Ron's voice came from outside the door. Saint Bernie instantly went deathly pale. He fumbled to lock it, then faced the door and said in a trembling voice, "Y-you said that as long as I gave you that Devil Fruit, you'd spare me this once."
Bam!
What Saint Bernie got was not Ron's answer, but two hands punching straight through the door.
"Ah!"
Saint Bernie screamed and scrambled forward. The carpet caught his foot, and he stumbled and fell to the floor.
He quickly rolled over to face the door, his feet desperately pushing him backward.
Then he saw a terrifying sight.
He watched with his own eyes as Ron's hands tore his door apart as though it were a sheet of paper.
"Oh? It's you. What a coincidence, meeting again. Last time, I said I'd spare you once. This time, if you can't produce a Devil Fruit, I'll still kill you." Ron walked unhurriedly through the opening.
Saint Bernie's pupils shrank to pinpoints. Fear and fury exploded in his chest at the same time.
As a descendant of the creators, he had actually been played by a lowlife.
The humiliation poured over his nerves like boiling oil.
"You tricked me! I just gave you a Devil Fruit!" Saint Bernie shouted hoarsely.
"What's this about giving? I clearly stole it. Don't make it sound so nice." Ron approached him step by step.
"You lowlife!" Saint Bernie roared, as though using the last scraps of his confidence and status to prop himself up.
"Insulting me makes your offense worse. If you can't produce two, I'll take the top of your skull off." Ron's voice remained calm.
"Hehehe, hahahaha!"
Saint Bernie suddenly began laughing. Perhaps despair had caused him to break down, and his body had automatically produced some sort of masking