(Sorry the chapter was deleted, re-upload)

It hadn’t taken long at all.

Tachibana Kyūjō had already found the hideout of the slavers—a run-down old tavern perched at the edge of Loguetown’s western district, its flickering lanterns casting drunken shadows across the cobblestone road.

He located it without even trying.

His enhanced senses, honed through Total Body Breathing from his time in the Demon Slayer world, allowed him to pick up the life auras inside the building like sonar pulses dancing across the sea.

Even before stepping inside, he knew—

Stealth was no longer an option.

But one question still lingered.

Among the dozens of rowdy drunkards inside… who were the real criminals? Who was just an unlucky passerby in the wrong place at the wrong time?

Or worse…

What if every single person in there was part of it?

Kyūjō exhaled quietly, hand tightening around the hilt of the oversized blade slung across his back—so massive it nearly towered over his short frame.

Closing his eyes, he fine-tuned his breathing… and sharpened his perception.

He didn’t just sense presence. He read the rhythm of each heartbeat, the pace of every breath, the stress in their muscles—the fine vibrations of life itself.

Everything flowed into his mind like a map of shifting tides.

As expected, most of them were low-level pirates. Likely new to the Grand Line, still leaning on two-and-a-half years of raw physical training and reckless ambition.

But one man stood out.

Yomera.

A hulking brute whose body radiated pressure far beyond what a regular human could generate.

Kyūjō could feel it—thin traces of Busoshoku Haki clinging to his muscles like oil on water. His physique was unnatural… distorted, like a failed experiment.

He wasn’t just strong.

He had crossed the threshold of death once and clawed his way back through sheer will. If Kyūjō had to compare, this man was on par with a low-tier demon from the Kimetsu no Yaiba world.

(Kyūjō’s private note: “People in this world already have the stats of mid-tier cultivators… what kind of monsters live at the top?”)

Still… raw strength didn’t equal power.

If Yomera was truly that formidable, why was he holed up in Loguetown running a filthy slave ring?

Kyūjō didn’t have the answer. And honestly, he didn’t care.

He stepped forward.

Then—

He activated Full-Body Breathing.

“Inhale…”

Brilliant streaks of gold and electric blue shot from his lungs, flooding his veins like lightning. Every blood vessel lit up with focused power as he slid into a hyperstate of inner control—Total Body Breathing, the technique he’d refined in the demon world.

Then—

Boom.

The tavern doors exploded into splinters.

A shockwave rippled through the room as shattered wood and choking dust burst inward.

No warning. No dialogue.

Kyūjō vaulted through the doorway like a phantom, his massive blade already arcing overhead, eyes locked onto one target—

Yomera.

He didn’t care who was innocent or guilty anymore.

He would cut this bastard down first. If anyone tried to protect him? They could die too.

Simple as that.

— — —

Yomera blinked.

A kid?

Some scrawny brat, barely as tall as his chest, had just burst in like a cannonball—swinging a sword big enough to split a ship.

But that face…

There was something vaguely familiar about it.

His body reacted before his brain could.

Yomera lunged sideways, rolling over a table in a desperate dive.

Too slow.

The blade missed his spine—but not by much.

A deep gash ripped across his back, shredding flesh and muscle like wet paper. Blood sprayed in a wide arc across the walls.

“WHAT ARE YOU IDIOTS DOING?! KILL HIM!!”

Yomera’s howl of pain rang out as he crawled into the middle of the room, clutching his side.

His men finally stirred.

The rookie pirates he’d spent years training—wannabe pirates chasing delusions of greatness—scrambled to respond.

Swords were drawn. Guns cocked. Panic erupted.

Kyūjō didn’t hesitate.

He pivoted sharply, lunging toward the men raising pistols.

He knew their kind.

Swords could never touch him—but bullets? All it took was one lucky shot to a blind spot, and this would be over.

In a single sweeping slash, Kyūjō’s blade bisected the first gunman cleanly.

Blood fountained into the air like crimson rain, soaking the tavern floor in sin.

Without looking back, Kyūjō reversed his grip, rotated his wrist, and slashed backward—

—right into the pirate creeping up behind him.

Steel stopped cold.

So did the man’s heart, impaled before he could even scream.

Short breath. Calm focus.

Then—

“Thunder Breathing, First Form… Thunderclap and Flash – Sixfold.”

In a blink—

A golden arc split through the tavern, flashing like a bolt straight from the heavens.

In that one instant—

Six heads flew through the air.

Their bodies hit the floor like marionettes with cut strings, collapsing in unison.

The tavern descended into chaos.

People screamed. Some ran. Some fired. Others froze in place.

But Kyūjō stood between them and the only exit.

His blade gleamed with death.

And his voice rang out like fire through the smoke:

“YOU WERE GOING TO SELL ME TO SOME STINKING NOBLE?”

His eyes burned like twin embers.

“YOU’RE ALL GARBAGE. YOU DESERVE TO DIE!”

“Burn in hell, you lowlife scum.”

He stepped forward.

Every footstep left a bloody trail. Over overturned tables, shattered chairs, spilled drinks. The walls, the floor, the ceiling—bathed in red.

They didn’t even feel the pain.

That was the only mercy Kyūjō gave them.

A quick, clean death.

And with one final arc—

Yomera’s head rolled to the ground.

The tavern fell into silence.

Kyūjō flicked his blade, sending a crimson arc of blood splashing against the ruined wall, then sheathed it without a word.

His small frame moved lightly across the now-silent room—like a shadow from the old samurai legends.

Once he confirmed there were no life signs left… he stopped holding back.

This place wasn’t just a hideout.

It was their home base.

None of them were innocent.

— — —

Within five minutes, Kyūjō had looted the entire stash of Berries from the slavers’ safe room.

He hoisted a sack of coins over his shoulder and walked calmly back toward his modest little house hidden away in Loguetown.

As he strolled through the quiet alleyways, he muttered to himself:

“I didn’t come here looking to slaughter anyone… but you guys just didn’t know when to quit.”

— — —

Meanwhile, in another corner of the city…

Deep within the red-light district of Loguetown, a young woman was brushing her hair in front of a mirror, getting ready for the night’s performance.

Her name was Aisha Asiri.

To the locals, she was a dancer—beautiful, elegant, and mysterious. The rising star of the past few months.

But that name, that smile, that career…

All of it was a lie.

Aisha Asiri, in truth, was a covert intelligence officer from CP9, the shadowy intelligence agency directly under the World Government.

Her current mission was delicate—and dangerous.

Investigate the rumors that Portgas D. Rouge, the wife of the Pirate King Gol D. Roger, had once resurfaced in Loguetown.

If the reports were true…

Then somewhere, the bloodline of the Pirate King still lived.

The Gorosei would not allow such a threat to continue.

— — —

That night, Loguetown was unusually loud.

But Aisha, with her connections and intel network, had already heard the news far before the Marines or city officials did.

Before dawn even broke, she had a detailed report in her hands.

“Early this morning, two mass murders occurred in the west market district.”

“Number of dead: 58. No survivors. No witnesses. Most died from single, clean slashes. Estimated that all victims were killed by a single individual.”

Evaluation: Sword expert. Possible user of Kenbunshoku Haki – basic level.”

Aisha frowned.

When did Loguetown have someone like that?

And more importantly…

Why now?

Was this really just a gang war?

Or was there something bigger lurking beneath?

She didn’t have the answer yet.

But one thing was clear—

Whoever this person was… they might get in her way.

After a brief moment of thought, Aisha made her decision.

She would head to the scene herself.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The novel has finally reached Volume 2 🎉

Thank you so much for following the journey this far—it truly means a lot!

✨ If you’d like to continue reading ahead, Volume 2 is already fully available on Patreon, and we’re getting very close to the end of this volume. That means Volume 3 is just around the corner! ⚔️🔥

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🔗 [patreon.com/FaaanzKun]

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Let’s keep this adventure alive, together chapter by chapter! 💖🔥

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep