Red Light Flashed, Piercing Eyes Glared

Higuma's hand trembled.

It wasn't Parkinson's. It was the cellular terror a living creature felt in the presence of a natural predator.

His blade was clearly pressed against the neck of that brat in the Straw Hat. This should have been an absolute advantage.

Yet the eyes of the eight-year-old boy across from him were far too calm.

Higuma had only seen that kind of gaze on one type of person.

Not powerful pirates, nor iron-blooded Marines.

Butchers.

That was how a butcher looked at pork on a chopping block.

There was no anger, no pity, only a simple consideration: would the grain of the meat be right when the knife came down?

"Don't come any closer!"

Higuma roared, his voice cracking from extreme tension and sounding like a drake with its throat being squeezed.

"Take one more step, and I'll slit his throat!"

To prove he wasn't joking, Higuma tightened his wrist.

The sharp blade pressed into Luffy's neck.

Even a rubber man would still bleed when faced with a sharp blade.

A thin red line of blood slid down the blade.

Luffy squeezed his eyes shut in fright, his face smeared with tears and snot, yet he clenched his teeth and didn't dare make a sound.

If he cried out now, he would only distract Ace and Sabo.

Kahn stopped walking.

But he merely stopped.

His hands remained in his pockets, and the teasing curve at the corner of his mouth even widened slightly.

"Oh?"

"You still dared to make a move."

Kahn tilted his head slightly, as though he had discovered an amusing ant trying to raise a twig against a boot.

"It seemed your record of killing fifty-six people gave you quite a bit of blind confidence."

Higuma gritted his teeth as cold sweat from his forehead ran into his eyes, stinging fiercely.

"Cut the crap!"

"I'm a great pirate with an eight-million Beli bounty!"

"Prepare a ship for me, and give me another ten million Beli!"

"Otherwise, all three of these brats die!"

Driven into a corner.

The bandit leader finally tore off his disguise, revealing the fangs of a desperate outlaw.

Ace, lying on the ground, dug his fingers into the gaps between the floorboards.

His nails tore back, blood dripping everywhere.

But he couldn't feel the pain.

There was only an overwhelming sense of humiliation.

So in this world, being weak truly was a crime.

The crime of dragging down his brothers.

Kahn sighed.

This was really boring.

Even third-rate TV dramas didn't bother with such low-level extortion plots anymore.

"No ship."

"No money either."

Kahn raised his eyelids. Deep within those black pupils, two red lights flickered faintly.

"But I can give you two choices."

"First, chop off that hand yourself, then get lost."

"Second."

Kahn paused, and a trace of chill entered his voice.

"I'll help you take apart every bone in your body, one by one."

Higuma froze for a moment.

Then he burst into hysterical laughter.

"Ha ha ha ha!"

"I think you're insane!"

"If you don't want to live, then we'll die together!"

A vicious gleam flashed in Higuma's eyes.

Since they couldn't reach an agreement, he would kill the hostage.

He had survived in the East Blue for so many years by relying on this ruthlessness.

The blade suddenly pressed downward.

There was no hesitation whatsoever.

He truly intended to kill Luffy.

Ace shut his eyes in despair.

"Luffy—!"

However.

The anticipated sound of blood spraying never came.

Instead, the air filled with the smell of something burning.

"Sizzle—"

Like a blazing-hot branding iron being pressed into cold water.

Higuma felt a piercing pain shoot through his palm.

The steel blade in his hand, cold just moments ago, turned bright red in an instant.

Its temperature was terrifyingly high.

It was like an iron bar freshly pulled from a steel furnace.

"Aaaah!!!"

Higuma screamed and instinctively let go.

The long blade, already slightly warped from the heat, fell to the floor with a clang.

It scorched a black burn mark into the wooden floorboards.

Smoke still rose from it.

Luffy felt a burning sensation on his neck and immediately scrambled away on all fours.

As he ran, he rubbed his neck and screamed in panic.

"Hot, hot, hot!"

"It's on fire! It's on fire!"

Everyone in the inn was dumbfounded.

No one had seen what happened.

Only the red glow in Kahn's eyes slowly faded.

Heat Vision.

He had precisely controlled the output, heating only the object without hurting anyone.

This was a new application he had recently developed from sunbathing.

Using it to light cigarettes might have been overkill, but it was absolutely perfect for disarming opponents.

Higuma clutched the hand covered in blisters from the burn, hopping in place from the pain.

The smell of cooked flesh spread through the air.

It was nauseating.

"D-Demonic... sorcery!"

Higuma stared at Kahn in horror.

This was absolutely not something a human could do.

"It's a Devil Fruit!"

"That brat is an ability user too!"

The few remaining bandits around them finally reacted.

Their terror reached its limit, transforming instead into a kind of desperate madness.

"Don't be afraid!"

"He's just a brat!"

"Get him together! Hack him to death!"

These bandits had been used to throwing their weight around and had never seen anything like this.

Seven or eight large men waved their weapons and charged at Kahn in the middle of the room with wild howls.

They tried to use numbers to bridge the gulf in strength.

Kahn stood where he was.

He didn't even take his hands out of his pockets.

"Too slow."

In his eyes.

Their movements were like slow-motion footage playing at one-tenth speed.

The one wielding the spiked club was using his muscles wrong, leaving himself full of openings.

The one holding the dagger had unsteady footwork. One look was enough to tell he had indulged too much in drink and women.

At this level, they couldn't even beat the monkeys on Mount Colubo.

Kahn moved.

There were no flashy techniques.

Only pure speed and strength.

"Bang!"

The first kick.

It landed squarely on the chest of the bandit wielding the spiked club.

There was no suspense.

The two-hundred-pound brute was like someone hit head-on by a speeding truck.

The sound of his breastbone shattering was clearly audible.

His whole body flew backward, smashed through the inn wall, and landed in the street outside.

He didn't even groan after hitting the ground before passing out cold.

"Smack!"

Kahn sidestepped a dagger.

Then, with the motion, he slapped the ambusher across the face.

That slap was a little heavy.

The bandit's head spun halfway around on his neck, and teeth mixed with blood sprayed all over the floor.

He spun in place like a top three times before crashing down headfirst.

In less than three seconds.

Higuma was the only bandit still standing in the inn.

The others.

Were either embedded in the walls or sprawled on the floor.

Their overlapping wails became the only background music in the shabby inn.

Kahn hadn't even disturbed a wrinkle in his clothes.

He still looked calm, as though he had merely swatted a few annoying flies.

"Was that your trump card?"

Kahn stepped over someone's leg on the floor and walked toward Higuma.

His footsteps were light.

But to Higuma, they were the countdown of death.

"D-Don't... don't come any closer!"

Higuma completely broke down.

The martial strength he had always prided himself on was as fragile as paper before this eight-year-old boy.

He pulled a black sphere from his clothes.

A smoke bomb.

It was his signature trick for escaping at sea.