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Chapter 378: Mental Breakdown: Haki Doesn't Work?
As the golden pillar of light slowly dissipated, everyone's gaze subconsciously shifted from the empty counter, locking onto the massive projection screen that had just flared to life in mid-air.
There, a "battle of gods" worthy of going down in history was about to unfold.
Meanwhile, behind the counter, the instigator of it all, Blake, was in an incredibly good mood as he stroked the pure black metal card in his hand. It was cold and heavy, but it carried the intoxicating fragrance of money.
"Eight hundred years of savings..." Blake muttered, glancing up at the screen with a meaningful smirk. "Charging such an expensive ticket... it would be a bit too ruthless if you went in and got one-shotted right away."
Although he was a profiteer, he still possessed basic professional ethics.
In truth, when selecting the dungeon, Blake had played a little trick. He hadn't thrown Imu directly into the timeline of Dragon Ball Z or Dragon Ball Super, where blowing up planets was the norm.
What a joke. If he actually made the "Master of the Empty Throne" face off against Frieza or that pink Majin Buu, she probably wouldn't last half a second.
Let alone Imu. Even if you bundled up all the powerhouses in the One Piece world, threw in the three Ancient Weapons, and even blew up the Red Line for kicks, in front of monsters who could wipe out galaxies with a twitch of their fingers, they were nothing more than slightly larger specks of dust.
That wouldn't be a trial. That would be a funeral.
As a responsible Dungeon Master, Blake knew Imu was his biggest "whale" to date. He was counting on her to grind through several dungeons and explode with gold coins and rewards for him. It would be a damn shame if she was killed off immediately.
"So..." Blake thought to himself. "I'll arrange a 'novice village' for you to adapt first."
The time period he opened was the storyline from the original Dragon Ball series—specifically, the 23rd Tenkaichi Budokai!
At this point in time, the power scaling hadn't quite reached despair-inducing levels of absurdity. Though they possessed city-destroying power, it was still somewhat within the comprehension of "carbon-based lifeforms."
It was the perfect testing ground to see exactly how much this "King of the World," who had ruled the seas for eight hundred years, weighed.
"Let me see," Blake took a sip of his coffee, his eyes gleaming with the anticipation of a researcher observing a lab rat. "Can this so-called 'King of the World' maintain her high-and-mighty dignity in the face of a genuine Ki Blast?"
...
At the same time, inside the dungeon world.
[Objective: Strive for the highest possible ranking in this martial arts tournament. Ultimate Goal: Win the Championship.]
[Reward: Calculated based on your final ranking. The higher the rank, the richer the reward.]
Noise. Deafening, chaotic noise.
This was the first sensation that registered when Imu regained consciousness. There was no world-ending oppressive aura. There was no vast backdrop of the starry cosmos.
What greeted her eyes was a massive, open-air martial arts arena.
The sunlight was overly glaring. Around her sat a dense crowd of tens of thousands of spectators, their fanatic cheers washing over her like a tsunami. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, popcorn, and hormones.
"So loud..." Imu frowned deeply. The signature crimson ringed pupil flashed with undisguised disgust.
As the master of the Empty Throne, she had enjoyed the dead silence and solitude of the Room of Flowers in Mary Geoise for eight hundred years. An environment as rowdy as a wet market caused her physical revulsion.
"Is this the so-called 'trial of the gods'?" Imu looked down at her hands.
Her power was still there. Her Haki, her Devil Fruit abilities, even the "origin power" stemming from her deepest bloodline—everything was intact. This brought her a slight sense of relief.
Noise. Nauseating noise. Standing amidst the surging crowd, a cold killing intent flashed through Imu's Rinnegan. This was absolute blasphemy against "God." In Mary Geoise, wherever she went, all creation was forced to kneel, and the world fell silent.
But here? These "inferior organisms" reeking of sweat actually dared to buzz like flies right next to her ear.
"Goku! Over here, over here!"
"Go, Goku! You have to win the championship!"
"Don't lose to that green-faced guy!"
A shrill female voice practically exploded right next to Imu's ear.
Imu slowly turned her head. Her gaze cut through the bustling crowd, locking onto a small group of people standing a short distance away.
It was a bizarre combination. There was a young woman with blue hair waving her arms and screaming at the top of her lungs, a short, bald man without a nose, a muscular man with three eyes, and a lecherous old man wearing sunglasses and carrying a turtle shell. There was even a flying cat and a pig.
These... are the powerhouses Blake said could "blow up planets"?
A sneer of extreme contempt curled Imu's lips. Absurd. It was the biggest joke in the world!
There was absolutely no aura of a strong fighter on any of them. Even that three-eyed brute, though somewhat muscular, would only amount to a standard Marine soldier in the New World. As for the old man with the turtle shell... Imu couldn't even be bothered to look at him properly. He was a piece of trash with one foot in the grave, probably weaker than a Private First Class.
Disappointed, Imu withdrew her gaze. Beneath her black robe, a pale, slender finger twitched.
Although causing a massacre might incite unnecessary chaos... releasing a little pressure to teach these lower-class beings some reverence shouldn't be a problem, right?
Hum—!
An invisible yet utterly terrifying wave of spiritual pressure erupted outward, centered on Imu!
It was Conqueror's Haki! And it was the absolute strongest Conqueror's Haki—one that stood at the apex of the One Piece world, having dominated it for eight hundred years!
Although she localized the pressure to target only the small group next to her, that apocalyptic spiritual weight was enough to instantly shatter the minds of ordinary people, leaving even Vice Admiral-level combatants foaming at the mouth!
In Imu's mind, the next second would feature these noisy insects dropping in perfect unison, their eyes rolling back like harvested wheat. The world would return to peace and quiet.
However.
One second passed.
Two seconds passed.
The blue-haired woman's shrill screams remained as full of vitality as ever. "Goku! Look over here! It's me, Bulma!"
Even that bald man without a nose was leisurely cracking sunflower seeds, spitting out the shells as he mumbled, "Oh man, Bulma, stop yelling. Goku is still warming up."
Imu was speechless.
The finger she had just raised froze mid-air. In those historically unruffled ringed eyes, a trace of utter bewilderment appeared for the very first time.
What's going on? Did it fail?
Impossible! She could clearly sense her Haki perfectly blanketing the group. With that level of mental impact, even a brute like Kaido couldn't possibly be unaffected!
Yet these people... forget about fainting, they hadn't even dropped a single sunflower seed!
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