Chương 106: A Flash of Gold, One Kick at a Time

Whoosh! Under the stunned gaze of everyone present, a dazzling streak of golden light tore through the air like a meteor, landing squarely in front of Vanessa. Then, in an instant— The golden light flared brilliantly before fading, revealing a young man of Eastern descent standing tall and poised. His appearance was refined, his features sharp yet serene, and his presence radiated a sense of wisdom and composure.

With a calm, scholarly demeanor and an unmistakable air of elegance, he seemed almost otherworldly amidst the chaos.

"What?!" The crowd collectively gasped their faces a mixture of shock and disbelief. The radiant light had transformed... into a person?!

"Light-Speed Kick!" Before anyone could react, the young man's voice rang out. His leg shot forward in a blur of motion, cutting through the air like a blade of light, and struck Bakuto squarely in the chest with devastating force. Boom! Bakuto's body was flung backward like a ragdoll, crashing into the crowd with a sickening force before collapsing lifelessly to the ground. Blood gushed from his chest, a horrifying display of mangled flesh and splintered bone.

The sheer power of the single kick had obliterated his torso, leaving it a grotesque and unrecognizable mess, as though a bomb had detonated at point-blank range. Clang! Bakuto's sword slipped from his lifeless grasp, clattering to the floor with an eerie metallic echo that resonated through the stunned silence of the room. The battlefield was suddenly engulfed in a strange, unsettling silence. All around, both allies and enemies were motionless, their eyes locked on the young man standing at the center.

The tension in the air was palpable as if time itself had momentarily come to a halt. No one dared to make a sound or take a single step. Everyone's mind raced with the same question,'Who is that man?' Not only had he made an entrance that left everyone in awe, but he had also effortlessly defeated one of the Hand's Five Fingers—one of their most skilled and elite warriors—with nothing more than a single, powerful kick! The idea was almost impossible to believe.

Bakuto, a man who struck fear into the hearts of everyone in the underworld, had been brought down to nothing in just a matter of seconds. And yet... the most baffling part of it all? They had all witnessed it with their own eyes—this man had somehow transformed into light. How could something like that even be possible? Could he be a mutant? But even mutants weren't this overwhelmingly powerful… The battlefield was utterly silent now, the clash of combat on both sides coming to an abrupt halt.

Every person, whether ally or foe, stood frozen, their eyes fixed on the mysterious figure at the center. Their expressions were a mix of awe and fear, unable to look away from the source of their uncertainty.

"Shopkeeper, you've arrived!" Kingpin's voice broke the heavy silence, carrying a blend of relief and pure joy. He hurried toward the newcomer, his steps quick and eager. His face held an expression of deep reverence as though he were looking upon a savior sent to deliver them all from danger.

'Shopkeeper?' Madame Gao and Murakami exchanged a brief, wary glance, their faces slowly shifting into expressions of concern as the realization began to sink in. If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. This wasn't just any man. No, this was the owner of the legendary Home of the Devil Fruits. They had always suspected that the mysterious shopkeeper was far from ordinary, but they could never have imagined that he possessed this power level.

"Vanessa, are you alright?" Fisk rushed to her side, his voice heavy with concern as he scanned her for any signs of injury.

"I'm fine, Fisk," Vanessa reassured him, though the slight tremor in her voice revealed the fear still gripping her heart. Fisk studied her closely, his eyes scanning for any sign of injury. Only once he was certain she was unharmed did he finally allow himself to exhale.

"Young man, this is a private matter between Fisk and the Hand. Why are you getting involved? Surely there's been some misunderstanding. I don't believe the Hand has ever wronged you." Madame Gao's voice pierced the thick silence, her tone cold and calculated. Though Madame Gao spoke calmly, her mind was in turmoil. She had carefully planned the attack on the Home of the Devil Fruits, taking every possible precaution to erase any trace of her involvement.

There was no way this man could have linked the attack back to her or the Hand.

"Wronged me?" The young man raised an eyebrow, his voice casual, yet it held a dangerous edge beneath the surface.

"If stealing from me isn't considered an offense, then let this be my form of justice." Madame Gao's composure slipped for just a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face before she swiftly regained control.

'How could he possibly know?' She had been extremely careful in her planning, leaving no room for error. Every person who had been involved in the heist was already dead, and all the evidence had been carefully erased. There should have been no way for him to connect it to her. This man was far more dangerous than she had ever anticipated. Quickly regaining her composure, she masked the unease in her voice and pressed forward, her tone laced with feigned innocence.

"Surely, there must be some mistake—""You seem to be misunderstanding something," Rosh interjected, his voice sharp and unwavering, cutting through her words like a blade.

"I'm not here to play detective. I don't care if you admit it or not. I know it was you, and that's all that matters." Madame Gao's face drained of color, her expression turning ashen. The time for negotiations had passed. This man was an unstoppable force, and it was clear that only one option was left for them now.

"Attack!" Without hesitation, Murakami sprang into action. His blade gleamed in the light as he lunged toward the young man with lightning speed. Every movement was precise and deliberate, striking with a suddenness that caught everyone off guard.

"Shopkeeper, watch out!

"Kingpin shouted, his voice filled with alarm as he saw the deadly strike coming. But before Kingpin's warning could even leave his lips, Murakami's blade had already driven deep into the Shopkeeper's chest. Kingpin stood frozen, his mind struggling to comprehend the scene before him.

'Could it really be? The Shopkeeper, who had seemed so invincible, defeated so effortlessly in an instant?'

"Got him!" A rare smile flickered across Murakami's face, a flash of satisfaction at the unexpected success of his attack. He hadn't anticipated it to go so flawlessly. The Shopkeeper was nothing more than a man, after all. But something felt off. There was no resistance, no familiar sensation of a blade cutting through flesh or bone. It was as though the sword had passed through nothing at all.

"What?!" Murakami's face contorted in disbelief. His blade had passed straight through the young man's torso, but there was no blood, no movement, not even a flinch. Just an unsettling, unnatural feeling, as if he had thrust his sword through thin air. Rosh stood completely unharmed, his body glowing with a soft, golden light. A faint, mocking smile played on his lips, and his eyes were filled with contempt and disdain. Murakami's mind raced in shock.

'He's light... he can turn into light!'

"Scary," Rosh remarked mockingly, his smirk never wavering, betraying no trace of fear. Then, in the blink of an eye, his leg shot forward. Boom! With a sudden flash of light, a powerful kick struck Murakami, hitting him with the force of a cannonball. The sheer impact sent him flying backward, his body hurtling through the air before crashing violently into the ground. The sickening thud of his body hitting the floor echoed through the battlefield.

He lay there, completely still, unable to move, and in that moment, it was clear—his fate was sealed.

"Just terrifying," Rosh added with feigned sincerity, casually brushing his hands together as if he were wiping off the dust. For the onlookers, there was no denying it anymore. The Hand's so-called "immortals" weren't invincible gods. They were merely men. And men could fall.

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