Lance flicked his cigarette to the ground, stepped on the butt, and began walking toward the chaotic battlefield.
"Shorty, go to hell!"
A sneering gladiator tried to circle behind Lance and swung a sword down toward his head.
He was already picturing Lance's skull splitting in two, blood and brain matter flying everywhere.
But without even looking back, Lance tilted his head slightly, and the blade whooshed past less than ten centimeters from his face, striking the ground uselessly.
In the same motion, Lance spun and swept his leg back, launching the ambusher into the air—straight into the moat, where he met the same fate as the others: devoured by a fighting fish.
"Smooth move. Let's see how you handle this one!"
"I've had enough of looking at you! A shrimp like you wants to compete for the 100 million Berries prize? Die already!"
"Let me take that head of yours!"
Suddenly, several contestants rushed Lance from all directions, weapons raised.
Lance had stepped into the heart of the chaos. In the arena, anyone could become a target. If you were unlucky enough to be surrounded, that was just too bad.
Clearly, Lance was now "unlucky."
"If you're all in such a hurry to die, I won't mind granting your wish."
With a flick of his foot, a large blade spun up from the ground into his hand. Lance caught it casually and slashed.
Shunk!
In an instant, one contestant's throat opened, blood spraying.
He didn't even blink. His blade danced again and again. In just a few breaths, every attacker who had rushed him lay dead or dying on the ground.
"That's it? With such pathetic strength and skills, you dared to covet 100 million Berries? Greed really does blind fools."
Lance's voice was cold.
After the slaughter in the outlaw zone by Kuro and Kuro-Ni, Lance's power had nearly doubled.
That district had been crawling with skilled fighters from surrounding seas. By killing and devouring them, Lance had absorbed not just their strength, but their sword techniques, archery, combat skills… everything.
These small fry in the colosseum didn't even qualify as warm-ups anymore.
"Look! A striking figure has emerged!"
"The Masked Ghost is tearing through the crowd like a wolf in a sheep pen! A total massacre!"
"No one can take even a single blow! The Masked Ghost is terrifying!"
The host's high-pitched voice echoed throughout the colosseum, riling the crowd into a frenzy.
Spectators began shouting "Masked Ghost! Masked Ghost!" in unison.
Just then, Lance snapped the blade in his hands clean in two.
He grabbed one half and hurled it in a sharp arc.
Shunk!
The piece of broken blade pierced directly into the announcer's chest, silencing him mid-sentence.
"Noisy."
Lance muttered coldly, picking up another weapon and returning to his work.
"The announcer's dead!"
"Masked Ghost is so badass! I'm supporting him from now on! I love you, Masked Ghost!"
"Incredible! He took out the armored host from that far away with a casual throw! He's got insane strength! Masked Ghost is going to be the next Kyros! Long live Masked Ghost!"
Rather than fear, the crowd erupted into even louder cheers at the spectacle. The dead host only fueled their bloodlust.
"You soulless cattle."
Lance's voice was sharp and bitter.
"This bastard dares to kill even my announcer?!"
Diamante sprang to his feet in a fury.
The colosseum was his territory. If someone could just walk in and kill one of his people, what would that say about his authority?
If he let this slide, everyone would think they could walk over him.
"Whoa!! They're all dead! Every last one—except for the Masked Ghost!"
"He's incredible! A true warrior—no one can stand against him!"
"He's the next Kyros for sure! I know it!"
Meanwhile, Lance had effortlessly wiped out every last contestant on the battlefield.
All those men who had just moments ago been shouting about the 100 million Berries reward—now they were cold corpses on the arena floor, slain by Lance's blade.
"Hmm? This guy's stronger than I expected…"
Diamante was surprised. Other than Lance, no one was left alive.
"With this damn man-eating monster stirring up fear all over Dressrosa, maybe I can recruit this guy. He might actually be useful."
Setting aside his anger, Diamante came up with a new plan.
"Excellent! Our arena has a winner today—the Masked Ghost!"
"Let's cheer for the Masked Ghost's victory!"
Diamante grabbed the mic and made the announcement.
"Masked Ghost!"
"Masked Ghost!"
"Masked Ghost!"
The entire colosseum roared.
But Lance showed no sign of excitement. Calmly, he pulled out another cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag.
"It's time."
"Kuro, Kuro-Ni. Move."
He exhaled a smoke ring, voice cool as ice.
Diamante didn't notice that behind him—on both sides—two humanoid shadows of darkness had quietly appeared, awaiting orders.
At Lance's words, Kuro and Kuro-Ni each grabbed one of Diamante's arms. In the next second, they kicked off the ground with explosive force, dragging Diamante's entire body across the moat and onto the center of the arena.
He landed kneeling in front of Lance.
"Wh-What the hell just happened?!"
Everything had happened so fast, Diamante didn't even realize what was going on until he was already on the battlefield.
"Huh? What's going on with Lord Diamante?"
"Why is he kneeling in front of the Masked Ghost? What just happened?!"
The spectators were confused and murmuring.
"Diamante… do you remember me?"
Lance reached up and removed his ghost mask.
(End of Chapter)
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