Luffy stood with his back to everyone, unfazed by the tension in the room.
He turned around with a bright grin, his teeth gleaming in the sunlight. There was a hint of foolishness in that smile, but also an unshakable determination.
"Hi there! I'm Monkey D. Luffy, the man who's going to become the Pirate King!"
He beamed with excitement, his eyes fixed on Nami. "You two should come sail with me!"
"Pirates?"
Nami's smile faded instantly.
Her face darkened as the word tore through her mind like a curse. That single word carried the weight of her hatred, her trauma, and the endless nightmare called Arlong.
"Watch out!" Nami suddenly cried. Her gaze darted past Luffy, locking onto the shadow behind him.
Luffy turned, sensing danger.
Don Krieg's face was twisted into a demonic snarl, his voice dripping with fury.
"If you won't listen, then don't blame me for being merciless!"
Flames burst from the cannon mounted on his shoulder.
Two massive shells, covered in razor-sharp spikes, shot through the air like arrows loosed from a bow.
Boom! Boom!
Luffy couldn't dodge in time.
The shells exploded against him, sending him flying like a broken kite.
He slammed into the wooden floor with a sickening crack, groaning in pain as smoke rose around him.
The spikes had torn through his defense, leaving trails of blood.
"Luffy!"
"Luffy!"
Zoro and Usopp shouted from the stairs, eyes wide with alarm.
"Ow! That hurts! That really hurts!" Luffy cried, clutching his chest and rolling on the floor.
Before his friends could reach him, Krieg swung the cannon again, this time aiming straight at Ron.
"If you refuse to obey, then die for me!" he bellowed.
"Once you're dead, your money will still be mine!"
He sneered, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You want to know why people die? It's because they don't hand over their Berries when they should!"
The next instant, two more shells erupted from the barrel, shrieking through the air toward Ron.
"Ron!" Nami screamed, rushing forward instinctively.
But Ron only sighed softly, his eyes filled with something that wasn't fear — it was pity.
A single thought flashed through his mind, calm and cold.
"To be human is to be kind… but those who interrupt my meal don't deserve to exist."
The twin shells roared toward him like the hands of death itself.
Then, something unbelievable happened.
Ron moved.
With a motion too fast for the eye to follow, he raised his arms.
One hand caught each shell in midair.
No explosion. No recoil. Just silence.
He stood there, holding the deadly projectiles like they were harmless toys.
Smoke curled around his fingers.
Ron examined the shells curiously, his eyes glinting with amusement.
Then, as if struck by a whim, he pressed them together.
A dull, heavy sound echoed through the hall.
The shells crumpled under his grip, as though crushed by an invisible godly force.
But there was no explosion, no shrapnel tearing through the air.
Only faint wisps of smoke slipped through his fingers, whispering away like embarrassed ghosts.
When the smoke cleared, what remained in his hands made everyone's jaw drop.
The shells' fragments had fused together, compacted into a single solid iron sphere.
It spun lightly between his fingers, as fluid and natural as if it were part of his body.
"He caught them... with his bare hands?"
"And crushed them into a ball?"
Even Nami, who had already witnessed Ron's terrifying strength back in Orange Town, couldn't hide her astonishment.
Her eyes shimmered with awe.
This wasn't just brute strength — it was control, precision, and artistry combined into one flawless motion.
Around them, silence hung heavy.
Every chef, every guest, even Zoro and Usopp stood frozen, mouths hanging open.
Zoro's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword.
The famed pirate hunter, who had faced countless battles, had seen men sliced, blasted, and crushed — but never this.
Even he couldn't imagine anyone catching a cannonball with their bare hands, let alone fusing two of them together.
"This guy… is he even human?" Zoro muttered, eyes twitching in disbelief.
Usopp didn't answer. His jaw was still somewhere on the floor.
Ron spun the iron sphere one last time, his gaze soft but cold.
"Farewell, Krieg."
His voice was quiet, almost gentle.
Then he flicked his wrist.
The iron sphere shot forward faster than sound.
Boom!
A sonic crack ripped through the air — the sharp, deafening sound of an object breaking the sound barrier.
The sphere slammed into Krieg's chest like divine punishment.
Krieg's eyes went wide, filled with shock and terror.
He couldn't believe what he was seeing.
His own weapons — caught, crushed, and turned against him.
He tried to speak, but the words died in his throat.
Pain exploded through his chest.
He looked down and saw the massive hole where his armor had been.
Blood gushed like a fountain.
His body trembled once, then went limp.
The self-proclaimed Warlord of the East Blue collapsed to the floor, lifeless.
For a long moment, no one moved.
Then gasps spread through the room like ripples on water.
Every eye turned toward Ron.
The iron sphere had torn straight through Krieg's chest and continued on, carving a path of destruction through the restaurant's thick walls before vanishing into the sea beyond.
The crowd stared in stunned silence.
Don Krieg, the tyrant of the East Blue, was dead.
"Krieg… he's… really dead?" someone whispered.
The words trembled through the air, disbelief giving way to awe.
"What kind of strength is that?"
"No one could do that… not even a Marine Admiral…"
"It's impossible."
"It's like watching a god."
The entire restaurant fell silent again, the weight of what they had witnessed pressing down on them.
And at the center of it all, Ron sat quietly at his table, brushing a bit of dust from his sleeve.
His expression was calm, his tone soft when he finally spoke.
"Now then," he said, turning to the stunned chefs. "About that food I ordered."