The walls shuddered under the force of the impact, dust drifting down from the ceiling in long, gray threads.
Half of Louay's body was buried in the stone wall, blood trickling down his face from a deep gash on his forehead, eyes shut as if unconscious.
Heavy footsteps pounded the ground—each one like the heartbeat of a war drum. Doom… doom… doom…
The massive soldier approached, his bulk blocking the torchlight from reaching Louay's face. A thin smile spread across his cracked lips, radiating arrogance and the thrill of dominance.
Slowly, his right hand slid to his waist, drawing a heavy steel sword that glimmered faintly, like a muted bolt of lightning, beneath the dim light.
He stopped before Louay, raised the blade high above his head, and let his deep, booming voice echo through the space.
"Die… you insolent brat!"
The sword came crashing down toward Louay's head with full force—
But before the steel could descend, the soldier's smile froze. Shock replaced it in an instant.
Louay's left hand, wrapped in a dark layer of haki, had caught the blade mid-strike, halting it without letting it advance a single inch.
Slowly, Louay lifted his head, eyes opening like twin windows into a bottomless abyss.
He exhaled a long breath and, in a voice low yet heavier than iron, said:
"It seems this world… has made me forget myself."
The soldier felt something unseen clutching at his very soul, pulling it deep into Louay's gaze.
His breathing quickened. He muttered to himself in confusion:
"What… what's with this boy's eyes…?"
He tried to yank his sword free, but the blade began to crack between Louay's fingers—until it shattered completely, scattering metallic fragments across the ground.
The giant soldier staggered back two steps, his breath uneven, eyes fixed on the broken weapon.
"How… is this possible?!"
Louay stepped out from the hole in the wall, standing firmly.
He reached for the two bags slung over his shoulders, dropped them quietly to the ground, and tossed aside the broken shard of steel.
His features were still, his blood-streaked face betraying no emotion as he said in a cold, flat tone:
"You know… you're the first person to ever hurt me in my life."
He began to advance in slow, deliberate steps, brushing his hair away from his eyes—each footfall making the soldier's breath grow more ragged.
Panicked, the giant gritted his teeth, burying his fear beneath a roar. He lunged at Louay, swinging what remained of his blade toward his neck.
"Haahhh! Go to hell!!"
Louay clenched his right fist until his knuckles cracked beneath the dense layer of haki—
And then… his hand vanished from sight for the briefest moment before reappearing in a blur.
The collision was no mere punch—
It was a muted explosion, centered in the soldier's chest, followed by sharp, black ripples tearing through the air, ripping away the stability of everything around them.
The giant's right chest burst apart from within, his right arm severed entirely, spinning in the air before crashing to the ground and dragging a bloodied line across the cold floor.
The aura that had surrounded his body shattered into jagged black fissures, fading into nothing.
Time itself seemed to slow… the droplets of blood hanging in the air fell almost lazily.
The soldier raised his trembling left hand to seal the wound—
But found only empty space and the scalding warmth of his own blood pooling in his palm.
He stared at the crimson covering his hand, then looked up at Louay, mouth opening to speak—
But the rush of blood drowned his words forever.
Louay watched his fall with unblinking eyes.
"But… you should be honored… you're the first to ever wound me."
When the giant's body hit the ground, silence roared back into the room—this time, a silence steeped in fear.
The massive corpse struck the floor with a thud that rattled the ground, sending dust swirling outward.
The quiet didn't last long.
Doom!
The stone wall behind the fallen soldier shook, a deep, clean-edged hole bursting through it as if pierced by something at unimaginable speed.
Dust streamed from its edges, pebbles rolling across the tiles in muffled clinks.
Louay stepped forward slowly, eyes narrowing as if reading something unwritten.
He extended his right hand, flexing his fingers slowly into a fist and then loosening them again.
In a quiet murmur meant only for himself:
"This… wasn't just a punch."
His gaze returned to the hole, a faint smile creeping across his lips.
"If I compress all my haki into my arm… then release it at maximum speed… the shock alone can tear through the air… and send my power across distance."
He paused, analyzing the thought as it unfolded in his mind, before adding in a deeper tone:
"True strength… isn't in touching your enemy—it's in reaching them when they think they're untouchable. To shatter their safety from where they believe they're safe."
A faint, almost amused smile curved his lips.
"This strike… I'll call it the Deadly Thrust."
He stared at his fist for a moment longer before closing his eyes, speaking slowly:
"The world… is nothing more than a wall of soft stone. All it takes is the right strike in the right place. But most people spend their lives swinging at the air, never realizing they were one blow away from breaking through."
He turned his head toward the fallen soldier, his voice dropping to a near whisper:
"All I needed… was something to wake me up. You… were that thing."
Taking a deep breath, Louay smiled faintly—tinged with both mockery and certainty.
"Now I'm finding myself again… another step into a road with no return."
"Hey! Who's there?!"
"What's that noise?!"
The shouts of soldiers echoed down the stone corridor, their approaching steps like war drums.
Before they arrived, Louay crouched, grabbed the white and blue bags without hesitation, and moved in the opposite direction.
He passed by the half-shattered wall where he'd been lodged moments earlier.
Stopping, he wrapped his fist in haki and drove it into the stone.
Boom!
The wall exploded, shards scattering in every direction.
Louay smirked lightly.
"Didn't mean to do that much."
Beyond the wall lay a wide training hall, its floor laid with dark wood, sturdy pillars lining each side.
Scanning the room, his eyes fell upon an iron cabinet in the corner. He strode over, opened it, and found shelves lined with arm restraints chained with thick links.
Above the first shelf was a small sign:
Standard Restraints.
His eyes shifted to the second shelf—its sign reading:
Seastone Restraints.
A cold smile touched his lips.
He reached for a pair of the seastone cuffs and muttered under his breath:
"This is what I wanted."
He took two pairs, placing them in the white bag and securing it tightly—only for the soldiers' shouts to draw nearer.
"There are two men down!"
"They're dead! Who killed them?!"
"Search here… he's still in the training room!"
"The wall's freshly broken!"
Without wasting a second, Louay hoisted both bags and made for the front door.
Just before exiting, a black steel pistol mounted on the wall caught his eye. He snatched it without thinking and pushed the door open—
Only to find himself face-to-face with a squad of Marines, every rifle aimed straight at him.
"There he is! The half-naked kid!"
Louay froze, his gaze flicking rapidly between the gun barrels.
This is bad… if even one shot hits, I'm done.
"Drop the weapon!"
"Now!"
"Hands in the air!"
Louay sighed, speaking with feigned compliance.
"Yes, yes…"
He crouched slightly, lowering the pistol slowly—
Then, in a flash, hurled it forward, clamped his hands with haki, bit the pistol in his teeth, and slammed both fists into the ground.
DOOM!
The floor shattered like torn paper, and Louay dropped down amid the soldiers' startled cries.
During the fall, he grabbed one of them by the face, dragging him beneath his body to absorb the landing.
They crashed into the lower floor, where a wide doorway stood ajar.
Louay burst through it and emerged onto the deck, where Marines and cannons ringed the area.
Turning right, he sprinted until he spotted a small wooden rowboat tied to the ship's side, two oars resting inside.
He seized it, dragging it toward the edge—
But a shout rang out:
"There! The kid in underwear! Don't let him escape!"
Louay placed the bags and pistol inside the boat, then hurled it into the sea.
He stood for a moment, muttering to himself:
"If I go now… they'll follow too easily."
Turning back toward the Marines, he once again coated his hands in haki and slammed them down.
The wooden deck erupted beneath him, sending him crashing to the floor below—
Where a man bathing in a wooden tub gawked.
"Hey! Who are you?!" the man shouted.
Louay answered with nothing but a wry smile, then broke through the floor again, plunging into darkness.
This is it… the lower deck… the ship's heart.
He drew a deep breath and drove his fists downward, body like a spear tearing through the decks.
In seconds, he broke through the very bottom, plunging into the icy depths of the sea.
Below him, the massive vessel began to tilt, sinking toward its watery grave.
I need to move now… or I'll go down with it.
He swam upward, surfacing to spot the little rowboat.
Reaching it, he climbed in, the shouts of the Marines carrying faintly over the waves:
"The ship's sinking!"
"Bail the water—hurry!"
Settling into the boat, Louay exhaled and opened the white bag.
He retrieved his clothes, dressed calmly, and brushed his wet hair from his eyes.
From the blue bag, he took a water flask and a piece of meat.
Turning his gaze back to the sinking ship—half-swallowed by the sea—he bit into the meat, washing it down with a sip of water.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"To the drowned… where silence speaks truer than men."
He let the waves carry him, as if in the giant, unseen palm of the ocean. Saltwater dripped from his hair onto the wooden boards, the sound of waves against the boat a slow heartbeat.
Behind him, the Marine vessel listed further, its masts screaming under the water's weight, the sailors' cries dissolving into the sea's roar.
Louay's smile held neither joy nor regret as he spoke quietly, as if to the ocean itself:
"Luck… the lie we tell ourselves to escape the truth that chaos is the only law. Today, chaos decided I live."
His gaze drifted to the horizon, where blue bled into blue, and he wondered silently:
"Where will you take me, sea? To a forgotten island? A delayed death? Or a beginning I never knew I sought?"
With a long breath, he lay back in the boat, letting the current choose his path.
His last glance at the sinking ship was like bidding farewell to a corpse that would never remember him.
"The place I drowned them… may be the very place that saves me."
And so he let himself drift—knowing every wave could be a road… or an abyss.