"Thinking too much."
Only a fool would take an enemy's all-out strike head-on. Justice never applied to Ignyr—not his brand of it.
As the wind from a devastating roundhouse kick blew toward him, aiming for his cheek, Ignyr used Observation Haki.
Lucci's leg technique focused on power at the cost of speed. Under the piercing insight of Ignyr's perception, it was slow—like watching an old man try to sprint.
"Damn it!"
Lucci's eyes widened in shock. In the shrinking of his pupils, he saw Ignyr retreat effortlessly—dozens of meters in a blink.
Even from that distance, Ignyr could feel the residual force in the air and respect the sheer power behind Lucci's desperate strike.
But all it struck was air. The inertia spun Lucci around before he crashed to the ground with a resounding bang.
"Time to hit the road."
His faith shattered, his strength spent—Lucci collapsed like a dying insect.
As he lay there, gasping, the resistance gone from his body, Ignyr's expression dulled with disinterest.
Crushing what someone values most and sending them off with nothing but regret and powerlessness—that was revenge at its most effective.
"For a cheetah, what matters most are the legs."
Walking casually toward the fallen, hollow-eyed leopard-man, Ignyr used his foot to flip Lucci onto his back like a discarded pet.
Then, rotating his heel at the joint of Lucci's thigh, he struck hard at the base of his pelvis.
There was a sickening crunch—bones shattered, tendons tore—and Ignyr's entire foot sank deep into the muscle.
"Ahh—!"
Gone was the roar of a proud predator. The pain turned Lucci into a whimpering husk.
Boom—his heel pierced the stone beneath, driving the broken limb down. The leg twisted unnaturally, severed muscle, blood vessels, and bone turning to pulp.
Lifting his foot, a pool of thick, red plasma spilled into the cracked floor, mixing with shards of bone and tendon.
"And now for the other."
Without emotion, Ignyr stepped around and pressed down on the base of Lucci's other thigh.
His heel sank again, squeezing flesh and rupturing tissue. He looked down, clinical, almost like a surgeon at work.
The others in the room watched silently, basking in the horror like it was part of a feast. From time to time, Ignyr's gaze flicked toward Blueno.
Blueno had tried over and over to open a portal to escape, but his Devil Fruit ability had been suppressed by the dark power enveloping the room.
Fear had consumed him. The courage he once had was gone. All he could do was watch as his captain was butchered—paralyzed by terror.
"Don't hesitate. Just finish it."
With one last crack, the second leg separated. Ignyr turned his attention to the upper body.
Raising his blood-soaked foot, he planted it on Lucci's chest, applying just enough pressure to fracture ribs layer by layer.
With the final barrier gone, the heart underneath compressed and twisted under the pressure of his heel—flattening out.
And then—pop.
Like a kernel of corn bursting, the heart exploded. Blood sprayed from Lucci's chest, and his face froze in a final, contorted look of pain—tongue out, eyes bulging in despair.
"Don't kill me! Please—don't kill me!"
With Lucci's death, Blueno was the only one left. The room echoed with his trembling voice, the last plea of a broken man.
Despite being a seasoned fighter, he now sobbed like a frightened child, begging for mercy.
But then—he felt it.
A spark of energy, faint at first, wrapped around his body. Blueno's eyes widened in hope as he traced a circle in the air.
"Door Door—Open!"
The edges connected. A circular portal shimmered into existence.
Blueno lunged for it, stepping through the door with all the speed his body could muster. But just as he tried to shut it behind him, something caught it—
It wouldn't close.
No matter how many times he tried, the door bounced open, just slightly ajar.
Dread seeped into him. Cold sweat dripped as black tendrils—like a mass of slick, writhing hair—shot out from the shadows.
"Aaaa—!"
The whips lashed out, gagging his open mouth and cutting off his scream.
With a thunderous boom, the door exploded open—light pouring in—only to reveal Blueno, trussed up like a rice dumpling in those inky strands, being dragged back through.
The tendrils lifted him, dangling him like a helpless animal before Ignyr, the Avenger.
"You like opening doors so much? Then let me help you open them… permanently."
Frustrated by Blueno's repeated escapes, Ignyr had a new idea for execution.
Grabbing him by the nape, Ignyr carried the limp, defeated man toward a wall already cracked from battle.
Without a word, he slammed Blueno's head against the stone.
"L-let me go…"
Blueno's words slurred, his features distorted, nose crushed into his cheek, blood choking him.
But Ignyr didn't listen.
He slammed him again. And again. Bang. Bang. Bang.
The marble wall fractured and caved, carving a two-meter-wide dent with each blow.
Finally, Ignyr stopped.
He looked at what was left in his hand.
Blueno's head had caved in—plaster, blood, and bone blending into an unrecognizable mess. His face distorted beyond recognition, features scattered.
Ignyr let go. The corpse fell limp to the ground.
"First hope, then despair… now you understand how I felt."
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