"Can the Nika Fruit reach power like this?"
"Interesting."
High atop the towering Throne of the Supreme God—
a mysterious shadow with ripple-patterned eyes murmured to itself.
Below that throne…
the Five Elders—arrogant even in front of Kong and the Celestial Dragons—were kneeling flat on the ground, not daring to raise their heads.
"Lord Im," the elder in a kimono asked with utmost reverence, "shall we use that power… and extinguish this lamp?"
Yes.
The figure seated upon that supreme throne was the true ruler of the world—
the 'King of the World,' Im.
Im did not answer immediately.
He slowly rose from the throne, casually kicking aside scattered bounty posters. His hand never stopped—idly teasing a butterfly as if nothing in the world deserved urgency.
Only after watching the butterfly flutter on his fingertips did Im speak, unhurried:
"This world… needs to be a bit more stable."
The voice was thin and hollow, like it came from a vast emptiness.
"It will be done, Your Highness."
The Five Elders bowed their heads in unison, answering respectfully.
Meanwhile, on the battlefield of God Valley—
"SENGOKU!!"
Garp's roar ripped through the air, his face drained of color.
Sengoku and Tsuru were close—so close that in certain matters, Sengoku even sought her advice.
Seeing Tsuru take Romu's fatal blow, even in Buddha form Sengoku felt his heart twist with panic.
Without hesitation, he leapt down into the crater—a hundred meters deep—where rubble had buried her.
Cold sweat poured off his forehead.
His heart hammered like a drum.
He smashed through rock after rock with desperate strength.
Finally—
at the deepest point of the pit, a familiar figure appeared.
Sengoku's hands moved faster.
Chunks of stone were ripped away and thrown aside.
Tsuru's body was fully revealed.
Her waist was bent at an unnatural angle—nearly sixty degrees.
Her eyes were half-wide, unfocused.
Blood soaked her body.
When she saw Sengoku, a flicker of relief flashed across her paper-white face…
but even with all her strength, she couldn't force a single word out.
Sengoku didn't speak either.
His expression tightened.
He carefully lifted Tsuru, drenched in blood, and jumped out of the crater.
"How is she?!"
Garp's voice came again—raw with fear.
He and Tsuru were close too—closer than most people knew.
He'd lent her his warship more times than he could count.
Kong and Zephyr appeared instantly, surrounding Sengoku, all of them visibly shaken.
"Relax… she's alive," Sengoku said, taking a long breath.
"But… her injuries are extremely severe."
Before his words could settle—
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Four violent impacts exploded nearby.
Roger, Rayleigh, Gaban, and Bullet were sent flying, crashing down in the area around Kong and the others.
The ground shook.
Everyone's expressions snapped into cold focus.
Their eyes turned.
Through rolling dust, a not-so-bulky figure landed on a massive boulder before them.
A gust of wind swept through—
the dust cleared—
and Romu stood there, fully visible.
His pants were torn.
His short-sleeved shirt was shredded into ragged strips.
His body was covered in terrifying wounds—slashes and gashes so deep that flesh had peeled outward.
But that was unavoidable.
He'd chosen to kill Tsuru.
He hadn't fully defended.
And those hits had come from three top-tier monsters—
a future Pirate King,
a man titled "Dark King,"
and Bullet—"the Devil's Heir," a monster among monsters.
Romu's gaze drifted over them, calm as still water.
"Next…"
"…which one will it be?"
He raised his right hand and lightly brushed the torn flesh on his chest.
The grotesque wound instantly vanished.
A "mere fatal injury"—
treated like dust.
"Damn it!"
Zephyr's purple hair bristled, his jaw tightening.
"This freak's regeneration got even stronger!!"
Roger's heart sank.
He had seen Romu's plan earlier—saw the intent to trade hits to secure a kill.
He hadn't warned anyone.
Because he, Kong, and Garp had just beaten Rocks using that same brutal logic—exchange injury for victory.
But he never imagined—
Romu's healing would be this outrageous.
For Rocks, trading damage carried risk.
For Romu…
it was barely a cost.
They had nearly lost one person…
and in return, Romu had only "spent" a bit of energy.
Roger's mind churned.
His jaw twitched.
His face distorted with frustration.
Romu watched him, arms folded, eyes indifferent.
"What's with that face?"
"Scared?"
His words carried a quiet thread of Conqueror's pressure.
The same method he'd used on Tsuru—
crush the spirit first,
then strike the body.
Killing strong enemies meant cutting at their will.
That was Romu's most efficient way to conserve stamina.
And yet—
as if by instinct—
Romu's eyes flicked toward the strange Celestial Dragon altar behind them…
the one carved with thirteen devil-fruit patterns, and a small symbol in the center that looked disturbingly like a tree.
Romu's eyelid twitched.
That altar was the reason he hadn't revealed his ultimate trump card—True Thousand Hands—to simply erase them.
That place gave him an intense, irrational sense of danger.
While Romu's attention shifted—
Tsuru, who had been unconscious, regained a sliver of awareness.
Her eyes opened to a blurry world.
She tried to rise—
but a sharp, soul-splitting pain shot through her waist.
"Tsuru!! You're awake?!"
"You didn't die—thank god!"
"Don't move! Your injuries are terrible!"
"We'll save you!"
Sengoku, Garp, Zephyr, and Kong crowded around her, their voices urgent.
Tsuru's entire body trembled.
Sweat the size of beans rolled down her face—pain beyond normal endurance.
"My injury… it's fine. Let me… keep fighting."
But the instant she forced those words out—
blood spilled from her mouth.
Her head tilted—
and she fainted again.
Nearby—
Garp lowered his head slowly.
His iron face was swallowed by shadow.
His voice came out hoarse:
"Tsuru… that's enough."
"The rest…"
"…leave it to us."
That single sentence hit like a hammer.
Sengoku, Zephyr, and Kong all stiffened, then slowly lowered their heads as well.
"You're right," Sengoku said quietly. "She's done enough."
"Now…"
"…it's our turn."
They gently set Tsuru down.
Then—
Garp stepped toward Roger, his eyes hard.
"Don't get shaken by Romu's aura."
"…Wasn't that what you just said?"
Roger froze.
A bolt of realization struck his chest.
He laughed under his breath.
"So the Marines are lecturing me now, huh…"
Then he lifted his head—
straightened his spine—
and swung Ace up into a ready stance.
His mustache bristled.
His voice rang with wild pride:
"I, Gol D. Roger, have sailed these seas for one reason—"
"—to find an opponent like YOU!!"
Dark-red Conqueror's Haki erupted and wrapped his body.
Rayleigh pushed up his glasses, the lenses flashing.
"That's the Roger I chose to follow—ship and soul."
Gaban grinned, hoisting his twin axes.
"Heh. My axes are ready."
Bullet's body pulsed with purple light.
His Fusion-Fruit power activated—nearby inorganic matter began trembling and gathering toward him.
In an instant—
eight warriors' fighting spirit surged together.
Eight pressure waves collided, fused, and became visible—
the ground trembled.
The air rippled like water.
Crack—
Even space itself seemed to groan under the weight of their will.
A gigantic tornado of killing intent shot into the sky—
and in a blink, tore apart the storm clouds Romu's aura had gathered.
Blood-red sunset light spilled across the broken God Valley.
And the eight men stood in the brightest part of that glow.
On the distant barren island, spectators stared at the sky dyed crimson.
After several breaths, murmurs returned—low, fearful.
"As expected of the Marines' top forces… and the Roger Pirates… even now they can still erupt like this…"
"It's terrifying—standing here, I can still feel the heat in their will…"
"Look at Bullet—"
"WHAT? That's the 'Devil's Heir'?!"
"Yeah… how else could he break Romu's defense?"
"I think…"
"Romu's strong, but one versus eight… can he outlast them?"
"Also, I saw his wounds—his flesh was torn open. He can heal, sure, but that has to burn stamina…"
"No matter how this ends… the name 'Romu' will shake the whole world. His fame will eclipse Rocks himself."
The crowd was a mix—pirates, bounty hunters, kingdom soldiers, fishermen.
But all of them spoke softly.
No one wanted to provoke the surviving Rocks Pirates occupying the front edge of the island.
Among those survivors, anxiety boiled over into curses.
Kong, Roger, the Marines—everyone was "trash" in their mouths.
Kaido's brow twitched.
The noise grated his nerves.
"SHUT THE HELL UP!!"
Instant silence.
They all knew what Kaido could do—turn into a dragon and summon disasters.
No one wanted to be the one he "educated."
Kaido snorted, then hurried to Whitebeard and Shiki, face tense.
"Newgate! Shiki!"
"Those idiots can't see it—tell me straight."
"Can Captain Romu win or not?!"
Shiki puffed the cigar Romu had lit for him, eyes narrowed.
"Hard to say."
Kaido gritted his teeth, exhaling sharply, then turned to Whitebeard.
Whitebeard, barely holding himself together, shook his head.
"Shiki's right."
"It really is hard to say."
"Romu's aura looks steady… but he took real damage."
"He healed, yes—but no one knows how many times he can recover from injuries like that before his stamina breaks."
"And Kong's group are top-tier monsters. This is only possible because Romu is a freak."
"If it were us… one versus two and we'd have fallen long ago."
Kaido's fists clenched.
Then, from behind, that cold voice spoke again.
"What—no confidence in your own man?"
Red Count smiled, ignoring their glare, eyes locked on God Valley.
Inside his mind, he was certain:
"Even if that monster can't win…"
"…he won't lose."
What made him so sure was Observation Haki.
From the moment Romu read through Roger's "Divine Strike" shadows—
Red Count confirmed a horrifying truth:
Even in the field Red Count prided himself on most…
Romu's Observation was far beyond him.
And with Observation at that level—
Romu would not commit to a fight he believed could truly end him.
Which meant—
Romu had a trump card.
But looking at the eight whose will had only grown fiercer…
they wouldn't be as easy as before.
Red Count's narrow eyes sharpened to a slit.
"Romu…"
"The card you're relying on…"
"…what exactly is it?"
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