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The Rumble-Rumble Fruit.
The moment Loki's eyes hit those bold words on the page, he couldn't look away even if he tried. He read the entry once, then a second time, and then a third time, just to make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him.
Every single sentence sent a sudden rush of adrenaline straight through his veins. According to the encyclopedia, this Devil Fruit granted its eater total, absolute control over lightning.
But honestly? That simple description didn't even come close to doing it justice.
This wasn't just about throwing a few sparks around. The person who ate this fruit didn't just command electricity; they became lightning itself. Their physical body transformed into pure, living thunder, allowing them to wield one of the most destructive forces in the universe as naturally as breathing.
Loki's breathing turned shallow and heavy.
Lightning... divine thunder...
That was Thor's entire identity.
Across Asgard, throughout the Nine Realms, and in every single corner of the cosmos, lightning was the ultimate symbol of authority, glory, and raw power. It was the unmistakable mark of Thor, the divine flex that made everyone bow down to Asgard's favorite son.
And now? A fruit capable of handing over that exact same cosmic force was sitting right in front of him.
How on earth was he supposed to stay calm?!
The more Loki stared at the page, the faster his mind raced, and the brighter his eyes burned.
Because here was the dirty little secret: Thor's thunder wasn't even truly his own. Thor had always relied on Mjolnir and Odin's ancient blessings to wield that power. Everything Thor possessed had been handed to him on a silver platter by the All-Father.
But this? This was completely different.
If Loki ate the Rumble-Rumble Fruit, the power of thunder wouldn't belong to Odin. It wouldn't belong to a magical hammer. It would belong to him. It would be fused into his very flesh and blood.
Wouldn't that prove, once and for all, without a single doubt, that he had completely surpassed Thor?
The sheer thought made Loki's pulse hammer against his ribs.
For his entire life, he had been trapped beneath his brother's suffocating shadow. No matter how many spellbooks he mastered, no matter how brilliant his tactics were, no matter how flawlessly he played the political game... people only ever cared about Thor. The golden prince. The almighty warrior. The God of Thunder.
That deep-seated bitterness had poisoned Loki for centuries. It was the dark fire behind every single terrible choice he had ever made. Slipping the Frost Giants into Asgard to ruin Thor's big day? Manipulating events behind the scenes to strip Thor of his inheritance?
Every scheme...
Every lie...
Every desperate gamble...
At their core, they all came back to the exact same burning need: he just wanted to prove he was better. Better than the brother everyone loved so much.
And now, the ultimate answer was practically begging him to take it.
The instant Loki locked eyes on the Rumble-Rumble Fruit, his decision was locked in. He had to get his hands on it. He didn't care if it wasn't technically the absolute strongest fruit in existence. He didn't care if it didn't fit his usual subtle illusion magic. None of that mattered even a little bit.
What mattered was the poetic justice.
If Loki could wield the exact same legendary storm that made Thor famous, without Odin's approval, without a hammer, and without anyone's blessing, he could finally stand before his brother and show the entire universe who the real God of Thunder was.
Naturally, it wasn't just the psychological drama and spite driving Loki toward this fruit. The raw, terrifying firepower detailed on the page was just as intoxicating.
The power to literally turn his body into pure, living electricity. To zip across battlefields at blinding speeds. To call down furious thunderbolts capable of reducing entire armies to ash in the blink of an eye.
Every single line he read made the Rumble-Rumble Fruit sound less like a simple magic spell and more like a force of nature.
"So..." Rosh glanced over, his eyes landing on the exact page Loki had stopped on. A faint, knowing smile touched his lips. "It seems the Rumble-Rumble Fruit caught your attention."
It was working out exactly as Rosh had planned.
From the second he had put together the catalog for the God of Mischief, he had made sure this specific Devil Fruit was front and center. Rosh understood Loki's mind far better than the prince realized. Between Loki's complicated place in Asgard's royal family, his bitter rivalry with Thor, and the deep resentment he had quietly nursed for centuries... There wasn't a more tempting offer in the entire universe.
In fact, Rosh was pretty sure nobody in existence wanted the Rumble-Rumble Fruit as badly as Loki did in this exact moment. It hit every single one of his deepest, darkest desires.
Loki didn't even bother trying to act cool or play hard to get.
"Yes," Loki admitted with a sharp, straight-faced nod. "I am very interested."
There was no point in denying it anyway; his sudden pale face and wide eyes had already given him away. Besides, as far as Loki was concerned, there was zero shame in admiring true, undisputed power.
He gently traced his fingers over the artwork of the strangely swirling fruit printed on the page.
"A fruit capable of giving someone the power of genuine divine thunder..." Loki looked up, meeting Rosh's gaze head-on. "I'll admit it, Merchant. Even I am thoroughly impressed."
There wasn't a trace of his usual sarcasm or fake charm left in his voice. It was pure, honest awe.
Rosh gave an approving nod. "That's the beauty of Devil Fruits." He leaned back comfortably. "And I have to give it to you, you've got unbelievable taste. Even among the top-tier Logia-type Devil Fruits, the Rumble-Rumble Fruit is widely considered one of the absolute strongest."
"Logia?"
Loki repeated the unfamiliar word, a sleek dark eyebrow rising in curiosity.
Earlier, while flipping through the intro pages, he had briefly skimmed past the three main Devil Fruit classifications: Logia, Paramecia, and Zoan.
At the time, he hadn't given the labels much thought, assuming they were just boring organizational categories without much practical meaning. But hearing Rosh single out the word Logia with such weight made him pause.
Without saying another word, Loki flipped back to the front chapters of the encyclopedia, his eyes darting across the detailed explanations of the three types.
The more he read... the heavier the air in the lounge seemed to get. Loki's sharp, calculating eyes widened millimeter by millimeter.
*Gasp!*
A quiet, breathless gasp slipped past his lips.
For the first time since stepping into the Devil Fruit House, the proud Prince of Asgard completely lost his composure.
The Logia class wasn't just impressive... it was downright absurd.
According to the rules laid out in the book, eating a Logia-type fruit didn't just give you magic to shoot an element out of your hands. It fundamentally rewrote your biological structure. Your physical body literally became that element.
Someone who ate the Flame-Flame Fruit became living fire.
Someone who ate the Ice-Ice Fruit became solid ice.
And someone who ate the Rumble-Rumble Fruit...
Became lightning itself.
Normal physical attacks, swords, spears, arrows, fists, even bullets, would pass straight through their body without leaving so much as a scratch. Unless an opponent possessed a very specific hard counter or an elite power designed to bypass elemental intangibility, hurting a Logia user was practically impossible.
Loki slowly lowered the heavy book, his hands trembling ever so slightly. Even with all his centuries spent mastering complex Asgardian sorcery... he felt genuinely rattled to his core.
This wasn't just another shiny magical relic or an enchanted weapon.
This was a power capable of completely breaking the laws of existence.
"...Magnificent," Loki breathed out, the praise slipping past his lips before he could stop himself.
It was extremely rare for anything in the universe to genuinely impress the God of Mischief. But Devil Fruits? They had hit the nail right on the head.
Of course... his brief moment of awe didn't mean he was suddenly dropping his guard.
A split second later, the sharp, calculating smirk returned to Loki's face. He smoothed down his green robes, leaned back, and looked directly at Rosh, his dark eyes narrowing into twin slits of suspicion.
"There's just one tiny problem, Merchant." Loki lightly tapped his long fingers against the leather cover of the book. "I've traveled across all Nine Realms. I've visited dark corners of the cosmos that most beings don't even know exist."
His smirk widened, growing a little sharper.
"And yet, never once in my long life have I ever heard of these so-called Devil Fruits." He tilted his head, his voice dropping into a dangerous, silky purr. "So tell me... why on earth should I believe this isn't just a very elaborate, very impressive illusion?"
It was a completely fair question.
No matter how epic the descriptions in the book sounded, fancy words printed on paper weren't physical proof, and Loki wasn't about to get played.
Rosh, however, didn't look flustered at all. He simply opened his hands in an easy, welcoming gesture.
"Fair enough," Rosh said casually. "My shop actually offers complimentary trial samples. Every single customer is free to test out a Devil Fruit's power before deciding if they want to buy."
"A sample?"
Loki looked down and quickly skimmed the fine print near the back of the encyclopedia. Sure enough, there was a small section explaining the trial policy. It stated that taking a sample granted the user full, temporary access to the fruit's abilities... for exactly five minutes.
The moment Loki finished reading that sentence, a cold, mocking laugh bubbled up in his chest. 'Does this mortal honestly think I'm that naive?' Loki thought, scoffing internally. 'Gulp down an unknown magical substance handed to me by a complete stranger? Even if it's just a 'sample'?'
To a regular person, the offer might have sounded insanely generous. To Loki? It sounded like a massive, glowing red flag.
Loki had built his entire reputation on tricks, lies, and subtle poisons. He knew better than anyone in the Nine Realms that the sweetest-looking gifts always hid the sharpest hooks. Maybe someone impulsive and hot-headed, like that crazy talking raccoon from earlier, would blindly swallow an unknown potion just to test it out.
But Loki? The God of Mischief trusted almost no one, least of all an all-knowing merchant standing in a magical pocket dimension. He wasn't about to poison himself or fall into a trap just because the guy swore it was harmless. That was a rookie mistake.
Rosh watched Loki's expression shift, remaining totally unbothered. He had fully expected this kind of reaction.
Doing business with humans from Earth was easy; his reputation always preceded him, and most of them trusted him instantly. But cosmic heavyweights from other realms were a whole different story. They had no idea who Rosh was. To them, he was just a mysterious stranger making impossible claims.
Earning their trust always required a little bit of flair.
Loki slowly pushed the heavy book across the polished table, his signature Prince of Asgard smile locking firmly back into place. Elegant, regal, and full of hidden danger.
"I have a much better idea," Loki said smoothly, resting his chin on his hands as he locked eyes with Rosh. "If you're really the master of this establishment..."
His eyes glinted with a sharp, challenging spark. "Then I assume you've personally eaten one of these extraordinary Devil Fruits yourself?"
"Of course," Rosh said, nodding without a second of hesitation. "Though technically, you've already seen what a Devil Fruit can do. That's how we got into this room in the first place, the Door-Door Fruit."
Loki gave a slick, polite nod. "True. And I'll freely admit, it was a very neat trick." He leaned in slightly, his sharp dark eyes staying locked on Rosh. "But that isn't what I'm questioning right now. What I want to see... is this."
He tapped his pale finger against the page detailing the Logia class.
"The ability to turn flesh and blood into a literal element of nature."
A sharp, skeptical smirk tugged at the corner of Loki's mouth.
"In all my long years traveling through the Nine Realms, I've never seen anything remotely like that. So before I decide to take your word for it... I want to see it with my own eyes. You can appreciate a healthy amount of skepticism, can't you?"
Rosh looked at him, completely unbothered.
"So... you're asking me to personally put on a Logia demonstration for you."
"Exactly," Loki replied with a casual wave of his hand, as if asking a cosmic entity for a personal demonstration was the most reasonable thing in the world. "Call it my condition for doing business."
Rosh had to hide a chuckle. 'Man, this guy really doesn't lack confidence, does he?'
Here Rosh was, offering Loki a literal god-tier upgrade that could completely outshine Thor's thunder, and the Prince of Mischief was acting like Rosh was the one auditioning for him.
'Well, if he wants a show... I don't mind giving him one he'll never forget.'
"Fair enough," Rosh said, taking a relaxed step forward. "I don't mind showing you what a Logia Fruit can do."
Then, a slightly playful, dangerous glint entered Rosh's eyes.
"My only real concern... is that I might accidentally hurt you." He paused, chuckling softly. "After all, you are still the Prince of Asgard. It'd be pretty rude of me if I ended up scuffing up the All-Father's son too badly, wouldn't it?"
For a long, heavy second, total silence fell over the lounge.
Then, Loki broke it with a sudden burst of genuine laughter. Not because he found the warning polite, but because the mere idea of this young merchant hurting him sounded utterly ridiculous.
"Ha..." Loki chuckled, shaking his head in mild disbelief. "You certainly aren't short on bravado, are you?"
Loki adjusted the broad sleeves of his green silk robes, his smirk sharpening into something dangerous as he locked eyes with Rosh.
"If you actually possess enough power to injure me..." Loki said, his voice dropping into a smooth, deadly purr, "...then I will happily bow my head and acknowledge your strength."
The pride of an Asgardian royal radiated off him in waves.
"I am one of the absolute greatest sorcerers in all the Nine Realms. If someone exists who is truly capable of breaking through my magic... even All-Father Odin himself would treat you with the utmost respect."
As he spoke, faint wisps of shimmering emerald magic began to dance silently across Loki's fingertips. The challenge was officially on the table.
Loki's smile turned sharp and eager.
"So... shall we begin?"
Rosh smiled right back. Since the God of Mischief was so impatient to test him, it would be bad customer service to keep him waiting.
*Creak!*
Rosh casually reached out his hand toward empty air. Space twisted once more as a massive, heavy wooden doorway tore open right beside them.
Through the open door, a vast, desolate wasteland stretched out under a bleak, endless sky. Red dirt, jagged canyon rocks, and dead silence, a completely empty world without a single city, building, or living soul in sight.
It was the ultimate playground to unleash devastating, catastrophic power without holding anything back.
Rosh stepped back slightly, making a polite gesture toward the open doorway.
"After you..." Rosh said smoothly. "Prince Loki."
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Next Chapter: The Manager vs. The God of Mischief
Next Next Chapter: The Price of Becoming the God of Thunder
Next Next Next Chapter: The Day Thor Lost Everything
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