Crack—
The tree trunk finally couldn't withstand the overwhelming force. With several sharp snaps, it shattered apart.
Ren let go with a hint of regret, then drew his Doran Sword and pointed it forward.
Wherever the blade aimed, the clustered Marines froze in place, fear flooding their expressions as they instinctively shrank back.
Ren coldly twisted his wrist, turning the blade downward.
"Get lost."
If this were any other Marine detachment,at least one officer would've stepped out, ignored Ren's warning, fired up morale, and shouted "For justice!" before charging.
But the Marines of the 16th Branch… well, they knew better.
After watching a third of their unit fall in just one minute, the remaining soldiers collectively stepped backward—as if the man before them wasn't a pirate, but a grim reaper claiming souls.
"What are you afraid of?! Are you still Marines or not? If we don't kill this bastard, how are we supposed to answer for this when we get back!?"
The squad captain roared furiously.
Suddenly, from somewhere within the formation, a voice answered:
"If you want to cling to Mondes's thigh so bad, why don't you use your own life to explain it!?"
"Who said that!?"
The captain's rage flared, but buried safely deep inside the group, he had no idea who spoke.
"It's your conscience!"
Ren burst into hearty laughter and—at the same time—drew the silver Desert Eagle.
A dark-red crosshair appeared, locking instantly onto the loudmouth officer.
BANG!
His head burst like a watermelon.
The now-headless corpse toppled, and the Marines recoiled with horrified screams.
For a month's salary, who the hell would risk their life!?If someone was going to die fighting here, it'd be the officers who got the promotions and bonuses—not the expendable grunts!
"Sir…"
One of the more perceptive captains seemed about to speak, but the quiet forest suddenly shook violently.
Broken branches crashed down from above, announcing the arrival of an uninvited guest.
"What are you hesitating for? Have you forgotten Marine rules? If you're scared, you're not worthy of being Marines!"
A weak but unwavering voice rang out from above.
Smoker—covered in smoke, barely holding himself up against a branch—stared coldly down at Ren.
"So it's you? Ren the Beheader? You killed a Marine officer and still dare linger in this area— you're utterly lawless!"
"…?"
A question mark popped up over Ren's head.
Ren the Beheader? What?
But in the next second, his expression hardened—because he recognized the newcomer.
After all, in the entire sea, there was only one lunatic who smoked two cigars at once.
Loguetown's Logia user—White Hunter Smoker!
He might not be the strongest in the East Blue,but he was easily the most troublesome opponent here.
A Logia-type Smoke-Smoke Fruit user who couldn't be hit without Armament Haki,a justice-obsessed fanatic,and a relentless hunter who never lets a target go.
He was, without question, the last person Ren wanted to meet right now.
Because there was no winning.Or rather—winning was absurdly hard.A hell-difficulty boss fight.
But why the hell was Smoker here!?Wasn't he stationed in Loguetown!?
Ren froze for half a second, stunned by the massive disconnect between his expectations and reality.
Fortunately—
Ren had excellent mental composure. He reacted instantly:
"Zoro! Don't fight the Marines. Take Nami and leave—head back to the hideout and prepare to evacuate!"
"Don't even think about it!"
Smoker exhaled smoke, white jets erupting like boosters as he launched downward.
But halfway through his direct rush toward Nami, the smoke trail suddenly veered sharply—because Ren sprinted toward the bay.
The Marines along the way didn't even try to block him.They just screamed "Ahh!" and conveniently dropped to the ground to avoid becoming collateral damage.
If this were Ren's previous world, the director would've given each extra a lunchbox with an extra chicken drumstick for their performance.
"Coward! Abandoning your own companions!"
Smoker chased relentlessly. Exhausted or not, his speed still kept pace with Ren.
"Go!"
Zoro seized the moment.
Two-Sword Style: Tornado!
A violent swirl of air blasted outward, flinging sand and debris.The Marines, stung by wood chips and dust, failed to intercept him.
The green-haired swordsman carried off one girl and one dog without hindrance.
Once they vanished, a Marine officer pointed toward the bay.
"After him! That's Loguetown's White Hunter—if he's on the move, he won't fail!"
"Yes, sir!"
Not one Marine questioned why, if Smoker never failed, they still needed to chase him instead of the green-haired swordsman who fled moments ago.
A swordsman who could create a tornado with a slash?Yeah. They'd let someone else handle him.
And so—pursuit and flight.
The forest blurred past like it was moving backward, two figures vaulting through the terrain.
"Surrender. You're not my match! I'll make sure you receive the justice you deserve!"
Smoker endured exhaustion, wringing the very last strength out of his body as he pursued like a rabid hound.
He periodically launched white smoke fists, blasting apart tree trunks more often than not.
The forest thundered with each impact, as if a giant beast was rampaging through it.
Yet the hunted prey didn't fear—he performed.
"Heh… justice? You call that justice—when you collude with pirates to oppress civilians? With what do you judge me? That hypocritical excuse you call justice!?"
Ren shouted with impassioned indignation, playing the perfect tragic victim turned avenger.
Meanwhile, his feet never slowed—his Boots of Swiftness exhaled surges of cold mist with every step, accelerating him further.
Once he entered full running rhythm, his speed remained frighteningly high.
Even Smoker, flying with smoke propulsion, couldn't close the gap—partly because he was distracted by Ren's words.
Though he didn't respond, he clearly dismissed it as psychological warfare.
And yes—that was exactly what it was.
Ren maintained speed, weaving through trees for cover, but the forest ahead grew thinner—and distant smoke rose into the sky.
The bay was close.Smoker's chance was coming.
The forest vanished altogether, giving way to open ground.
"You're not escaping!"
Smoker surged forward with a burst of speed, charging in a straight line—his smoke fist stretching out to grab Ren and yank him back.
His other hand thrust forward, driving the tip of his Seastone-embedded jitte straight into Ren's abdomen.
Ren seemed unable to react—until the moment the jitte struck, a metallic vibration rang out.
A clear, resonant signal—"Now."
Golden patterns surged along Ren's hand as he seized the jitte's head.
His other hand released the sword, fingers straightening like a blade—
SHHHT!
He severed Smoker's smoke arm.
"You're the one who can't escape!"
Ren twisted his wrist—and smashed the Seastone tip of the jitte directly into Smoker's body.
A sickening bone-crack rang out.
"You… you monster—guh!!"
Smoker coughed a mouthful of blood.
A golden fist grew larger and larger in his blurred vision.
BOOM!
Ren's full-force punch landed squarely on Smoker's face,driving him straight into the ground.
K.O.
Half of Smoker's body sank into the earth as rubble blasted outward.
Ren gripped the jitte for a moment—hesitant—then immediately dove down to finish the job.
He had planned for this.He wasn't about to waste the opportunity.
(End of Chapter)