The first item was a stone slab—its weathered surface etched with what looked like an ancient map.
The second was a palm-sized metal sphere, faintly trembling with the same strange energy fluctuation he had sensed moments earlier.
"There's an even stronger power sealed inside this thing," he murmured, brow furrowing.
"But it seems some mechanism is preventing it from being activated."
As Ryoma examined the two objects in his hands, the sound of nine sharp gusts slicing through the air reached him one after another.
"Put down what you're holding!"
Seeing the signpost slab and the unknown ancient weapon, Garp exploded toward him like a cannonball.
Rocks and Roger also fixed their eyes on the treasures, greed flickering unmistakably in their gazes. Moments ago they had been fighting to the death, and now—some unknown brat wanted to swoop in like a fisherman profiting off their misery?
Two dark figures thundered down beside Roger: Silvers Rayleigh and Scopper Gaban.
"We witnessed his fight with Whitebeard just now…" Rayleigh spoke quickly and crisply, Gaban nodding beside him.
"This guy is dangerous. You need to be cautious."
"You don't have to tell me."
Roger exhaled deeply.
He had clashed with Rocks from afar. With Observation Haki, he sensed many things, but lacked the details of what had truly taken place.
From Rayleigh and Gaban, he finally understood: the mysterious man had defeated Whitebeard in just two moves.
"That level of power… it's terrifying."
Roger wasn't arrogant. His strength wasn't far from Whitebeard's; in a direct fight it would be sixty–forty at best.
If Ryoma could crush Whitebeard effortlessly, then the result of a one-on-one was obvious.
"I never thought that before Rocks was even dealt with, another monster would crawl out of nowhere—and he's so damn young."
At that moment, two figures landed beside Garp.
A tall woman with a tight ponytail and sword in hand—Vice Admiral Tsuru.
And a towering man with short purple hair and sunglasses—Black Arm Zephyr.
They too had silently observed Ryoma's earlier battle.
"Tsuru, Zephyr… no matter what, we cannot allow that man to take the slate or the ancient weapon," Garp said solemnly.
He had already heard their report—and now understood fully why Ryoma's presence was setting off alarm bells.
Across the battlefield, a blond maned lion of a pirate—Shiki—and the massive figure of Big Mom stared greedily at the stone slab and metal sphere.
Neither was a fool. Even with limited information, the tension in Garp and the others' reactions was enough to tell them the truth: these items were extraordinary.
And if Rocks had come to God Valley for anything, it was likely these very artifacts.
That was reason enough. With two treasures in play, even snatching one in the chaos would be worth it.
"Things are becoming increasingly troublesome…" Rocks growled.
He moved first.
Ryoma stood unbothered, calm as still water.
Rocks unleashed his overwhelming Haki. His conqueror's aura crashed outward like a roaring tidal wave, suppressing all life in its path. Roger and Garp both stiffened under the pressure.
"Boy…"
Rocks' voice was colder than the Arctic deep.
"Put those two items down. Now."
Ryoma ignored him completely.
He merely glanced in Rocks' direction—lightly, dismissively.
And Rocks' intense wave of Conqueror's Haki washed over him like nothing more than a warm spring breeze.
They didn't need to speak.
The moment Ryoma glanced around, he realized everyone had already moved into position, surrounding him in silent, seamless coordination.
After witnessing Ryoma's overwhelming combat power, they had all reached an unspoken agreement:
eliminate the greatest threat first—then deal with each other.
"Are you trying to stop me?"
No one answered.
But the tightening grips on weapons, the surging Haki, and the ability users readying their powers made their intentions unmistakable.
"Good… very good."
Ryoma calmly stored away the Poneglyph slab and the ancient weapon.
"If you want to keep me here, then you'd better be sure you have the strength to do it."
The next instant—
A crushing, suffocating pressure exploded outward from his body.
Everyone staggered.
Breathing became difficult—as if Mt. Tai itself had been dropped on their chests.
Rocks, Roger, and Garp each took a half-step back, expressions turning grim.
The Golden Lion, Big Mom, and the others shivered instinctively, their bodies reacting like prey cornered by a predator far beyond their understanding.
This pressure alone vastly overshadowed Rocks' earlier Conqueror's Haki.
"He doesn't even feel like he's using Haki," Roger muttered, biting the tip of his tongue to force his rigid muscles into motion, "but his momentum… it's countless times stronger than Rocks'."
Beside him, Rayleigh and Gaban trembled violently, like rabbits under a lion's paw.
Outside the top three—Rocks, Roger, and Garp—everyone else was faring just as badly.
It was now obvious:
Ryoma hadn't even shown half his strength when he humiliated Whitebeard.
Rocks' grip tightened around his massive blade, eyes turning vicious.
Fear? Him? Never.
He had already set his sights on becoming King of the World.
Retreat was no longer an option.
He stepped forward—
But before he could even raise his weapon, Ryoma was already there.
A blur.
A fist.
A shockwave.
Rocks barely managed to pull his blade up in front of him—
"BOOM!!"
From high above, the destruction was clear:
Rocks was blasted backward like a meteor, carving a trench through the ruins that stretched more than a kilometer, dust erupting in violent plumes.
Ryoma raised his fist slightly, surprised.
The sensation wasn't quite what he expected.
Rocks had reacted faster than anticipated.
"He'll be back soon."
Before clashing with Rocks, Ryoma had already entered Sage Mode—Immortal Mode.
His physical strength was already on par with the strongest in this world, and with Sage enhancement, his speed, power, Chakra reserves, range, and perception had all skyrocketed.
In pure hand-to-hand combat, he completely outclassed every fighter present.
After knocking Rocks away, Ryoma's gaze drifted toward Roger and Garp.
From their earlier exchange, he had already identified them as the two strongest besides Rocks.
Before Rocks returned, eliminating them first was the cleanest solution.
Sensing Ryoma's killing intent lock onto them, Roger and Garp reacted instantly.
Their muscles tensed.
Haki burst outward.
Neither man was the type to sit and await death.
If Ryoma was coming for them, then they would strike first.
And despite standing on opposite sides, both believed the same thing:
If they survived this opening exchange, Rocks would return, and together they could overwhelm Ryoma.
"RAHH!!"
Garp roared.
His entire being surged into his arms.
Armament Haki flooded his fists, turning them the color of pitch-black iron.
These fists had crushed countless pirates, shattered pirate fortresses, and sunk ships like paper.
And now—
His fighting spirit soared to new heights.
In the face of Ryoma's oppressive presence, Garp's Haki broke into a new realm—burning fiercer than ever.
Ryoma noted the change.
A faint glimmer of appreciation flashed in his eyes.
Then he met Garp's charge head-on—with a single, devastating punch.
The very next moment, Ryoma's left fist met Garp's double-fisted punch head-on.
There was no stalemate.
No contest.
No back-and-forth clash of equals.
Garp might as well have been a grasshopper trying to shake a mountain.
Ryoma's power crushed straight through his guard.
"BOOM!!"
A deafening white shockwave erupted on impact, swallowing Garp whole.
The blast tore up the ground, scattering debris and dust in every direction like a stormfront.
When the violent airflow finally dispersed…
Garp was left kneeling, one knee driven into the shattered earth, blood flowing from his nose, ears, and eyes—seven orifices bleeding.
His fists still trembled in front of him, as if his body refused to accept the reality of what had just overwhelmed him.
...
TN:
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