Arrogant to the Point of Stupidity

Mafia members love to brutalize those who cannot resist, watching the weak tremble under their violent intimidation; this trend runs rampant, with Capone Bege being the most notorious.

It makes them believe they are powerful, fostering an infinite sense of masculine confidence, constantly using acts of violence to flaunt their strength.

But now they are panicked, because they have encountered a violent group stronger than themselves; their confidence is collapsing, like a glass bottle that is strong on the outside but brittle within.

Conrad broke into the interior of that glass bottle and found it completely hollow.

After all, how could a human with true perseverance and long-term training be content to be a lackey in the Mafia, bullying the weak? Their core is nothing but cowardice.

Those who bully the weak will inevitably be bullied by the stronger, just as Conrad once beat up the wicked children, and now, for the first time, he is killing with the Heavenly Martial Killing Path.

"Scatter! Scatter! Don't give him cover!" Gotti shouldered his FT-G rocket launcher, unable to lock onto the target.

Slice! Tear! The sound of flesh and black suits ripping was like the movement of a cello being torn apart.

The Opera House had turned into a slaughterhouse, and the seats in the auditorium were occupied one by one by pale skeletons.

Conrad was like a fluttering bat, opening his Shark-Tooth Blood Claws to gnaw, his hair strands coiling like octopus tentacles.

The spider's legs had turned into an octopus, for the space between the hair strands was filled with blood sucked up every single moment, stained with a layer of blood-red so thick it could not be washed away.

Clang!

The sound of metal striking metal rang out.

Sparks exploded for an instant like flint.

It was the collision between the Shark-Tooth Blood Claws and the Dice-Dice Blade Arms.

Daz Bonez suddenly lunged from beneath a row of seats; he had predicted and aimed for the trajectory Conrad was taking toward his next target—a fast, accurate, and ruthless assassin's strike, aimed straight for the kill.

Yet, at the very last second, Conrad, who had been kicking out his legs to bisect the charging waist and abdomen, was on the verge of success.

Conrad suddenly reversed his muscle movement, retracting his legs, curling into a ball, and violently waving his twin claws to protect his body.

The light weight of the youth was merely knocked away and sent flying.

He happened to use the momentum to smash into a group of fleeing gangsters, his left and right claws each piercing a chest and pulling out hearts that were still beating.

One was pierced, turning shriveled in an instant like a straw sucking juice; the other was crushed, blood splashing into his dancing, viscous, bloody hair.

Daz's assassination had failed; this guy's sharpness exceeded his estimates. He suspected it might be Observation Haki, and since there was nowhere left to hide, he would have to go all out.

"You go chase the Marines; I'll handle him."

His soldier armor suddenly sprouted crisscrossing blades, which were cut into fragments and fell to the ground, exposing his sturdy chest tattooed with the black character "One."

That was the mark he had tattooed after the only failed mission of his assassin career, kept in his heart as a disgrace; he had never failed since.

Daz charged toward Conrad's blood cocoon—those few seconds where the opponent had to remain stationary. His forearms turned into rings of spiral blades, rotating at high speed like a chainsaw; this was his proudest killing move!

Spiral Draw Slash! He silently recited the name of the technique.

This time, the cocoon dispersed slower than before.

When the blood cocoon bloomed, draping into blood-red hair that hung down to his feet, Conrad's exposed physique was clearly several degrees stronger than before; his sleeves were stretched tight and had become too short.

His height had reached a massive one meter seventy!

The blood-red eyes branded on his dark face stared at Daz's spiral blades, and his long hair surged ferociously, dozens of strands interweaving and coiling.

Daz was made of steel from head to toe and felt no fear. Slash, slash, slash, slash. The sky-filling hair was shredded and drifted down like a rain of blood.

The life-star of the night sky, Ten Thousand Mile Slaughter, blinked, increasingly radiating the vitality of a living thing.

"Are you here to help me cut my hair? How nice." Conrad's voice sounded as if it were stuck together by blood.

A craving surged from his blood vessels, numbing him, making him unable to stop himself from rubbing his bones and twisting his limbs.

A craving—an incredibly exaggerated craving, like nicotine to a smoker or ice to an addict. The Heavenly Martial Killing Path urged him to obtain and satisfy this craving.

He would slaughter everyone he saw, maxing out his threshold, and then, when the threshold became too hungry to be satisfied, he would turn his hand against those closest to him.

Finally, when he had slaughtered everyone in the world who could be slaughtered, he would reverse his grip on the blade, plunge it into his own heart, and use his own life to obtain the ultimate, supreme pleasure.

This process was very happy. Conrad seemed to have come alive; every cell in his body was highly activated, and he mastered Life Return in a single thought.

A violent, cruel smile appeared on his face, and then, the "Shigan" of the Six Powers was thrust toward Daz through his pair of bloody, painful shark claws.

Although Baby-5's Weapon-Weapon Fruit was superior to the Dice-Dice Fruit, there was ultimately a gap in age and training time; it absolutely could not withstand the cutting.

Yet, despite this, Conrad still attacked, because he had ten-tenths confidence that those spiral blades could not touch his hands.

Amidst the entanglement of blood-red hair, he lunged before Daz's swinging arm.

As the opponent swung horizontally, slashing toward his chest, his heart beat violently; he stood on his toes, stepped on the ground, and turned his body sideways, letting the blade pass beneath his face.

Two bursts of fierce Haki were, at this moment, ejected from his feet via "Geppo," pushing him forward from behind.

"Shigan" plunged into Daz's collarbone and pectoral muscle, erupting with a deafening metallic ring.

Conrad had actually locked onto the neck, but the opponent's reaction was too fast, and he had tilted his head away.

The shark-tooth blood grooves didn't scrape out blood because Daz's collarbone had turned to steel, but ten indentations appeared on the metal.

Daz was injured. When the toughness of steel could no longer withstand being broken, blood would truly gush out, and that would be the moment he lost his life.

The assassin's instinct drove him to follow up with a vertical cleave, intending to shred Conrad from crown to face, but the airflow generated by his rotating blade...

To Conrad's Kami-e, however, it was a hurricane, forcing him to sway and dodge, roll to the side, and crouch low to the ground.

"Damn it, why can't I pierce this iron turtle! Am I really such a piece of trash? Gwah! Impossible! There's no way!"

Daz's skin was naturally dark, and his stern expression made him look as if he were constantly scowling. He already sensed the danger, but he was even more unable to comprehend why his opponent, who had wounded him without him landing a single blow, was still so furious.

Conrad's gaze was confused, then yearning, and finally locked onto Daz's Spiral Draw Slash. Like a child who had discovered a new toy, he raised his own claws, Haki erupting like blood-red flames, and began to rotate them slowly.

Daz realized his intent; he was mimicking the move he took such pride in—a technique that even a genius like him had spent five full years researching and creating, from the age of fourteen to nineteen.

This was a mockery of him, and even with his cold demeanor, he could not help but shout a challenge.

"You are learning my Spiral Draw Slash? Never mind that you lack my Devil Fruit ability; even if you had it, how could you possibly master it in an instant? Your arrogance has reached the point of stupidity!"

But Conrad only laughed, staring at his own claws and laughing, for he felt the opportunity—it was the Haki rotating, the activated cells spinning and grinding against one another.

He did not wait, for waiting was too slow. With blood-red eyes fixed on his target, he charged with murderous intent, his feet coiling power into the ground before he leaped toward Daz.

"How can a sparrow know the greatness of a Kunpeng!"

Feeling mocked, Daz's temper flared. Casting aside the silence of an assassin, he roared, "Have you prepared yourself for death? That suits me just fine! Come!"

He leaped high with his arms raised, his chainsaw spinning until it sparked.