Chapter 141: Not a Single Serious Person!
Ralph's bare upper body gleamed with a metallic sheen under the moonlight.
Zoro stood not far away, Wado Ichimonji already sheathed.
He felt that simply activating his Two Sword Style was sufficient.
Opposite them, the four Baroque Works agents looked pale.
But one among them clearly remained defiant.
"Stop bluffing, you brat!"
The muscular woman, Miss Monday, roared.
Her voice was coarse, and paired with her exaggerated muscles, it was indeed intimidating.
"So-called invulnerability must be some strange Devil Fruit ability! It's useless in the face of absolute strength!"
Before her words faded, she moved.
Instead of charging directly, she circled to the side of the square near a building, grabbing a wooden ladder leaning against the wall with both hands.
The ladder was over ten meters long, made of thick timber as wide as a bowl.
But in Miss Monday's hands, it became a terrifying weapon.
"Hah—!"
Her arm muscles bulged, veins popping, as she forcibly lifted the ladder.
The massive wooden ladder carved an arc through the air, whistling with the wind, and smashed viciously toward the back of Ralph's head!
The force of this strike was enough to shatter an ordinary person's skull.
Ralph didn't even turn around.
He simply raised his right hand casually and swung it backward.
The motion was effortless, as if swatting away a fly.
"Crack—!"
The crisp sound of wood breaking echoed clearly in the night sky.
The thick, bowl-sized ladder snapped in two the moment it made contact with Ralph's arm.
The front half spun away, crashing into a distant wall and shattering into splinters.
Miss Monday's pupils contracted sharply.
But she didn't stop, instantly closing the distance to Ralph.
Her right fist clenched, heavy steel knuckles covering her knuckles, gleaming coldly under the moonlight.
This punch aimed squarely at Ralph's temple.
"Die!"
The fist whistled through the air.
But Ralph finally turned around.
He watched the iron fist rapidly enlarging in his vision, his expression unchanged, as he threw a punch of his own.
No flashy movements.
Just a simple, straightforward punch.
Two fists collided.
"Thud—!"
With a dull impact, Miss Monday felt excruciating pain shoot through her knuckles.
The steel knuckles were now twisted and deformed, covered in spiderweb-like cracks.
Then, they shattered into over a dozen pieces, clattering to the ground.
"Impossi..."
Her words were cut short.
Because Ralph's left hand had already seized her wrist.
That hand clamped down like an iron vise, gripping her wrist bone.
Miss Monday tried to struggle but found her strength laughably insignificant in that grasp.
"Sorry."
Ralph spoke, his tone flat:
"Aside from Lufia, I have no interest in receiving punches from anyone else."
With that, he swung his arm.
Miss Monday felt the world spin.
Her body, weighing over a hundred kilograms, was flung like a ragdoll, tracing a parabolic arc through the air—
Flying straight toward Mr. 8 Igaram, who had just gotten up from the ground and was preparing to raise his saxophone shotgun.
"Wait—!"
Mr. 8 only managed to utter a single word.
"Boom!"
The two collided.
Miss Monday's weight combined with Ralph's Innate Physical Strength turned the impact into a disaster.
Mr. 8 was knocked dizzy, his saxophone flying out of his hand as he collapsed to the ground, completely unconscious.
Meanwhile, Miss Monday's momentum didn't slow—she continued flying forward—
and crashed straight through a stone wall.
Rubble tumbled, dust billowed.
When the dust settled, Miss Monday lay in the ruins, eyes rolled back, out cold.
Ralph shook his hand lightly, as if he'd just finished some trivial task.
He gazed toward the wreckage and murmured softly:
"It's different from the muscle strength you've trained through hard work."
After a pause, he added:
"Mine is… a gift from heaven—Innate Physical Strength."
He said it naturally.
But after speaking, even Ralph himself was taken aback.
He pondered the flavor of those words and felt he was becoming more and more like a villain in this world.
"Tsk."
He shook his head.
And so, Mr. 8 and Miss Monday, this Baroque Works duo, were taken down by Ralph in a single move.
Clean and efficient.
Over on Zoro's side, the fight had also begun.
His opponents were Mr. 9 and Miss Wednesday.
Ralph had no intention of helping.
He found a relatively intact stone step to sit on, poured himself a drink from a nearby scattered barrel, and leisurely watched the battle.
He knew that stepping in to help now wouldn't earn him Zoro's gratitude—in fact, it might even make him angry.
A swordsman had his pride.
But soon, Zoro began to show signs of impatience.
Two moves.
Just two moves later, he'd already lost interest in these two opponents.
Compared to the strength-based Miss Monday, Miss Wednesday's attack method… was downright comical.
First, she distanced herself and deliberately opened her coat.
Revealing her undergarments…
To be precise, revealing the complex pattern of circles within circles on the inner clothing.
"Miwaku no Memai Dance!"
Miss Wednesday began swaying her hips, performing a bizarre dance.
The circular pattern spun and wobbled with her movements.
Zoro: "..."
He hadn't intended to look.
But as a swordsman, he shouldn't fear any challenge!
Then…
"Whoa…"
Zoro felt a wave of dizziness.
The scenery in his vision began to spin; the circular pattern seemed to transform into a whirlpool, threatening to suck him in.
"Did I really fall for it?!"
Zoro was startled and thought about cutting himself to use the pain to snap out of it.
But Miss Wednesday had already seized the opportunity to attack.
She flipped onto the back of a strange, giant duck that had appeared out of nowhere.
"Run, Karoo!"
The duck quacked and began sprinting on its short legs.
Meanwhile, Miss Wednesday now held a uniquely shaped weapon—a sharp blade resembling a peacock feather.
She brandished the Peacock Slashers and charged toward… some inexplicable direction.
Zoro: "..."
What is she doing?
On the other side, Mr. 9 wasn't doing much better.
Holding two metal bats, he performed seven or eight consecutive somersaults in front of Zoro.
His movements were flashy, with aerial twists, and he struck a pose upon landing.
"Behold my ultimate move—Nekketsu Nine Konjo Bat!"
Then he charged forward.
As his opponent attacked, Zoro didn't dodge or evade. Instead, he thrust his sword repeatedly with one hand.
Mr. 9 immediately panicked, frantically swinging his two metal bats to block.
Zoro smiled faintly, feeling he had used both his swords too much.
Such an opponent couldn't even stir his desire to draw his blade.
He simply sidestepped, raised his foot, and delivered a simple sweeping kick.
"Thud."
Mr. 9 fell flat on his face, then felt his neck grabbed as he was flung into the air. With a crash, he tumbled into the distance.
Zoro sheathed his swords and sighed:
"That's it?"
He turned to look at Ralph, who was drinking, his face full of resignation:
"You're the lucky one. When it's my turn, none of the opponents are worth taking seriously."
Ralph raised his glass in acknowledgment:
"Good work."
But just then, something unexpected happened.
Miss Wednesday had somehow returned to the place where the banquet had been held earlier, where the Straw Hat crew had been entertained.
She jumped off her duck and quickly dragged out someone still asleep—Lufia.
"Don't move!"
Miss Wednesday pressed a gleaming, sharp knife against Lufia's neck and shouted at Zoro and Ralph:
"Drop your weapons! Or I'll kill your captain!"
Under the moonlight, the blade pressed tightly against Lufia's neck.
She was still asleep, mumbling "meat..." completely unaware she had become a hostage.
Zoro's expression darkened.
His right hand slowly gripped the hilt of his sword.
But someone was faster than him.
"Bang!"
A gunshot.
The knife flew away with the sound.