flaring as they swarmed the dock.
Wyatt's gaze turned glacial, a predator's calm settling over him. "Idiots. You think I'm just scenery?" He'd been sidelined by the spectacle, true, but he was silver-level through and through—a force these fools couldn't fathom.
This works, he thought, cold efficiency sharpening his focus. Saves the chase.
His cards materialized in a blur—ethereal wraiths weaving through the fray like shadows given fangs. They struck with lethal precision, reaping souls in swift, merciless strokes. Pirate leaders fell in single, devastating blows, bodies crumpling before they could scream. The power chasm was a chasm, unbridgeable; morale shattered like glass, the remnants hurling weapons aside and bolting for the treeline, vanishing into the island's wilds like ghosts.
Wyatt watched them flee with detached indifference. Leaders gone, they were harmless stragglers—no threat to the realm now.
Russell observed the cleanup, a quiet sigh escaping him. Still worlds apart from a true silver-level, he reflected, the gap stinging like a fresh wound. But resolve surged hot in his veins. With my pace? Silver's within reach. Soon.
"Russell... thank you. From the depths of my soul."
The voice cracked with emotion, pulling him back. Caleb knelt before him, tears streaming down his weathered face, body trembling with the weight of it all.
Russell blinked, flustered—unaccustomed to such raw vulnerability. He hurried to haul Caleb up. "Hey, get up. What's this about?"
Caleb rose, swiping at his eyes, words tumbling in a choked rush. "I knew revenge was a pipe dream on my own... too weak, too broken. But you... you made it real. I never dreamed... just... thank you, Russell. I've got nothing to give but my loyalty. My life. Anything you need, ever—I'm your man."
Russell stood speechless for a beat, the offer touching but impractical. If I can't handle it, what chance does he have? Still, he wouldn't crush the sincerity. "Of course, Caleb. I've got your back too."
In that moment, Caleb extended his hands, revealing a glowing artifact. "This condensed from that demon's corpse."
It was the material from Moore's demise: Bronze-rank [Elite Pirate Swordsman] (Gold).
(End of this chapter)
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