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In the enormous crater, Douglas Bullet lay sprawled in a broken V-shape, eyes rolled white, blood crusting at the corner of his mouth. He didn't move. He couldn't; he was completely unconscious.
No one had expected this. A monster like Bullet, flattened in an instant… by an unknown teenage navy recruit.
The Roger Pirates fell into stunned, absolute silence.
Douglas Bullet, eighteen years old—the Demon Heir. Ever since he first challenged the world, he had never truly lost. The only exception was Roger, and after that defeat, he joined Roger's crew and stayed with them until today.
He was a battle-scarred prodigy with a body built like a war machine and talent said to stretch far into the future.
Yet today, he had suffered a defeat even he could never have imagined.
"Whew…"
Exhaling, Kyle lifted his gaze.
The man with the iconic mustache at the front was unmistakably Gol D. Roger, the future Pirate King. At his sides: the blond-haired Dark King Rayleigh, and Scopper Gaban.
Kozuki Oden was nowhere in sight—probably still sailing with Whitebeard at this point in time.
Every Roger Pirates crewmember stared at him, their eyes full of shock and newfound seriousness.
There was no doubt now: these world-class titans were taking him seriously.
"Hahahaha!"
"Roger! Don't underestimate the young blood in the navy!"
Garp's booming laughter rolled across the field. A heartbeat later he leapt, soaring over Kyle's head before crashing straight into the crowd of pirates like a meteor.
"Garp."
"You really picked yourself one hell of a seedling."
Roger moved, drawing Ace—the long saber at his hip—in a sweeping arc.
Rayleigh and Gaban exchanged a quick glance.
"That kid's mine," Rayleigh said, eyes tightening.
Gaban nodded and stepped aside, searching for his own opponent.
They were all top-tier pirates. Of course they recognized the technique the dark-haired boy had used on Bullet—advanced Conqueror's Haki coating.
That was a skill only people born with the "king's" potential could ever hope to master. And he had taken Bullet out in a single strike. To the Roger Pirates, Kyle was now officially someone they could not ignore.
"Boom!"
Roger and Garp collided. Wind exploded outward, dirt and debris whipping through the trees, bending trunks until they creaked.
Right then, Rayleigh dipped his knees and shot forward.
He moved unbelievably fast—crossing over a hundred meters almost instantly—landing right above Kyle.
"Naval boy!"
"Let me see just how strong you really are!"
The wind howled around him, his voice cutting through it, sharp and clear.
Kyle looked up. The first thing he saw was Rayleigh's expression—tense, serious, burning with fighting spirit.
He froze for a second, honestly confused. Why did this guy look like he was facing one of the strongest fighters alive? That excitement, that full-power readiness—it hit him almost physically.
Wasn't this a little exaggerated?
I've only been in the navy for… what, barely over a month? I haven't even finished any proper training!
The blade flashed, light glinting off steel. Kyle narrowed his eyes.
He tried to dodge—and instantly realized he couldn't. Rayleigh's swordsmanship was too refined, too fast, and there was an unseen force locking him down, cutting off every possible escape route.
"He predicted all my movements?"
"Observation Haki, huh…"
Kyle sighed.
Compared to monsters like these, his foundation really was lacking.
He looked up sharply, eyes narrowing, right fist clenching until black-and-red lightning crackled around it.
He knew he couldn't block Rayleigh's strike.
So he'd just take it—and counter with everything he had, even if it meant dying.
"Shff!"
The blade cut clean through his neck, slicing him open without resistance. The force of the strike continued far behind him, ripping across the battlefield and forcing Kuzan, Sakazuki, and the others to duck.
"?"
Rayleigh's eyes flickered with confusion, then shock.
The kid didn't dodge at all? In his Observation Haki's future sight, the boy had simply stood there, accepting the blow.
He couldn't dodge?
That weak?
A moment ago he had looked like he wanted to evade—wanted to resist—but simply couldn't react. Like a genuine weakling faced with overwhelming strength.
But then… how could someone like that use Conqueror's Haki coating?
Rayleigh tensed.
Sure enough, in the next second, a violent, domineering aura exploded outward. A fist wrapped in black-and-red lightning surged toward him like a collapsing mountainside.
Rayleigh raised his blade just in time.
"Clang!"
The sword shuddered violently. The shockwave blasted straight into his face, sending his blond hair whipping backward.
His feet skidded uncontrollably, dragged back dozens of meters before he regained control.
Behind him, two long trenches tore across the island—the aftermath of that single punch carving through the earth for kilometers.
"This kid…"
Kyle's expression was just as grim as he stared back.
In that first exchange, he had already felt the massive gap between them.
Rayleigh's Observation Haki, his razor-sharp angles, his unpredictable but experienced swordsmanship—all hard advantages.
And physically? Rayleigh completely outclassed him.
One strike—just one—had instantly killed him, without even giving him the chance to react.
"So this is what a world-class powerhouse is like…"
"My whole body's burning!"
Kyle screamed in his heart, excitement flooding through him.
Not fear—battle lust.
In this fight, all he had were two things: maxed-out Conqueror's Haki… and a body that never stayed dead.
Their eyes met, fire and fighting spirit crackling between them.
Then—
"Shff!"
Both figures vanished. Rayleigh swung, slicing Kyle diagonally in half.
"This kid…"
"He really isn't defending at all!"
Rayleigh was shaken. He had never seen anything like this style of fighting.
Even stranger, the boy still didn't have a single wound. Rayleigh suspected some bizarre Devil Fruit ability.
And then came the boy's counterattacks—punches and kicks wreathed in black-and-red lightning, Conqueror's coating boosting every blow, each one impossible to ignore.
The moment they clashed, the fight reached boiling intensity, shocking everyone watching.
Kyle's fighting style was wild—reckless to the point of terror.
From the outside, it looked like he had completely abandoned defense, disregarded life itself.
But he knew the truth: against Rayleigh's Observation Haki, his vast experience, and his flawless swordsmanship, dodging was never an option.
Every strike would be an instant kill.
So he attacked. And attacked. And attacked.
And it worked.
Even a top-tier fighter like the Dark King, deputy captain of the Pirate King's crew, was soon forced back—blood appearing at the corner of his mouth—while the numbers on Kyle's system interface ticked upward like a storm.
"..."
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