At dawn on the fourth day, the shadows of countless bats swirling in the air gradually merged into a single form.
After reforming, Ryuma lightly stretched his neck, holding his black sword, Shūsui, with a faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
This time… those three—no matter how hard they try—would find it nearly impossible to escape Kaido's grasp.
Thinking this, he only sighed softly, too indifferent to say more. Step by step, he walked out. Now was the perfect moment to win hearts and minds.
…
"I'm so pissed off. Really, I'm furious!"
At that moment, Jack angrily slammed his fist against the ship's deck.
"Don't be so upset… how about we set sail? Getting angry won't solve anything," Quinn said calmly.
Just then, a sound came from the deck.
The unmistakable clack of wooden geta sandals.
The voice was familiar: "You guys… though all high-ranking officers under Kaido and the main pillars of the Beast Pirates, I have to warn you—if you try to go back to that crew now, you might just get torn apart."
Jack's eyes reddened. He drew his cleaver with a menacing glare and snarled at Ryuma, "What do you think? If it weren't for you bastard, who knows how well we'd be doing right now!"
Ryuma snorted coldly. "That was only a lesson to you… Now, I'm giving you one last chance. If you're willing to follow me, I guarantee your safety. If not, then… I'll gladly fight you."
He tightened his grip on Shūsui, his face icy and indifferent, barely acknowledging the three of them. At that moment—whether real or imagined—the three felt a powerful, overwhelming pressure emanate from Ryuma's body.
This pressure was the aura of an ancient warrior, not the color of Conqueror's Haki.
They glanced at each other, nearly brought to tears.
This time, they were truly trapped—caught between a rock and a hard place.
In front stood Ryuma blocking their way; behind loomed Kaido.
Taking a deep breath, Jin slowly stepped forward, shaking his head gently.
"Mr. Ryuma… I'm willing to join you, but… you've got to give me some time to respond. Besides, the three of us need to discuss this."
Hearing this, Ryuma nodded slowly. "Alright, I'll give you five minutes. No rush. But if you haven't made up your minds within that time, the consequences are on you."
With that, he plunged Shūsui into the ground.
At that moment, the ground beneath them began to crack, spiderweb-like fissures spreading rapidly.
Ryuma stared intently at them, feeling a flicker of restless irritation.
Though they were standing very close to him, their voices sounded like the faint buzzing of mosquitoes—utterly inaudible.
Ding dong, the system's cold voice echoed: "New task for the host! Defeat Black Carbon Orochi to earn three lottery chances!"
"What's this 'three lottery chances' nonsense?" Ryuma muttered.
But the next instant, a grin spread across his face.
If he really had three lottery chances, wouldn't he become a War God this time? It was almost unbelievable.
Now, all he could do was wait for the three of them to finish their discussion.