The Power of the Luck-Luck Fruit (Part 1)

Somewhere in the New World, a casino.

In the brilliantly lit hall, the crisp clatter of chips mingled with greedy breathing, composing a symphony of desire.

The air was thick with the decadent, cloying stench of cigars, perfume, and sweat.

The crystal chandeliers reflected the gleam of gold-leaf decorations, casting light over faces twisted by desire.

This was one of the largest money pits under the Loan Shark King Dufeld, with daily revenues enough to buy a small island.

But today, that noise would be torn apart completely.

At the roulette table in the southeast corner, a bodyguard reaching for the Den Den Mushi in his coat suddenly had his head bent sharply to the side without warning. The crack of his neck breaking was drowned out by the clatter of rolling dice.

Even as he fell, his eyes remained wide open. He had not even seen where the attack had come from.

Lucci's movements held not a trace of waste. Armament Haki coiled around his fingertips, and each strike sent another body crumpling to the floor.

The so-called experts hired by the casino were like paper dolls before him, unable even to sound the alarm.

After dealing with the enemies before him, he spoke into the portable Den Den Mushi on his wrist.

"Van Augur, snipe anyone who tries to raise the alarm."

"Understood."

The reply came from a shadow-covered corner of the second-floor corridor.

There stood a slender brown-haired youth wearing a strange tall hat, his right eye covered by a black eyepatch. He had nearly blended into the darkness.

He raised a sniper rifle that was more than half a body longer than he was tall, its muzzle shifting slightly with his gaze.

A guard hiding behind a pillar trembled as he pulled out a small Den