Zone Six, Swamp.
Dark green miasma drifted through the forest like restless spirits. Giant carnivorous plants quietly opened their tooth-filled maws in the mud, while swamp crocodiles coated in slime lurked beneath murky waters, exposing only their cold, watchful eyes.
This was a stage where death and greed danced together. The air was thick with the sickly-sweet scent of rotting vegetation, and an even stronger stench of blood.
Deep within the forest, the towering red pillar of light had been flashing continuously for an entire day.
Beneath it, Issho sat cross-legged on a relatively dry tree root, his cane sword resting across his knees as he quietly meditated.
The hem of his light purple yukata brushed the muddy edge, yet strangely, not a trace of dirt clung to it.
That [Renzo Gold Token], constantly emitting a "come and take me" signal, lay casually at his feet like a worthless toy.
"Beep… beep… beep…"
Every few seconds, the token let out a short hum, its red light sweeping across faces hidden in the shadows, faces filled with greed and killing intent.
Behind trees, within the swamp, even up in the canopy above, people were everywhere.
At a rough estimate, at least two thousand contestants had completely surrounded this area.
Among them were pirates worth over a hundred million, cunning bounty hunters, assassins from the underworld, even a few wearing G-5 recruit uniforms, though their eyes were just as ruthless.
All of them stared at the gold token… and the seemingly defenseless blind man beside it.
Yet not a single one dared to make the first move.
Because scattered across the muddy ground lay more than fifty people, "specimens" who had previously attempted sneak attacks, only to be inexplicably pressed into the earth, with just their heads sticking out.
"Gulp…"
A burly man with a scar across his forehead swallowed hard, tightening his grip on a serrated blade. He was "The Ripper" Hank, worth 130 million, a known name in the New World.
"Boss… are we still going in?" a subordinate whispered, trembling. "That blind guy's weird! 'Viper' and the others rushed him earlier, got buried in the mud along with their weapons! They're still bubbling over there!"
"Of course we go!" Hank hissed, eyes flashing with brutality. "But not head-on! Look at him, he's alone! And how many are we? Two thousand! We could drown him in spit alone!"
"Yeah! Yeah!"
Another one-eyed pirate leaned in, "One-Eyed Wolf" Pavlov, bounty 98 million.
"And the rules say no killing! No matter how strong he is, he can't go all out! We can outlast him! Once we grab the token, we settle things among ourselves!"
"Well said."
A smooth, sinister voice cut in.
The crowd turned. A man in an elegant suit, face powdered white, holding a rose, walked gracefully through the mud.
"Bloody Rose" Rodriguez, bounty 210 million, famous for his cruelty and madness.
"Gentlemen," he said, tapping the rose toward Issho, "I propose this: we all attack together. Whoever gets the token leaves this area first. As for dividing it afterward… well, that's our internal matter."
The suggestion was quickly accepted.
If one couldn't win alone, then overwhelm him together.
Two thousand against one, even a monster would be worn down.
Greed finally crushed fear.
Eyes turned red. Breathing grew heavy. Killing intent thickened like substance, even dispersing some of the surrounding miasma.
On the tree root, Issho slowly opened his eyes, though he had no sight.
He sighed softly, a sound filled with quiet sorrow.
"Everyone…"
His voice was gentle, yet it reached every ear clearly.
"Why cling so stubbornly? For a piece of metal, you would risk your lives in such peril?"
"Cut the crap, old blind man!" Hank roared, raising his blade. "Hand over the token, or we bury you in this swamp today!"
"Enough talking! Attack!!"
"Kill!!!"
Like a lit powder keg, over two thousand restrained beasts exploded at once!
"Tekkai Steel Fist!"
"Poison Mist!"
"Hundred Slash!"
"Die! Rose Tempest!"
Shouts shook the heavens.
From all directions, ground, sky, every angle, the mass surged forward like a black tidal wave, carrying weapons, Haki, and Devil Fruit abilities toward the lone purple figure at the center.
It looked like wolves descending upon a helpless lamb.
…
G-5 Live Broadcast Plaza.
"My god!!"
Rehn's voice boomed through the speakers as he practically clung to the control panel, face pressed against the Zone Six screen.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Do you see this?! Zone Six! Swamp Island! The largest-scale 'Justice Mob Beatdown' since the tournament began!!"
On screen, over two thousand light points rushed toward a single purple one.
The sheer scale left everyone breathless.
"Two thousand against one!" Rehn shouted. "As much as I admire that blind fighter's presence… there's a saying, two fists can't beat four hands! Even a tiger falls to a pack of wolves!"
"Will this hidden master fall here? Will his token change hands?!"
"Let's wait and see, no! Let's pray for him!!"
In the VIP lounge, noble ladies covered their eyes.
"No! That uncle seems nice! He even treated me to noodles once!" one cried.
"Praying won't help! Tip him! Tip for medical bills!" another said, already writing a check.
Meanwhile, the general audience roared:
"Kill the blind guy!"
"Take the token!"
"I bet on the wolf pack winning!"
Nearly everyone had bet on the crowd.
Only a few gamblers clutched their "Issho solo win" tickets, sweating.
"Hold on… uncle… I bet everything on you…"
…
Swamp, Center Battlefield
Facing the incoming tidal wave of attacks, Issho slowly stood.
No panic. No fear.
Only a faint, compassionate smile.
"Stubborn beyond reason…"
He shook his head and slowly raised his cane sword.
Still sheathed, just pointing upward.
"If words cannot awaken you…"
His voice dropped, solemn and heavy. The warmth vanished, replaced by an overwhelming pressure, as if the heavens themselves bore down.
"Then let 'heaven's will'… help you calm down."
The moment his words fell, Bzzzzzz.
An invisible, crushing force burst outward from him!
Not Haki. Not killing intent.
It was… gravity.
Twisted, overwhelming gravity.
The front-line attackers suddenly felt as if mountains were strapped to their backs!
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Dozens slammed face-first into the mud mid-charge.
"What?!"
The assault faltered. Everyone looked up, and their expressions shifted from ferocity… to shock… to, absolute terror.
The dark sky, hidden by miasma and trees… was being torn open.
No, something was breaking through it.
Burning red from atmospheric friction, descending at horrifying speed,
At first, a red dot, then a fireball, and finally, a meteor.
Over a hundred meters wide, engulfed in flames, trailing a blazing tail,
Falling straight toward the swamp.
"W-what… is that?!!!"
Hank's blade slipped from his hand.
Rodriguez's rose withered instantly, white powder falling from his face as his lips trembled.
Pavlov collapsed into the mud, pants soaked.
All two thousand attackers stood frozen, staring at the descending catastrophe.
Their minds blank.
Fear? Too late for that.
This was something beyond instinct, a terror that pierced the soul.
They hadn't surrounded a lamb.
They had surrounded…
A dragon that could summon disasters from the heavens.
....
30 Chapter, [email protected]/DaoistJinzu