Kyle ignored the panicked townspeople and headed straight for the port. The deafening gunfire and piercing screams didn't make him retreat—instead, they lit an irrepressible fire in his golden eyes.
The frustration of aimless drifting and the confusion of arriving in an unfamiliar world needed an outlet. And this gang of clueless pirates had shown up at just the right time.
"Hey, this store looks like it's making a killing!" With a loud crash, the wooden door of a shop near the port was kicked open. Several Black Shark Pirates' lackeys barged in grinning, eager to loot.
Kyle's figure appeared silently behind them. His sharp eyes scanned the group, while invisible shockwave perception rippled out like waves on water, locking precisely onto the weapons at their waists and the weaknesses in their bodies.
The moment Kyle's thoughts stirred, the pirates—who were just about to act—suddenly froze.
The leader had just raised a bent sword to smash open a locked box when the blade in his hand began to hum with a strange vibration. A moment later, with a series of harsh crack-crack sounds, it disintegrated into a pile of fine metal fragments and clattered uselessly to the ground.
"What the hell... What just happened?!" The pirate stared blankly at his now-empty hands, completely unaware of how things had gone so wrong.
Before he could react, a strange tingling spread from deep inside his body, followed by intense spasms, like all his internal organs were being crushed and twisted by invisible hands.
His mouth opened, but no sound came out. He could only watch helplessly as his companions dropped to the floor one by one, clutching their stomachs and convulsing in pain, blood foaming from their mouths and noses.
The whole process was eerily silent—just the faint sounds of metal cracking and bodies collapsing. Kyle didn't spare them another glance and moved on to his next target.
"It's that brat! He did it!"
"Open fire! Kill him!"
Finally, one pirate spotted the youth reaping lives like a ghost and screamed in terror.
Driven by the instinct to survive, the others snapped out of their stupor and turned their weapons on the sudden demon in their midst. Several flintlock fired at once, deadly lead bullets flying, while cold blades slashed toward Kyle from all sides.
But Kyle didn't flinch—didn't dodge—didn't move at all.
At the exact moment the bullets and swords reached him, his body suddenly distorted, becoming vague and illusory, like shimmering air rippling above scorching summer pavement.
"Swish, swish, swish!"
The bullets passed clean through him, embedding themselves in the wall behind. The swords, too, hit nothing, slashing through what seemed like a mirage. Only faint ripples spread in the air.
"Y-you hit nothing?!"
"Wha… what the hell?"
"Ghost! He's a ghost!"
Panic overtook them. The pirates froze in place, stunned by the supernatural sight.
Kyle sneered. This was the first time he'd used elementalization so fluidly in real combat—and it felt... amazing.
He danced like a phantom between forms, seamlessly shifting from physical body to shockwave essence. Each flicker of movement left another pirate falling in his wake.
Some had their chests cave in out of nowhere; others' eyes rolled back as blood trickled from their ears and noses. They collapsed without a scream—silent, lifeless.
"Too slow. Too weak." Kyle's mocking voice rang through the battlefield, calm and cruel.
He came to a sudden stop. Raising both hands, he aimed at a cluster of a dozen pirates gathered in front of him, all staring back with dumbstruck expressions.
With a thought, a dense shockwave exploded forward, tearing through the air in a clean arc straight toward the crowd.
Then—Boom! Boom!—two more shockwaves followed, roaring out one after the other in swift succession.
The pirates' faces twisted in horror. They had no time to run. The three consecutive blasts swallowed them whole.
The shockwaves tore through bodies, shattered buildings, and sent debris flying. Several wooden houses collapsed under the force, chunks of rubble and shards of wood whirling into the sky, dust billowing like a storm.
And then—sudden silence.
The gunfire, the screams—everything at the port ground to a halt. Townspeople mid-flight and remaining pirates alike froze, staring at the devastation in stunned disbelief.
"Monster… monster!" A pirate dropped his weapon and scrambled away, trying to crawl to safety.
Kyle was just about to seize the moment and wipe out the remaining stragglers when a wave of intense dizziness suddenly crashed over him. His vision darkened.
He groaned, forcing himself to stay upright. The surge of excitement drained away like a receding tide, replaced by a soul-deep exhaustion.
After unleashing his Devil Fruit abilities in such rapid succession—and going days without food—his body had finally reached its limit.
"Damn…" Kyle muttered to himself, "I've gotta finish this quick!"
"Captain! That kid's about to collapse!" A sharp-eyed pirate spotted Kyle's shaky stance and shouted in alarm.
The captain of the Black Shark Pirates—a hulking brute with a face like chiseled meat and a massive anchor in his hands—glared with eyes cold enough to freeze blood.
He hadn't expected this. After years of terrorizing these seas, he was being humiliated… by some no-name brat.
"Finish him! Kill him, and I'll double your reward!" the captain roared.
At that moment, a glint of cold steel flashed behind Kyle.
A tall, thin swordsman from the Black Shark crew—his face sharp and malicious—had been hiding in the shadows, biding his time. Now, seeing Kyle at his limit, he struck.
The tip of his blade gleamed with a slick, black sheen—like a venomous snake lunging from its lair—shooting straight for Kyle's unguarded back.
"What the hell—Haki?! In a beginner town?!" Kyle's heart lurched. He forced himself to move away.
"Swish!" The razor-sharp edge tore through his shirt, carving a gash beneath his ribs. Blood instantly stained his black shirt crimson.
Kyle staggered back, groaning in pain, and leaned heavily against a shattered wall.
The swordsman grinned viciously, licking his lips. "Your abilities are strange, kid, I'll give you that. But now you're dead. I'm a master of Armament Haki!"
He advanced slowly, savoring the moment, bloody blade in hand and confidence swelling in his eyes.
Kyle's breathing grew ragged. Cold sweat beaded across his brow.
Suddenly, a flash lit up in his eyes. With a flicker of movement, two clones formed beside him—hazy afterimages of light and shadow—launching a three-pronged strike on the unsuspecting swordsman.
The man's expression twisted in confusion as he tried to block the sudden flurry of attacks.
At that precise moment, a blur dropped from the sky like a falling comet.
"Clang!"
The screech of metal-on-metal echoed through the air!
A figure had landed directly in front of Kyle—tall, imposing… and wearing a very familiar straw hat.
The swordsman reeled back in shock, his arms numb from the force of the parry. He stared at the newcomer, stunned and speechless.
Kyle, too, was frozen in place. The moment he caught sight of the man's face, his pupils shrank—and an emotional wave crashed over him.
"A… Ace?!"