"Wait."
Rob Lucci, who had been silently standing in the corner, suddenly spoke. His sharp eyes fell on Ryan as he reminded him, "You should understand what killing a Celestial Dragon means. If a Celestial Dragon dies here, the Buster Call, Marine Admirals, and even higher-level forces will spare no effort to erase you from the seas."
"So what?" Ryan merely glanced at Lucci, his expression indifferent. "They're nothing but trash who rely on privilege to throw their weight around. Anyone who gets in my way—whether it's a Marine Admiral or anyone else—I'll kill them one by one, or wipe them out in groups. If the World Government wants to target me, they're welcome to try."
One of the core purposes of the World Government's establishment was to protect the privileges of the Celestial Dragons. Killing a Celestial Dragon was a direct provocation to the World Government—Ryan understood this perfectly well. But as he had said, so what? He would simply kill anyone who came for him.
This wasn't blind arrogance, as if he thought Marine Admirals or the World Government were garbage. Rather, he simply didn't care. If he couldn't win, he would run. If he couldn't escape... then so be it. At worst, it would cost him his life.
Expecting him to swallow his pride was absolutely impossible. The once "cowardly" Ryan had long since died on the "Floating Island."
Rob Lucci stood in place, his pupils slightly contracting as he watched Ryan's fearless expression in the face of the "World Government's threat." For some reason, he felt a faint sense of admiration stirring within him.
In his experience, countless people were so terrified by the Celestial Dragons' "divine status" that they groveled, lacking even the courage to look a Celestial Dragon in the eye. Yet the man before him was declaring in the most straightforward manner that "the strong need not fear privilege."
This dismissive indifference, this resolute determination to "kill gods if they stand in his way, slay buddhas if they block his path"—this was the aura a true powerhouse should possess.
"You dare kill me!" At this moment, Saint Charlos on the ground realized he had encountered a madman and roared hysterically, "The Buster Call will tear you to pieces! The Marine Admirals will come immediately, and you won't even have a place to run!"
As he spoke, Saint Charlos seemed to finally regain the "confidence" of a Celestial Dragon. His voice suddenly rose, carrying a hysterical excitement: "And the Five Elders! My father will personally request an audience with the Five Elders! They will make you and everyone around you pay for what you've done today! You'll be nailed to crosses in Mary Geoise, so the whole world can see what happens to those who offend the descendants of gods!"
Ryan couldn't be bothered to pay any more attention to Saint Charlos' ravings. He turned to Rob Lucci beside him, a playful smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "Rob Lucci, if you step in to protect this trash now, you might even earn credit for 'saving a Celestial Dragon' and return to the World Government's embrace."
"I'm no match for you. Intervening would be futile."
Rob Lucci's eyes showed no fluctuation as he calmly met Ryan's gaze. He glanced down at Saint Charlos, his tone even. "Even if I wanted to return to the World Government, I would do so through my own strength, honorably—not by using underhanded methods like 'currying favor with Celestial Dragons.'"
His words were firm and unwavering. For Rob Lucci, "a powerhouse's dignity" was far more important than "returning to the World Government." Pleasing others held no value to him.
A Celestial Dragon who only knew how to throw his weight around—this was even more unacceptable to him than losing to Ryan.
Hearing this, Ryan chuckled softly and withdrew his gaze from Rob Lucci, redirecting it to the still-trembling Hancock. With a slight exertion of force, he guided Hancock's arm forward, pressing the tip of the Seven Star Sword against Saint Charlos's heart.
"Come on," Ryan murmured softly. "Don't be afraid. He's nothing but a worthless piece of trash who relies on his status. Just a gentle push, and this sword will pierce his heart."
Hancock's body stiffened abruptly, her hand gripping the sword hilt trembling violently. The force from Ryan's hand continued to press forward, yet Hancock's arm felt as if it were weighed down by lead—not only did it refuse to advance, but it instinctively shrank backward.
This wasn't resistance toward Ryan; it was a fear rooted deep in her bones. Memories of the Celestial Dragons' unrestrained mockery and abuse, the humiliation of the "Hoof of the Flying Dragon" branded on her back—countless recollections flooded her mind, making it difficult to even breathe.
"No... I can't..." Hancock's eyes reddened instantly, her voice trembling. "I can't do it... I really can't!"
It wasn't that Hancock didn't want to end it all, but facing the symbol of the "Celestial Dragons," her body had long developed an instinctive fear response. Even if the person before her was a lamb to the slaughter, she lacked the courage to resist.
The Pirate Empress's strength and the Kuja's Haki were beyond question. With her world-renowned beauty and the power of the Love-Love Fruit, few on the seas could truly overpower her. Back then, Ryan's swift victory had relied on Hancock's carelessness and a clever trick. If they were to face off openly now, he would have little confidence in winning.
Yet here, before this worthless individual who wasn't even a match for an ordinary soldier, she couldn't even muster the thought of resistance.
"Let me help you."
Ryan raised an eyebrow, his gaze indifferent, as he reached out and gently pressed against the small of Hancock's back, pushing her forward. Hancock stumbled abruptly, her body lurching uncontrollably, her hand gripping the Seven Star Sword thrusting forward along with the motion.
With a "thud," the sharp blade pierced Saint Charlos's heart without resistance, the tip emerging from his back, dripping with warm blood.
Saint Charlos's roar was cut short. Beneath the bubble helmet, his eyes widened instantly, filled with unbelievable terror. He opened his mouth, trying to say something more, but could only exhale a breath tinged with bloody foam. His body twitched twice before falling completely still.
The corridor plunged into dead silence, broken only by Hancock's ragged panting.
Rob Lucci stood in the corner, his sharp pupils contracting slightly, a wave of indescribable shock stirring within him. Daz Bones's forehead beaded with fine cold sweat as he slowly released his grip on Saint Charlos. The obese body slumped to the ground like a deflated balloon, blood gushing from the wound in its chest.
Hancock remained frozen in her forward-leaning posture until Saint Charlos's body went completely limp. Only then did she seem to have all the strength drained from her, her legs giving way beneath her.
Her legs went weak, and she collapsed heavily to the ground. The Seven Star Sword slipped from Hancock's trembling hand, clattering onto the floor with a metallic ring. Her gaze was fixed blankly on the fallen Saint Charlos, on his chest that no longer rose and fell. Her mind went completely blank.
Death.
She had truly killed a Celestial Dragon. Just as Ryan had said, these so-called "descendants of God" were merely flesh and blood after all—they could bleed, they could die.
Ryan bent down to pick up the Seven Star Sword from the floor, calmly sheathing it at his waist with a practiced motion. With a soft click, he looked down at Hancock sitting paralyzed on the ground, a familiar smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. "I didn't lie to you, did I? Killing trash is quite simple, isn't it?"
Hearing his voice, Hancock slowly lifted her head to look at Ryan. The usual cold arrogance had vanished from her exquisitely beautiful face, and when her gaze settled on Ryan standing over her, her deep blue eyes flickered.
In the past, faced with Ryan's controlling, teasing demeanor, she would have immediately frowned and resisted this feeling of being mocked.
But now, that familiar sense of disgust failed to surface in her heart. Instead, an indescribable warmth quietly spread through her. Watching Ryan calmly sheathe his sword, seeing his indifferent attitude that treated Celestial Dragons as worthless weeds, she suddenly felt that this man who controlled her possessed an inexplicable charm.
"Captain," Daz Bones stepped forward at that moment, "what should we do now?"
"What else can we do?" Ryan withdrew his gaze from Hancock and glanced indifferently at the thoroughly dead Saint Charlos on the ground. "We're leaving. First, we'll retrieve the 'merchandise' from the backstage, then set off immediately for Fish-Man Island."
Having killed a Celestial Dragon, pursuit by the World Government was inevitable. Sabaody Archipelago was too close to Marine Headquarters—once the news spread, warships and Admirals would gather immediately.
Ryan never denied his capricious nature, but he wasn't foolish enough to gamble his life on whether the World Government would react instantly.
"Not swallowing insults" was for the sake of following his heart, while "preserving his life" was to continue following his heart. In Ryan's eyes, these two had never been in conflict.
Just as Ryan was about to tell the paralyzed Boa Hancock to get up, his heart jolted. His previously relaxed body instantly tensed as he looked toward the end of the corridor, his right hand instinctively moving to rest on the hilt of the Seven Star Sword at his waist.
"An uninvited guest has arrived!"
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