The corpse of the pirate Ronan had just slain hadn't even hit the ground yet.
The next instant—
Every pirate nearby snapped their gaze toward him in unison.
That look wasn't rage.
It was fear.
They had seen it with their own eyes: a companion they all acknowledged as "pretty strong" had been killed in a single strike by an unfamiliar young man.
He hadn't even had time to react.
This kind of lethality far exceeded the petty bullying they usually inflicted on townsfolk.
So they all subconsciously took half a step back, gripping their weapons tighter—yet not a single one dared to rush forward.
—They were pirates, not idiots.
They were experts at tormenting civilians, but facing a real killer?
That was a completely different matter. After all, you only got one life.
Soon, their gazes converged in the same direction.
Toward—their captain.
He was a man built like an iron tower.
Over two meters tall, muscles coiled around his limbs like thick cables, resembling a ferocious humanoid beast.
In his hand was a broad-backed great saber, its blade polished to a gleam, emitting a chilling sheen.
His eyes were cold and violent, brimming with bloodthirsty savagery.
The moment he noticed Ronan, a cruel curve tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Like a predator locking onto its prey.
He raised the massive saber and pointed it at Ronan from afar.
"Hey, brat—state your name."
In that instant, all the pirates fell silent.
It wasn't courtesy.
It was a ritual—
A ritual pirates performed before killing someone.
Ronan looked at them calmly, his gaze indifferent.
His eyes swept past the pirates and finally settled on their captain.
His tone was cold and hard.
"Ronan."
The pirate captain paused.
Then he turned to his right-hand man.
"Oi. Ever heard of a bounty hunter named Ronan?"
The deputy narrowed his eyes, sizing Ronan up and down, his gaze filled with a pirate's trademark cunning and malice.
"No, boss."
"Not one of the bounty hunters we need to watch out for."
"Looks like… just some ordinary guy with a bit of skill, sticking his nose where it doesn't belong."
Hearing that, the tension in the captain's expression instantly eased by half.
His stiff shoulders relaxed, and a vicious grin slowly spread across his face.
His eyes, like those of a venomous snake, grew excited again.
—Wild dogs aren't dangerous.
—Which means they can be played with until they die.
He licked the corner of his mouth, his voice hoarse and violent.
"Oi, kid—meddling in other people's business gets you killed."
He suddenly swung his great saber, as if passing judgment.
"Men! Let him hear the name of the Ripped Sail Pirates!"
The pirates immediately roared:
"Our captain's got a bounty of three million two hundred thousand beli!"
"Three million! Do you even know what that means, brat?!"
"You dared to kill someone from the Ripped Sail Pirates—you're dead meat!!"
"Kneel and beg now, and you might still have a chance!"
Their clamor echoed throughout the town.
But Ronan merely stood there in silence.
The wind stirred the hem of his clothes, carrying with it the stench of blood and scorched earth.
There wasn't the slightest ripple in his eyes.
As if all that arrogant shouting and every single threat couldn't disturb his inner calm in the slightest.
The power brought by the triple cultivation multiplier surged through Ronan like a rising tide.
His bones trembled, blood ran hot, muscles tensed as if being reforged.
That sensation…
Clear. Real.
Ronan's breathing grew steadier, yet the light in his eyes burned ever brighter.
He couldn't wait.
He wanted to see just how much power this perfect body could unleash in this new world.
And these murderous pirates before him?
They were the perfect test subjects.
As for danger?
Ronan hadn't even given it a thought.
A martial artist walks a path of life and death by nature.
What's more—
To his sixth sense, these pirates' auras felt as flimsy as rotting cloth.
The only one worth any attention was the captain.
"Then I'll start with you."
Ronan exhaled softly and stomped his foot—
Boom!
Gravel exploded as his body shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow.
The wooden stick trailed behind him, his movements so fast they blurred into a shadow.
One pirate widened his eyes as he saw Ronan charging toward him, obvious fear surfacing on his face—
But before he could even raise his blade—
Ronan flicked his wrist. Power coiled down his spine, surged through his arm, and poured into the stick.
The tip tore through the air, detonating it with a sharp crack!
"Pshh!"
The wooden stick speared through the pirate's heart like an iron lance.
The force was so violent it lifted the man's feet off the ground.
Ronan snapped his wrist.
Vrrmm—!
The stick withdrew, dragging a gushing line of blood with it.
The pirate collapsed limply, never even managing a scream.
Before the corpse hit the ground—
Ronan's stick was already whirling like a dragon.
Power flooded it, stick-flowers exploding like a raging storm!
"Hah!"
The shadows of the stick lashed out like whips, like blades, like lightning ripping through the air.
Several pirates who had rushed in saw nothing but a storm of stick-shadows.
Then—
A chill brushed their throats.
Pshh—! Pshh—!
Blood blossomed into several scarlet flowers midair.
Clutching their necks, eyes filled with disbelief, the pirates crumpled to the ground.
Ronan lowered his body, tapped the ground with his toe, and leapt again.
Though airborne, his momentum was that of a tiger pouncing on prey!
He plunged straight into the crowd.
Shake or thrust;
Pierce or lift;
Every strike was ruthless, precise, and fast enough to drive despair into the heart.
Amid the crisscrossing stick-shadows, screams rose and fell, like a battlefield being turned by Death itself.
In just a few breaths—
Thud—!
"AAAH—!"
Half the pirates were down.
Either gravely wounded—or dead on the spot.
Under the firelight, blood pooled into thin streams across the ground.
Ronan stood amidst the scattered corpses, the wooden stick dripping with blood, like a truly awakened beast.
Just as he prepared to finish off the remaining pirate lackeys—
The violent aura he'd been wary of finally moved.
The captain of the Ripped Sail Pirates.
He could no longer hold back.
Watching his men fall like harvested grass, more than half wiped out in moments, the towering, muscle-bound brute completely lost control.
He abandoned any hope of wearing Ronan down through numbers and stepped forward himself, his feet slamming into the ground like a colossal beast, detonating the earth beneath him.
"Bastard brat—die!!"
Roaring, veins like coiled pythons bulged along his arms as he swung the great saber, carving a terrifying black arc through the air.
The next instant, he leapt high!
Cold steel flashed blindingly.
Carrying thunderous momentum, he descended from above, hacking straight toward Ronan's head!
Killing intent slammed forward like a wall.
Ronan's eyes flashed.
Xingyi's bursting force erupted!
The wooden stick trembled violently in his grip as power surged through it in an instant.
Facing the overwhelming saber light, Ronan smashed forward with a ferocious burst!
"—Crack!!"
A crisp, shattering sound ripped through the air.
The wooden stick in Ronan's hands snapped cleanly at two-thirds of its length under the monstrous force!
At the same time, the great saber let out a shocking hum, vibrating violently from the collision, nearly flying from its wielder's grasp.
The pirate captain's expression changed drastically, his grip going numb as he almost lost hold of the hilt.
"W-What kind of freak technique is that?!"
The sudden, explosive force only stoked his fury further—but it also planted a faint seed of fear.
Ronan was sent staggering back five or six steps as well, went flying" beneath his feet.
Blood seeped from his palm, his arm tingling with numbness.