Roger's Frustration

Roger stared intently at Dimon's posture.

It was definitely an Ancient Zoan, and not just any ordinary one. His hands, severed by Roger's sword moments ago, had already regenerated.

An Ancient Zoan with such a special ability could only be a Mythical Zoan.

"That's right, I'm an Ancient Zoan user who ate a Mythical Zoan fruit."

Dimon naturally wouldn't explain such a misunderstanding.

He flapped his wings, ascending again, and looked down at Roger from above.

Roger laughed heartily, "That's more like it! Getting instantly killed would be too boring!"

As his voice fell, he bent his knees and suddenly sprang up, shooting up over a hundred meters in an instant. The blade in his right hand slashed from lower left to upper right.

Dimon calmly flapped his wings, changing his position in the air.

While dodging the attack, he moved to Roger's side and then delivered a flying kick, his shoe slamming hard into Roger's cheek.

"Go down."

The kick, imbued with the power of a Demon, sent Roger crashing back to the ground with a boom, smashing into the sand.

Seeing this, the Trident Fish-Man couldn't help but stare, "Users who can fly are so unfair!"

Jabba gazed up at Dimon and said, "Reminds me of the Golden Lion. That guy could fly too, and with his aerial advantage, Roger couldn't do much against him."

The Man with a cigarette frowned, "His speed is incredible. He can easily dodge Roger's attacks even in mid-air..."

Unlike his astonishing speed, his offensive power seemed average.

Roger, back on the ground, got up clutching his face and laughed provocatively, "Doesn't hurt at all, rookie!"

"Oh really?" Dimon hovered in the air, a slight smirk on his lips, "Then what can you do?"

"How about this move?"

Roger raised his hand and slashed out with his sword, the sword energy erupting like cannonballs.

Dimon moved, easily evading it.

However, the next moment, more sword energy rained down like an endless curtain. While the destructive power of each individual sword energy was far less than before, their sheer number was overwhelming.

"Disaster!"

A barrage of shockwaves, Roger swung Ace like a whirlwind.

Dimon could dodge once, twice, five times, ten times, but every attack from Roger was a premonition of the future, each one predicting his movements.

In mid-air, a dark silhouette darted rapidly left and right, but was eventually hit by the sword energy.

Dimon covered his arms with Armament Haki and punched at the sword energy.

After breaking through, the next sword energy was already upon him, forcing him to alternate his punches.

Suddenly, Roger sprang up again, appearing behind Dimon with a surge.

"Hahaha, you go down!"

Taking advantage of Dimon blocking the sword energy, Roger gripped the hilt of his sword with both hands and slammed down with the back of the blade, hitting Dimon hard in the back.

"That won't do, you can't escape either!"

Dimon took the blow head-on, spitting blood as he plummeted. At the same time, his right arm suddenly detached, his fingers spread, and he grabbed Roger's face.

"What?"

Roger was stunned. He could detach his body?!

Immediately after, a force comparable to that of a giant surged through. The detached right arm, as if throwing a sandbag, grabbed him and swung him violently towards the ground.

Two figures, one in front and one behind, plummeted from the sky, finally smashing into a sand pit with a resounding boom.

For a moment, sand and dust billowed.

The members of the Roger Pirates watching from the sidelines were dumbfounded.

"It can do that too? What kind of Mythical Zoan is this?"

"It can heal injuries rapidly, fly, detach its limbs, and is fast. Besides its slightly mediocre attack power, it's just too well-rounded!"

"That's only by Roger's standards. Facing his attacks wouldn't be easy for an ordinary person!"

Everyone felt it was incredibly troublesome, and in the end, they could only describe it with two words:

"Monster!"

In the sand pit, the sand gradually settled.

Roger got up, clutching his face. As he looked up, he saw Dimon standing not far away. His detached right arm had returned to his body at some point.

If you think this book is good, remember to add it to your bookshelf so you don't lose it next time.

Seeing this, Roger simply threw Ace aside and grinned, "This is really tricky. How about this: you can't fly, and I won't use my sword. Let's just fight fair and square with our fists!"

Hearing this, Dimon also chuckled.

"What a shameless person," he thought. "He can fly, putting him in an almost invincible position. To ask him to give up that advantage? I can't believe he had the nerve to say that. Not a shred of integrity for a King-level expert."

However.

"Alright, let's add one more condition: you can't use Conqueror's Haki."

"Deal!"

Roger agreed without hesitation, and at the same time, he had already rushed towards Dimon.

Dimon strode to meet him, picking up speed as they approached, transitioning from a walk to a run. His Devil Fruit power wrapped around his right fist like threads.

The next moment, the two closed in, their fists slamming hard towards each other's faces.

Just then, a woman's shout echoed from the spectator stands not far away.

"You two, stop fighting!"

Suddenly, their fists halted inches from each other's faces.

Dimon and Roger turned their heads in unison. It was Gloriosa.

"Don't fight over me anymore. You can get along just fine."

What is this woman talking about?

Dimon wore a speechless expression. Roger's confusion only lasted a second.

Then, their fists swung out again.

"Dimon, eat this punch!"

"I'm the one who'll win, Roger!"

Their fists connected with each other's faces. One used his Devil Fruit power, the other used advanced Armament Haki.

The next second, both were pushed back half a step. After releasing the force, they attacked wildly again, their punches landing with solid impact.

Bang, bang, bang, bang!

Gloriosa sighed softly, covering her face. "Are you still going to fight? All over me..."

"Is there a possibility it has nothing to do with you?" Charlotte Linlin said, hands on her hips, unable to stand the woman's narcissism any longer.

"Who do you think will win?"

Gloriosa seemed not to hear her, gazing at the two men brawling. "What if the winner proposes to me? Should I accept? As a reward for the victor, I can only agree!"

Charlotte Linlin's fists clenched. She said irritably, "Dimon will definitely win. He's immortal!"

Noon.

Shakky's bar.

"Hahahaha, not bad, Dimon! You can actually trade a few blows with me. You live up to your reputation as a newcomer with a first bounty of 500 million!"

At the bar, Roger and Dimon slung arms around each other, drinking heartily.

Dimon glanced at him calmly. "What do you mean 'trade a few blows'? I won."

"No, I won. My fist hit you three hundred and seventy-three times!"

"Face reality. I'm not injured at all. Of course, I won."

"I hit you five times as often. I definitely won!"

Roger, unable to out-argue Dimon, turned his gaze to Shakky, who was pouring drinks, seeking help:

"Shakky, I won, right?"

Shakky smiled faintly, took a mirror from behind the bar, and placed it in front of Roger. "Take a look for yourself."

In the mirror, Roger's face was bruised and battered.

"Hahahaha, this one doesn't count," Roger said with a dry laugh. "I was just going easy. Let's call it a draw."

Damn it, this guy healed his injuries. Anyone looking would think he lost.

I clearly won!

Roger said dejectedly, "What kind of ability is that?"

Dimon smiled. "It's the Elixir of Immortality I brewed!"