In the distance, gods clashed, and the earth itself seemed to tear asunder. The sky roared as if it could no longer hold itself together. Closer to the battlefield, ruins lay scattered like discarded toys, and the anguished cries of those caught in the chaos echoed across the scorched land.
The so-called "Holy Land of the Gods" had been reduced to a hunting ground of unparalleled ferocity—and Kyle, as ever, was in his element.
"Ah… this feels just right," Kyle murmured, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips. He weaved through the charred remnants of forests and shattered buildings, moving like a shadow over the devastation. "All those years of honing survival and hunting skills… they can't be allowed to rust now."
Heh heh heh. The Hunting King was back online.
His primary targets were, naturally, the Celestial Dragons—the arrogant, self-proclaimed "gods" who regarded ordinary humans as nothing more than weeds. The treasures they carried were secondary; the thrill lay in hunting those untouchable figures, in seeing their terror firsthand.
To make his hunt more entertaining—and to maintain a degree of theatrical flair—Kyle occasionally took on unusual disguises.
In a relatively intact manor, several CP agents in black suits scurried to protect a corpulent Celestial Dragon, who still clutched half a roasted chicken leg in his trembling hand. He shrieked in panic as the agents tried to keep him upright.
"Quick! Protect me! You useless lot!" he screamed, spittle flying onto the bubble-headed helmets of his guards.
Suddenly, a bizarre figure blocked their path.
It was yellow, square, and porous, wearing a white shirt and brown square pants. Two large buck teeth protruded from its wide grin, and its eyes gleamed with an innocent, yet unsettling, cheerfulness.
"Ah ha ha ha ha! Hello there! Would you like a delicious Krabby Patty?"
"SpongeBob!" the figure announced, voice sharp and ear-piercing.
The CP agents froze. What was this? Some rare beast? A new form of Devil Fruit user? Or merely a mascot gone rogue?
The leading agent drew his long sword, his knuckles white, and charged. But before he could reach the strange creature, "SpongeBob" puffed out its cheeks and released a series of colorful, iridescent bubbles.
The bubbles looked fragile and whimsical, yet they moved with blinding speed. One agent swung his blade to intercept, but the instant the sword met a bubble—Boom!
An invisible shockwave exploded. The agent had no time to scream before he was hurled backward like a ragdoll, crashing through three walls before finally collapsing unconscious.
The remaining agents hesitated, unsure how to respond. But Kyle, concealed in the SpongeBob illusion, continued his onslaught. He giggled playfully as he blew more "bubbles," each one a compressed air cannon, striking joints and chests with surgical precision. The targets were incapacitated quickly, left only enough awareness to feel utter despair.
With the area cleared, Kyle approached the Celestial Dragon, slumped in fear, covered in snot and tears.
"This one doesn't look smart… kill him," he whispered, a flick of his finger sending an invisible ripple toward the man's walnut-sized brain, paralyzing him without leaving a trace.
After looting the manor, Kyle hummed a whimsical tune, moving on.
Soon, he encountered another target and switched forms. A giant pink starfish, wearing green patterned shorts and drooling, appeared before the Celestial Dragon—a female this time—whipping her slaves with cruel amusement.
Patrick Star!
"This one looks brutal… kill her," Kyle whispered, his tone almost academic. He manipulated Patrick's awkward, clumsy movements as he strolled forward.
Under the watchful eyes of CP agents, Kyle raised Patrick's hand to the sky.
"Look! A starfish!"
The agents instinctively glanced up. When they looked back, a concentrated Heatwave Breath burst from Patrick's belly button. The focused infrared wave cut through several agents, melted through the Celestial Dragon, and carved a red-edged hole into the surrounding rock.
Kyle nodded in satisfaction. Pinpoint precision and artistic flair—this was far more enjoyable than brute-force destruction.
Yet when faced with truly formidable opponents, his playfulness faded.
In a leveled plaza, a Celestial Dragon wearing a bubble-headed helmet was protected by several elite warriors—God's Knights. Their strength radiated like mountains, and Kyle immediately recognized that head-on confrontation was a mistake.
He melted into the shadows, shifting light and shadow to create a slender, long-nosed octopus illusion. Squidward had arrived.
Kyle observed carefully, analyzing the God's Knights' formation. It was precise—offense and defense perfectly balanced.
"This one looks… tricky."
He decided on stealth and precision. Raising his naginata, he aimed at the weakest-looking knight.
Silent Cloud Piercer.
No air was torn. No energy waves revealed his intent. The blade tip struck the knight's back like a snake's fang—perfect.
Yet the sensation was wrong. It wasn't flesh that gave way, but something tougher, like rubber.
The knight turned, frowning, rapidly retreating as the wound healed before Kyle's eyes.
"Found you, peeping tom," the God's Knight said, voice emotionless.
Tsk. The so-called immortal body… how disgusting.
Kyle's naginata trembled, releasing several sword qi slashes. With precise recoil, he pulled back, simultaneously activating Light Illusion Mirage. Dozens of Squidward illusions scattered, while Kyle vanished into another shadow.
The God's Knights were worthy of their title. Direct confrontation was suicidal.
Kyle abandoned them and continued his hunt.
Passing through a devastated residential area, he spotted another Celestial Dragon family—a man, woman, and two children. Kyle's eyes narrowed, preparing to issue judgment.
"This one looks… huh, wait?!"
His words faltered. The man didn't exude arrogance or cruelty. Fear and worry dominated his face. He wasn't hiding behind guards; he spread his arms to shield his wife and children. The young blonde boy even stared defiantly into the chaos outside.
Kyle recognized him immediately: Donquixote Homing.
The only anomaly among Celestial Dragons—the man who voluntarily abandoned his divine status to live as a mortal with his family.
The naginata felt heavier in Kyle's hands. Celestial Dragons were scum, the cancer of the world—but this man was a father, innocent, bound by conscience.
Squawk, squawk. Everyone has the right to choose their path—good or evil. Homing's life was one of hardship, Doflamingo's future one of sin, but those were their own choices. Kyle could punish sin, but he could not judge potential yet-to-occur futures.
He sheathed the naginata, watching silently. His hunt continued, but now tempered with discernment.
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