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

Somewhere in the New World, a casino.

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

The air was thick with the sickly-sweet stench of cigars, perfume, and sweat.

Crystal chandeliers reflected the gleam of gold-leaf decorations, casting light across faces twisted by desire.

This was one of the largest money pits under the control of Du Feld, the Loan Shark King. Its daily turnover was enough to buy a small island.

But today, that clamor was about to be torn apart completely.

At a roulette table in the southeast corner, a guard reaching for the Den Den Mushi tucked against his chest suddenly had his head bent sharply to one side without warning. The crack of his shattered neck was swallowed by the noise of rattling dice.

When he fell, his eyes were still wide open. He had not even seen where the attack came from.

Lucci's movements contained no wasted motion. Armament Haki coiled around his fingertips, and with every strike, another body crumpled to the ground.

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 in front of him, he raised the wrist bearing a portable Den Den Mushi.

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

"Understood."

The response came from a shadowed corner of the second-floor corridor.

There stood a lean brown-haired youth wearing a strange tall hat and a black eyepatch over his right eye, nearly fused with the darkness.

He raised a Sniper Rifle that was more than half a head taller than himself, its muzzle shifting slightly with his gaze.

A guard hiding behind a pillar tremblingly pulled out a small Den Den Mushi. Just