Silence descended over the street.
Not the peaceful quiet of a sleepy village.
Something heavier.
Something suffocating.
For several long moments, nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
Even the bandits seemed unsure whether they had heard Ian correctly.
The villagers exchanged stunned glances.
“Did he just…?”
An elderly fisherman swallowed hard.
“…say he’s going to kill Fushi?”
Another villager nodded numbly.
“I think he did.”
Several people instinctively took a step back.
Everyone in Shimotsuki Village knew Ian was strong.
After all, he had defeated Koushirou.
But strength was one thing.
Casually announcing that you intended to collect the bounty on a man worth nine million berries was another entirely.
To ordinary villagers, a bounty of that size was terrifying.
It belonged to monsters.
And Fushi hadn’t come alone.
There were dozens of armed bandits surrounding them.
Could a single swordsman really defeat them all?
Meanwhile, Zoro’s eyes were shining.
“That’s right, Master!”
The green-haired boy strained against his restraints.
“Beat him up!”
Then, as if that wasn’t enough, he shouted even louder.
“Cut him in half!”
Several villagers turned to stare.
Kuina immediately covered her face.
Again.
Fushi, however, wasn’t laughing anymore.
The muscles in his jaw twitched.
A vein bulged on his forehead.
For years, villages had trembled at the mention of his name.
For years, people had surrendered before he even arrived.
Yet today, some wandering swordsman had looked him in the eye and casually asked to borrow his head.
Borrow his head.
The humiliation burned.
His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword.
“You little bastard…”
His voice trembled with rage.
“Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”
Ian shrugged.
“Sure.”
The casual response only poured fuel onto the fire.
Fushi snapped.
“YOU’RE DEAD!”
Steel flashed.
His sword burst from its sheath in a blur.
The attack was so fast that most of the villagers never even saw it.
One moment Fushi was standing still.
The next, his blade was already cutting toward Ian’s neck.
A full-powered strike driven by fury.
Several bandits immediately erupted into cheers.
“Boss drew his sword!”
“That idiot’s finished!”
“I’ve seen that attack split a pirate clean in half!”
“Serves him right!”
They were already celebrating.
Already imagining Ian’s corpse hitting the ground.
Then—
CLANG!
The sharp metallic crash echoed across the village.
The cheering stopped.
Every expression froze.
Fushi’s sword had connected.
Just not with what anyone expected.
A dark violet blade blocked its path.
The Thousand Demon Blades.
Sunlight danced across its countless fragmented edges.
The strange weapon emitted a faint, eerie hum.
Ian stood exactly where he had been.
One hand holding the sword.
No strain.
No effort.
No dramatic display of strength.
It looked as though he had casually intercepted a tossed apple.
The bandits stared in disbelief.
“…What?”
One rubbed his eyes.
Another looked completely lost.
“How did he block that?”
“Boss attacked first!”
“And he wasn’t even ready!”
For the first time since arriving in Shimotsuki Village, uncertainty spread through the bandits.
Ian glanced at the crossed blades.
Then at Fushi.
A sigh escaped him.
Disappointment.
Genuine disappointment.
“A nine-million-berry bandit…”
His voice carried clearly through the stunned silence.
“…is weaker than I expected.”
The words landed harder than any blow.
Fushi’s face twisted.
“What did you say?”
His eyes burned with hatred.
“You arrogant brat!”
He ripped his sword free and leaped backward.
Then his body began to change.
Muscles swelled.
Veins bulged beneath his skin.
A violent aura erupted from him.
The surrounding bandits immediately recognized the signs.
Several retreated.
“Boss is serious now.”
“Oh, this is bad.”
One grinned viciously.
“That kid’s dead.”
Another laughed.
“Boss didn’t earn the name Butcher Fushi for nothing.”
Ian almost rolled his eyes.
These people really are terrible at naming things.
His expression remained calm.
The Thousand Demon Blades slowly rose.
The weapon vibrated faintly in his grasp.
Hungry.
Eager.
Almost alive.
A faint smile appeared on Ian’s face.
Let’s see what you can really do.
Fushi moved.
The ground exploded beneath his feet.
Cracks spread through the street as he launched himself forward.
His speed doubled.
Then doubled again.
The sword in his hands descended from above with enough force to split stone.
A killing blow.
The strongest attack he could muster.
Several villagers screamed.
Others turned away.
They couldn’t bear to watch.
Then Ian swung.
Just once.
A simple, effortless motion.
BOOM!
Steel collided.
A violent shockwave erupted outward.
Dust exploded into the air.
Windows rattled.
Loose debris scattered across the street.
Then came a scream.
“AAAAAAAHHHH!”
Fushi’s.
The massive bandit was launched backward like a cannonball.
His sword shattered apart.
Fragments spun through the air.
A deep wound tore across his chest.
Blood burst from the gash.
He crashed into the dirt and rolled several times before finally coming to a stop.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Fushi lay there, staring at the sky.
Confusion.
Disbelief.
Fear.
All of it was written plainly across his face.
His attack had been stronger.
He had attacked first.
So why was he the one lying on the ground?
Why was he the one bleeding?
The answer was simple.
The gap between them was overwhelming.
But Fushi couldn’t accept it.
Around him, silence returned.
The bandits looked petrified.
Moments ago, they had been laughing.
Mocking.
Celebrating.
Now, not one of them dared speak.
Their invincible leader had been defeated in a single exchange.
The sight shattered whatever confidence they had left.
Fushi coughed violently.
Blood spilled from his mouth.
Then he noticed something strange.
His body felt weak.
Far weaker than it should.
The strength he had relied upon for years was disappearing.
Draining away.
His eyes snapped toward Ian’s sword.
“T-That weapon…”
His voice cracked.
“What is it?”
Fear entered his eyes.
Real fear.
“Why is it taking my strength?”
Ian glanced at the Thousand Demon Blades.
A faint smile touched his lips.
“One of its little tricks.”
The answer only made Fushi more afraid.
Ian began walking forward.
Slow.
Steady.
Each footstep echoed through the silent street.
Nobody dared interfere.
Nobody dared make a sound.
For the first time in years, genuine panic filled Fushi’s heart.
He tried to crawl backward.
Tried to create distance.
It was useless.
“You…”
His voice shook.
“Wait—”
The sword flashed.
Too fast to follow.
SLASH.
A spray of blood painted the dirt.
A second wound opened across his body.
The smell of iron filled the air.
Fushi collapsed.
His mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
Words tried to form.
None came.
The light in his eyes faded rapidly.
The villagers watched in stunned silence.
Ian stood over him.
He could see everything written on the dying man’s face.
Fear.
Regret.
Realization.
Then Ian smiled.
A warm, easy smile.
The sort one might wear while sharing drinks with friends.
He rested the Thousand Demon Blades across his shoulder.
“Thanks.”
His voice was light.
Almost cheerful.
“For the nine million berries.”
And just like that—
The reign of Bandit King Fushi came to an end.