A cross-shaped slash roared through the air and cleaved straight into a cannonball that had just left the barrel.
The roar of the cannon was forcibly shoved back into its chamber, followed by a violent explosion.
The blazing shockwave swallowed everything nearby—guards, officers, and those who had attempted to organize a counterattack—all fell into pools of blood.
"Run... run!"
"We can't win! No point dying for those bastards!"
"I want to go home!"
In less than a minute, nearly a hundred people were dead or wounded.
The horrific death rate—one in five—shattered the will of every merchant guard present.
They all broke and fled.
The corpse of a fallen comrade lying at the feet of the green-haired man told them clearly—this was an enemy beyond their power to defeat.
Meanwhile,as Zoro drew all attention to himself in direct combat, Ren and his group arrived at their destination.
Not the grand, gilded hall at the center, nor the suspiciously hidden warehouses at the corners—
but an ordinary-looking villa with a large fountain out front.
"Tch, really knows how to hide," Ren muttered.
He lowered his gaze to the compass in his hand—the needle pointed unwaveringly toward the villa before them.
The Desire Compass had locked onto its target: the place where the greatest wealth was gathered.
Those skilled at swimming drown in water; those skilled in battle die by the sword; and those obsessed with wealth die by greed.
So, he came.
"This is the place? What do we do now?"
Nami asked instinctively, and Nojiko tensed up beside her.
"From here on, it's my job," Ren ordered. "Just stay back and don't get hurt."
Nami and Nojiko obediently stopped where they were.
I need to find a way to make them combat-ready too, Ren thought, frowning slightly as he walked toward the villa.
As he advanced, a deep-blue crystal appeared in his hand. Surging energy was extracted from it and scattered into dust.
Mana Crystal!
The energy wasn't being used for teleportation this time—it was charging his newly acquired Armor of Glory.
Inside the villa, numerous hidden eyes watched him from every direction, filled with murderous intent.
The chairman said—kill one enemy, get a million Beli!
Time to get rich.
Anyone we fancy on Mys Island, the guild cleans up the mess? Perfect. That "madam" I saw earlier looked nice—I'll make her mine later.
The vile thoughts surged like a dark tide within the villa, building pressure, waiting for the moment to erupt.
But the instant Ren set one foot on the stairs—everything changed.
The golden glow of luxury was devoured by an abyss of darkness. The space before the villa's entrance became suffocatingly black.
Only the rhythmic tap, tap, tap of footsteps echoed in the gloom—like Death himself had arrived to claim their souls.
Someone finally cracked under the pressure and pulled the trigger.
A rocket-propelled grenade shot toward the door, trailing smoke.
From the deep darkness, a radiant golden gauntlet—bright as forged sunlight—extended forth and casually caught the missile.
In that instant, the darkness vanished.
Standing before the doorway was a being wrapped in divine brilliance—an angel.It wore armor forged from light itself, its surface rippling with flowing luminescence.
Nearly three meters tall, it looked like a small giant, faint golden wings of light fanning out behind it.
The flaming rocket in its grasp was crushed like a twig.
BOOM—!
The explosion shattered the gate, sending dust and debris flying.
"Is... is it over?" someone whispered.
No one answered.
Because every gaze was locked on that radiant figure emerging from the smoke.
The "angel" strode forward, indifferent eyes sweeping across the villa's sinners.
A voice like the toll of a massive bronze bell echoed through the halls:
"You shall be judged!"
"Kill him!"
From the upper floor, Dedi screamed hoarsely, pointing at the figure. "He's just a Devil Fruit user! Stop pretending to be some holy spirit!"
Ren ignored him completely, his voice cold and commanding.
"Atone in blood—Hammer of Judgment!"
BOOM—!
The floor cracked beneath his step as the radiant "angel" charged forward, power erupting.
With a single punch, everything ahead was obliterated.
Flesh, bone, and stone were crushed together as the shockwave of the blow filled the hall with killing intent.
The terrifying might of D-rank Strength manifested in full.
"Kill him!"
The outlaws screamed, firing muskets and cannons wildly.
Ren paid no heed—he advanced, struck, advanced again, and struck once more.
Each golden punch, imbued with berserk power, crushed living men and weapons alike into pulp that splattered against the white walls.
The blinding red spread like paint, turning the villa into a canvas of death. The screams were the background music.
Cannon fire roared a few more times—only to be silenced when Ren's golden hand crushed the barrels into scrap metal.
Swords and daggers clashed against the radiant armor, only to leave ripples on its surface.
They can't even pierce it!
"Death! The Reaper's here! This is our punishment!" someone wailed, fleeing toward the door—only to die screaming moments later.
Those who dropped their weapons and begged for mercy met the same fate; Ren seized them and smeared their bodies against the walls.
One by one, the cries faded, leaving only deathly silence.
Within the villa, only two survivors remained—plus the "angel" who had come to deliver judgment.
When Ren ascended to the third floor, he found a well-dressed middle-aged man kneeling before him, trembling uncontrollably. Beside him was an elderly man, similarly dressed.
"D-don't kill me! Whatever you want, I can give it to you!"
Dedi's teeth chattered so hard they sounded like they were fighting each other, a reflection of his sheer terror.
Attacked without warning. Utterly crushed without reason. Now forced to his knees in defeat.
He didn't even understand what had happened before his life was on the line.
Why... why is this happening?!
"I want everything."
Ren's voice rang like a tolling bell, devoid of emotion.
"A-all of it?" Dedi stammered, sensing a sliver of hope. "That's impossible. I don't know who you are or what you want, but the Shell Company is backed by the Don Krieg Pirates!"
"Do you know Krieg? He commands thousands of men and dozens of ships! I work for him! If you take everything, I won't be able to answer to him—I'll die either way! How about this—"
Before he could finish, Ren turned to the older man.
Once again, that bronze-bell tone echoed:
"I want everything."
"Yes! Yes, we can talk—anything you want!"
The steward screamed, his voice breaking. "We can negotiate—just the two of us!"
"We? You and me?"
"Yes!"
(End of Chapter)