Pirate Crew with a Bounty of Three Million Belly

Ronan's kill—the pirate's body—had yet to hit the ground.

The next instant—

The gazes of every pirate around snapped toward Ronan.

It wasn't anger. It was panic.

They had seen it with their own eyes: a comrade they all acknowledged as "decently strong" had been killed in a single blow by a stranger.

He hadn't even had time to react.

This kind of killing power was far beyond the petty scuffles they used to bully the townsfolk.

So they all took half a step back, gripping their weapons tighter, but not a single one dared charge first.

—They were pirates, but they weren't fools.

They excelled at bullying commoners, but when faced with someone who could truly kill?

That was another matter entirely. After all, you only had one life.

Soon, their gazes all turned in one direction.

Toward—their captain.

He was a man built like an iron tower.

Over two meters tall, muscles coiled like cables around his limbs, a humanoid beast of prey.

In his hand, he gripped a broad-backed cleaver, its blade polished to a gleam, radiating a chilling light.

His eyes were cold, brutal, filled with bloodthirsty savagery.

The moment he spotted Ronan, the corner of his mouth curled into a cruel grin.

Like a predator locking onto its prey.

He raised his cleaver, pointing it at Ronan from afar.

"Hey, kid—state your name."

In that instant, all the pirates fell silent.

This wasn't politeness. It was a kind of...

A ritual before pirates killed.

Ronan looked at them calmly, his gaze cold.

His eyes swept over the pirates, finally landing on their captain.

His tone was hard and flat—

"Ronan."

The Pirate Captain blinked.

Then he glanced at his second-in-command.

"Hey, is there a Bounty Hunter named Ronan?"

The second-in-command squinted, sizing Ronan up and down with the cunning, icy shrewdness of a pirate.

"No, boss."

"He's not one of those 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 this, the Pirate Captain's previously tense expression relaxed by half.

His tight shoulders loosened, and a sneer slowly spread.

His eyes turned excited again, like a venomous snake.

—A stray dog wasn't dangerous.

—That meant he could toy with it to death.

He licked the corner of his mouth, his voice hoarse and savage:

"Hey, kid—sticking your nose in gets you killed."

He swung his cleaver sharply, as if pronouncing a fate:

"Boys! Let him hear the name of the Tattered Sails Pirates!"

The pirates erupted in roars:

"Our captain is a great pirate with a bounty of three million two hundred thousand Belly!"

"Three million! You get that, you brat?!"

"You killed a man of the Tattered Sails Pirates—you're dead!!"

"Kneel and beg for mercy now, and you might still have a chance!"

Their clamor echoed through the town.

But Ronan simply stood still in place.

The wind stirred the hem of his clothes, carrying the scent of blood and scorched earth.

His gaze held not a single ripple.

It was as if all this arrogant roaring, all these threats, could not stir even the faintest wave in the lake of his heart.

The power brought by the threefold Cultivation Multiplier surged through Ronan like a tide.

Sinews trembled, blood burned hot, muscles tightened as if reforged anew.

This feeling... was utterly clear, utterly real.

Power was growing at a speed invisible to the eye!

Ronan's breathing grew calmer and calmer, yet the light in his eyes blazed ever fiercer.

He could hardly wait.

He wanted to see just what kind of might this perfect body could unleash in this New World.

And these bloodthirsty pirates before him?

They were the most fitting test subjects.

As for danger?

Ronan never gave it a thought.

A Warrior's path was always one of life and death.

What's more—

Under his sixth sense, the auras of these pirates were as feeble as tattered cloth.

The only one who drew even a sliver of his attention was that Captain.

"Then I'll start with you."

Ronan exhaled in a low breath, his foot stomping down—

"Boom!"

Gravel flew in all directions, and his whole body shot forth like an Arrow Released from Bow.

The wooden staff trailed behind him, his movements so fast they were but a blur.

A pirate's eyes went wide as he saw Ronan charging, fear plain on his face—

But before he could even raise his blade, Ronan flicked his wrist, power coiling down his spine and through his arm into the staff.

The tip of the staff split the air, cracking with a sharp "pop"!

"Thud!"

The wooden staff, like an iron spear, pierced straight through the pirate's heart in an instant.

The force was so fierce that even the pirate's toes were jolted off the ground.

Ronan twisted his wrist.

"Wuum—!"

The staff withdrew, trailing a line of blood that Burst Forth.

The pirate's body crumpled, not even a scream escaping his lips.

Before the corpse even hit the ground—

Ronan's staff had already whirled into a Dragon.

Power poured in, the staff blossoms blooming wildly, like a furious gale!

"Ha!"

Staff shadows lashed like whips, like blades, like lightning splitting the air.

The nearby pirates saw only a blur of staff light.

And then—

A chill at their throats.

"Thud—! Thud—!"

Blood burst into the air in several scarlet blossoms.

Several pirates clutched their necks, disbelief in their eyes, collapsing to the ground.

Ronan dropped low, tapped his toes, and leaped again.

Midair, his momentum was like a Fierce Tiger pouncing on prey!

He plunged into the crowd.

Now a flick, now a thrust;

Or stab, or thrust;

Every strike was vicious, precise, and so fast it left one in despair.

Amid the crisscrossing shadows of the staff, screams rose and fell like a battlefield overturned by the Grim Reaper.

In just a few breaths—

"Thud—!"

"Ahhh—!"

Half of the pirates had fallen.

Either severely wounded or dead on the spot.

Under the flickering firelight, blood pooled into a thin stream across the ground.

Ronan's wooden staff dripped with blood as he stood amidst the carnage, like a truly awakened beast.

Just as Ronan prepared to finish off the remaining pirate underlings—

The violent aura he had been wary of finally stirred.

The captain of the Tattered Sails Pirates.

He could no longer hold back.

Watching his men being mowed down like grass, most of them slaughtered in an instant, the two-meter-tall, muscle-bound brute was utterly enraged.

He no longer hoped to exhaust Ronan's stamina through his underlings. Instead, he took a single step forward, his feet slamming into the ground like a giant beast's stomp, erupting with a thunderous boom.

"You damned brat—die!!"

He roared, his arms bulging with veins like pythons as he swung his greatsword, carving a terrifying black arc through the air.

The next instant, he leaped! The cold gleam of the blade was blinding.

With the thunderous momentum of a breaking gale, he descended from the sky, slashing straight down at the top of Ronan's head!

The killing intent rushed toward him.

A sharp glint flashed in Ronan's eyes.

The Collapsing Force of Xingyi erupted!

The wooden staff trembled violently in his hand, the force instantly surging through its length.

He met the terrifying, unmatched blade light and slammed into it with a fierce Collapsing Force!

"—Crack!!"

A crisp sound of breaking tore through the air.

The wooden staff in Ronan's hand was snapped cleanly at two-thirds of its length by the immense force!

Yet, the greatsword also let out a startling hum upon impact, trembling uncontrollably, nearly flying out of its wielder's grasp.

The pirate captain's face changed drastically, his Tiger's Mouth going numb, almost losing his grip on the hilt.

"Wha, what kind of weird move?!"

This sudden burst of force only stoked his fury, yet it also stirred a faint trace of fear within him.

Ronan, too, was knocked back five or six steps by the immense force, gravel scattering beneath his feet.

Blood seeped from his Tiger's Mouth, and his arm tingled slightly.