Shendu was furious.
He'd sat at the bar like a model customer, drinking in peace, barely breathing too loud—
and the first thing that brute did was kick him?
Because I look like a harmless middle-aged man?
That gives you the right?
The demon's scarlet eyes locked onto Blackbeard's crew. Killing intent poured out of him, thick and palpable—vile, imperious—crushing their courage to run.
"C-Captain… w-what is he?" Burgess stammered, knees knocking.
Blackbeard didn't answer. A primitive terror crawled up his spine, the kind that strips swagger bare.
In that instant, the grin left his face. He wilted.
"I… I apologize," he forced out, each word bitten off. "My men meant no offense. Please forgive the slight."
Ron's voice was mild. "Shendu. No fighting inside the tavern."
Shendu inclined his head and pulled his aura back into his chest.
He understood perfectly. No brawling in the tavern. Outside… different story.
"We'll go. Now." Blackbeard stood, vowing silently: until he reached that level, he would never set foot in this bar again.
No—he wouldn't even step into Area 12.
"Hold it," Ron said gently.
Blackbeard froze and turned, pasting on a smile. "Is there… anything else?"
The "ordinary man" listened to Ron; that alone made the barkeep far more dangerous than he looked. Since eating the Dark-Dark Fruit, Teach had valued his life above everything. He had no intention of dying nameless in this place.
"The drinks are already served," Ron said. "Finish them before you leave. And… since you tried to shake me down, I suppose it's my turn. Five million Berries a bottle. Not too much, right?"
Blackbeard's face went black.
Five million… per bottle?
If you weren't a bartender, the sea is missing a born pirate.
He swallowed his pride. Under the tavern's quiet menace, the four pirates trudged back to their stools. Having learned their lesson, they didn't chug. They sipped.
It didn't help. Even with tiny mouthfuls, the liquor cut like knives all the way down.
An hour later, eyes watering, they set their empty bottles down.
"Payment, please," Ron smiled. "Four bottles—twenty million total."
The crew traded looks, then piled everything onto the counter. When it still wasn't enough, Blackbeard stripped off rings and chains with a pained grimace.
"Boss… that's all we've got."
"Forget it," Ron waved. "Times are tough for pirates. Go."
Relief crashed over them. They didn't think—they bolted.
"Boss," Shendu said, rising slowly, "they've left the tavern."
"Kill them if you like," Ron replied, calm as ever. "But don't harm civilians. Best to pick an empty spot."
If Teach had just drunk quietly and left, Ron would've let it be. Ace and Rayleigh's grudges weren't his. But once a gun's at your head, the ceremony demands a sacrifice.
And the only reason Ron hadn't acted himself was simple: he doesn't break his own rules.
Just then, Rem and Ram came dashing in from the back, eyes bright with anticipation. Since gaining their powers, they'd had no chances to really stretch.
"Go," Ron told them. "And be careful."
"Okay, Master!" The twins dove into his arms like swallows and then, with Shendu, vanished into the night.
Somewhere on a flat plain, far from the bar
When no one gave chase, Blackbeard finally stopped. His legs turned to jelly, and he collapsed, gasping for air. The others dropped beside him. From door to field, they hadn't dared look back—half expecting Ron to appear with a blade.
"Captain," Burgess puffed, punching the sky, "why are we scared of him? If we throw down, who says we lose?"
Teach's face darkened.
You muscle-headed idiot. You might not fear death—I do.
Seeing the others still bristling, he exhaled slowly. "Use your heads. If that man listens to the barkeep, then imagine the barkeep's real power."
"Remember this," he growled. "Everything is decided by fate—but no matter what corner fate shoves you into, you live to the next second. Live, and you can pay the world back."
Recognition—and horror—finally dawned in their eyes. Lucky they hadn't swung first back there, or they might never have learned how they died.
And then the temperature spiked.
Heat rolled across the plain. Up above, the night split with a gorgeous bloom of light that erupted like fireworks before plunging toward the earth.
Ram hovered in the distance, a sphere of flame swelling between her palms. Below, waves of fire raced outward across the grass.
High overhead, Shendu hung in the air. His red pupils glinted—and then flashed gold.
"It's Akainu's Meteor Volcano! Run!" Blackbeard shouted.
Too late.
Two lances of searing eye-beams ripped from Shendu's gaze, crossing the distance in a heartbeat.
BOOOOM—!
Explosions tore the ground open, flinging the pirates like rag dolls.
And the "fireworks" falling from the sky revealed their true form—
magma meteors.
Rem had watched Akainu use the technique. Her version lacked a fleet admiral's apocalyptic punch, but coverage? It was a carpet of hell.
KRAK-KOOOOOM!
The plain became a sea of molten rock, the flames chewing everything to cinders.
Ram's completed fireball screamed earthward, slamming toward the spot where Blackbeard's men struggled to rise. Overhead, Shendu's "eyes" raked the battlefield, carving molten trails; from above, Rem's meteors rained down without mercy.
That night, the entire Sabaody Archipelago shook.
Elsewhere on Sabaody
Residents spilled into streets, faces chalk-white, staring toward the blooming inferno.
"Is Ace fighting Admiral Akainu again?!"
"Don't stand there—run! Gods fight, mortals die!"
"Earthquake—move! If one of those things hits us, we're done!"
At home, mid-"farm work," Rayleigh heard the roar, hitched his pants up in a panic, and sprinted outside.
Back at the tavern, Ron sat in the doorway, watching the crown of fire on the horizon.
"If Blackbeard walks away from that," he said, "then luck really did pick him."
In his arms, Yoruichi lifted her head, tail flicking in irritation.
"Whether he lives or dies, I don't care," she yawned, "but you are interrupting my beauty sleep."
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