While rumors continued to spread through every corner of Loguetown, Ryukawa had already left the ruined streets and was heading toward the harbor.
Of course, none of those rumors escaped his notice.
"Loguetown's nightmare?"
He couldn't help laughing.
He honestly hadn't expected people to reconstruct the battle so accurately just from the traces left behind. In a way, it was impressive.
Because yes—Smoker really was "one-shot."
But the public was still missing a key detail:
Smoker wasn't defeated head-on.
He was "one-shot" from the side—by the aftershock of Ryukawa's slash.
Just the blast and pressure from that strike—without a direct hit—was enough to crush Smoker's defenses, leaving him critically injured and barely alive.
No pirate could ever guess that part.
Only Ryukawa, Smoker himself, and a handful of Marines knew the truth.
And the Marines certainly weren't going to publicize a battle that felt like pure humiliation.
"Everything here ended smoothly… except for the part where my identity got exposed."
He narrowed his eyes.
He hadn't anticipated just how terrifying CP's intelligence network really was. In only a few days, they'd pieced together the entire incident in Octagon Town, identified his goal, and even had Rob Lucci set a trap for him in Loguetown—an airtight "catch the turtle in a jar."
Unfortunately for them—
In front of absolute strength, schemes were paper-thin.
Ryukawa simply tore through it.
Their only fatal mistake was also the most important one:
They never imagined that a swordsman from the East Blue could be this strong.
Even the "strongest CP9 agent in 800 years" had been casually erased.
That oversight buried their entire plan.
Strength was everything.
In true overwhelming power, strategy didn't matter—unless your strength wasn't enough.
"From today on, I need to take CP more seriously."
"This time it was Lucci. Next time, who knows what kind of monster they'll send?"
He'd interrupted their business, destroyed their base, killed their people. CP would absolutely put him on the top of their list—the kind of "thorn in the eye" they'd want ripped out immediately.
He'd originally planned to return to Shimotsuki Village, keep training, and continue life as the dojo's senior disciple.
But now…
That was no longer realistic.
He'd also made an enemy of the Marines, at least politically.
Would they label him a pirate?
He didn't even bother stressing over it.
He had already collided with CP and the Marines in some form—whether he wanted to or not.
And returning home now would risk dragging Shimotsuki Village and Isshin Dojo into the storm.
Right now, people only knew his appearance and general trail. They couldn't trace his true origin.
If he went back home, CP would connect the dots immediately.
That was unacceptable.
"So… I can't go back."
He exhaled, half amused, half bitter.
"Looks like I finally understand what it means to have a home you can't return to."
He'd have to find a way to explain things to Koshiro later.
But for now, the village had to stay off the map.
Then another thought hit him.
"Oh right. I didn't just offend CP and the Marines."
He'd also made an enemy of the Donquixote Family.
He'd smashed their East Blue transaction at Octagon Town, and now he'd wiped out CP's entire East Blue setup—meaning their business channel here was effectively dead.
If Doflamingo's people heard this, they'd explode.
And Ryukawa—obviously—would become a target.
He laughed quietly.
"CP. Marines. Donquixote Family."
"Three top-tier powers… and I managed to provoke all of them."
"This is basically a masterclass in speedrunning suicide."
Still, it wasn't like he gained nothing.
He'd sharpened his control over Observation Haki and Conqueror's Haki.
But if he was being honest, he might've awakened and developed those through training at the dojo anyway.
Which led him to a brutal conclusion:
"So… I went out, caused a disaster, made three major enemies… and didn't even get a hair of profit?"
For a moment, he felt like he'd been used.
Like a tool.
Because the Revolutionary Army would benefit the most: freed trafficked people meant new recruits, new soldiers, fresh blood.
And him?
He got a target painted on his back.
"Those Revolutionary guys… they're all snakes."
"Just like Koshiro said—too much scheming."
"If I deal with them too much, one day they'll sell me and I'll help them count the money."
By the time he reached the harbor, he'd made up his mind.
He was leaving Loguetown.
But before he did—
He was going to demand compensation.
Because this whole mess had given him nothing, while the Revolutionaries gained a harvest of "good seedlings."
Meanwhile, he'd become the mutual enemy of three giants.
No.
That wasn't happening for free.
"I'm not being someone's tool."
"They're paying."
And as he walked away, he smirked at the thought of the legend he'd left behind in Loguetown.
"Instantly one-shot Smoker."
That rumor alone would burn for at least a year.
Smoker had been famous in Loguetown for years—quietly feared, quietly respected.
Now?
He'd become a household name.
Ryukawa chuckled.
"Smoker, you really should thank me."
"You've been low-key for years. I made you famous."
"Being a 'celebrity' must feel great."
"Just don't forget the opponent who helped you get there…"
If Smoker ever heard that—
He'd probably jump out of bed, coughing blood, and scream:
"Yeah, THANKS A LOT FOR THAT!"
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