The moment Kai's calm voice fell,
Aokiji blinked in stunned silence.
He looked up—
The street was carpeted with bodies: over three thousand pirates, all felled by the Conqueror's Haki.
Only a few survivors trembled where they stood, paralyzed by terror.
Aokiji's gaze drifted back to the boy.
Their eyes met.
Disbelief tightened his face.
Good grief… you call this "simple"?
Are you sure about that?
So—
when Kai said he'd use the simplest way to deal with the pirates,
He meant unleashing Conqueror's Haki and wiping out an army in seconds?
"So this… this is how a monster thinks."
"Guess I learned something new today."
The corner of Aokiji's mouth twitched.
Simple?
Well… technically, yes.
He just released his will—
and in a few breaths, three thousand pirates were done for,
with only a handful still conscious.
Honestly, what could be simpler?
Even Aokiji—
even if he went all out—
couldn't have done that.
To subdue thousands in seconds?
Impossible.
Even with full elemental power, it wouldn't be that fast.
Yet this boy had done it—
with ridiculous ease.
"That 'simple method' of yours…"
"It's only simple for you."
Aokiji gave a wry smile and shook his head.
"For the rest of the world? Ninety-nine percent of people on this sea couldn't even dream of it."
"For those without the Disposition of a King, no amount of effort can awaken the Conqueror's Haki."
He sighed.
"So yeah—your 'simple' might be the hardest thing imaginable for everyone else."
Even Aokiji didn't possess it.
There was no copying Kai's solution.
For him, it wasn't simple at all—
It was absurd.
Meanwhile, Oren the Demon stared blankly at the ruin of his crew.
Three thousand men—gone.
The few survivors shook so hard they could barely move.
Cold dread filled his chest.
He glanced toward Aokiji, realization dawning.
Their situation was hopeless.
The "weak point" he'd targeted…
was a four-year-old who wielded Conqueror's Haki.
Four years old.
Oren's mind reeled.
He had never heard of such a thing.
One stupid decision—
and he had doomed the Demon Pirates.
Regret clawed at him.
Why provoke that kid?
Now his men were down.
And he was effectively alone—
save for the three officers still standing near him.
The rest?
Useless.
"B-Boss… what do we do now?" Homa asked, voice shaking.
"What do we do?"
Oren's thoughts tangled.
He had no plan.
Fight Aokiji head-on?
Suicide.
That man was a Marine HQ Vice Admiral—
a Logia user.
Without Armament Haki or seastone, they couldn't lay a finger on him.
Oren himself had no Haki.
He couldn't touch a Logia even if he tried.
Still, he ground his teeth and barked an order.
"There's only one way left—"
"I'll hold off Aokiji!"
"You three—work together and take down that brat as fast as possible!"
"That's our only chance!"
"Otherwise, the Demon Pirates are finished today!"
His lieutenants—Homa, Garson, and Grin—stared in shock.
"B-Boss, are you serious? You're sending us to that monster?!"
"That kid just took out three thousand men in one go!"
They could still see it—
three thousand crewmates collapsing in an instant,
toppled by a single wave of will.
A four-year-old had done that.
What kind of monster was he?
"You expect us to fight that?!"
Oren roared back, frustration cracking his voice.
"Of course I do!"
"Yes, the Conqueror's Haki is terrifying—but it isn't infinite strength!"
"It crushes weaklings, sure; against true powerhouses it's just intimidation!"
"That's why it's you three!"
"He's four! Even with the Haki of a king, how strong can his body be?"
"Don't tell me the three of you can't handle a four-year-old!"
Understanding dawned—if only a little.
"Ah… so that's it."
Their fear eased by a thread.
They forced themselves to believe.
"Move!"
Oren's shout shook the air.
He threw back his head and howled—
and his body began to change.
Power surged.
Muscles swelled.
Bones cracked.
Fur erupted across his skin.
His already massive frame climbed toward ten meters.
Clothes shredded.
Eyes bled red.
Fangs bared.
In seconds, Oren the Demon stood fully transformed—
a rampaging bear-man, aura heavy and violent.
His presence loomed like a living mountain.
"GO!!"
The roar thundered down the street.
He slammed both hands to the earth,
ripped up a slab of stone the size of a house—
and hurled it at Aokiji.
BOOM!
The stone shattered.
Dust billowed.
Useless.
Physical blows meant nothing to a Logia user.
Without Armament Haki or seastone, they never land.
Fragments glittered with frost.
Aokiji's broken ice re-formed,
his body knitting itself as chill raced over the ground.
While Oren engaged the vice admiral,
Homa, Garson, and Grin charged Kai.
Killing intent flared.
Fists clenched.
Eyes burned.
From a distance, Aokiji raised an eyebrow—
and did not intervene.
"Kai…"
"Let me see—aside from that Conqueror's Haki of yours…"
"What else can you do?"
After what he'd witnessed,
he no longer doubted the boy.
There were cards left unplayed.
So he let the test come.
"Here they come."
Facing three pirates with tens of millions on their heads,
Kai's eyes gleamed.
Excitement flickered.
Blood ran hot.
Three at once—
and instead of fear,
a fierce thrill rose.
Battle-lust lit his chest.
His pupils glinted faintly red.
"Good."
"Come, then…"
"Let's have ourselves a man's fight."
He grinned,
caught his collar—
and tore the shirt away.
Rrrip!
Fabric snapped and fluttered in the heat.
Noonday sun poured down,
gilding his bare torso.
Light traced muscles coiled like cables—
a body carved by work far beyond his years.
Every line promised explosive force.
And across his back,
the shadowed lines of his Ghost Back formed a fearsome pattern—
grim, demonic, awe-inspiring.
The sight alone raised gooseflesh.
From that small frame,
pressure began to rise again—
thick, heavy, crushing.
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