The Tokyo night was usually a chaotic symphony of neon lights and distant sirens, but for Tenkai Hajun, the rustle of his Navy Kimono felt far more thunderous.
He sat perched on the jagged edge of a skyscraper, his legs dangling into the city's bottomless abyss. His fingers, calloused from a decade of slaughter, slowly traced the gold embroidery on his collar—a piece of pride he had bought with ten years of blood-stained savings.
"The scent of detergent is still there," he muttered lazily. A ghost of a smile flickered on his lips, only to vanish as quickly as it came. He was simply too exhausted to care.
Suddenly, the world in front of him seemed to vibrate.
His Shanks-level Kenbunshoku Haki—the peak of Observation—screamed within his mind, flashing a vivid vision of the next five seconds. The rooftop door behind him would shatter. Dust would fill the air. And worst of all... his new robe would get dirty.
Hajun let out a long, weary sigh. "Dammit," he thought.
CRASH!
Just as predicted, the iron door ripped off its hinges, slamming onto the concrete with a deafening thud. Five mercenary sorcerers stormed onto the roof, their Cursed Energy overflowing in jagged, ugly waves. They were an eyesore, ruining the rare silence of the night Hajun had fought so hard to enjoy.
"Tenkai Hajun! You're finally cornered, brat!" their leader barked, his face flushed with the red hue of blind ambition.
Hajun didn't even bother to turn around. Instead, he was meticulously flicking a tiny speck of dust off his shoulder. "Do you have any idea?" he asked, his voice calm yet chilling. "This robe is more expensive than the bounty on all five of your heads combined. And you just polluted the very air around it."
"Don't get cocky!"
One of the sorcerers lunged forward, his speed enhanced by a flicker of cursed energy. To any ordinary human, he was a blur. But in Hajun's eyes, he was no faster than a snail crawling through thick mud.
Hajun stood up. Slowly. With Madara-like grace, he took a casual step forward. He didn't run; he simply strolled through the gaps of the enemy's frantic punches.
Whoosh. Whoosh.
Every strike missed the golden threads of his kimono by a mere centimeter. Hajun didn't even take his hands out of his pockets.
"Enough," Hajun whispered directly into the attacker's ear as they passed each other.
In a split second, Hajun's right hand emerged. It was pitch black, shining like polished obsidian. His Busoshoku Haki condensed, compressing the surrounding air until it creaked under the sheer pressure. He unleashed a Garp-style punch—not at the man's face, but at the empty air in front of his stomach.
BOOM!
It wasn't a physical impact that echoed across Tokyo, but a massive shockwave of air pressure strong enough to split the clouds above. The enemy was sent flying like a railgun projectile, crashing through the wall of the opposite skyscraper until the concrete crumbled into dust.
The remaining three tried to surround him, unsheathing longswords imbued with curses. Hajun didn't flinch. He merely shifted the position of the Shodai Kitetsu at his waist—just an inch out of its scabbard.
Click.
A cursed clinking sound echoed, radiating a deep, blood-red aura. Suddenly, the gravity on the rooftop felt ten times heavier. It was his Haoshoku Haki leaking passively—the raw, unfiltered intimidation of a butcher who had seen the darkest corners of the world.
The assassins' knees buckled. Their weapons clattered to the floor. As they stared at the "Hawk" eyes hidden behind Hajun's navy bangs, they finally realized the truth. They weren't facing a teenager. They were facing a natural disaster in human form.
"I told you, didn't I?" Hajun yawned, his finger tapping the hilt of his blade with a lazy rhythm. "Don't make me stop being lazy. It's a real pain to wash a robe like this by myself."
He sat back down, leaning against the railing as his blue robe fluttered in the wind. He didn't kill them—he was too exhausted to deal with the paperwork of corpses. He simply crushed their spirits until they would never dare hold a weapon again.
"Just one minute... all I wanted was one minute of peace."
Hajun stared at the starless sky, then leaped from the twenty-story height, vanishing into the darkness like a shadow. His free time wasn't over yet, and he wouldn't let anyone—sorcerer or curse—ruin it again.