All the gun-wielding pirates froze in their tracks.
Following the direction of the sound, through the thin mist, a figure slowly ambled out.
Ron walked very slowly.
He wore an oversized white shirt left wide open, with water droplets sliding down his toned abdominal muscles.
On his lower body, he wore a pair of loud, floral-patterned shorts, and on his feet, he shuffled in a pair of blue flip-flops.
In his left hand, he held a glass.
The glass was covered in condensation, and mint leaves floated in the bright yellow juice.
As his fingers gave it a slight shake, the ice cubes clinked crisply against the glass.
This incongruous, laid-back vibe caused the brains of these thugs, who spent their lives licking blood off the edge of a blade, to collectively cease functioning.
What kind of place was this?
This was a death trap where a firefight had just ended, with bullets still lodged in the bark of trees.
The way this young man walked, it was as if he were strolling through his own backyard.
Bluejam’s right wrist hurt like hell.
The hard object that had knocked his pistol away had already melted into a puddle, seeping into the mud.
Seeing the newcomer’s arrogant demeanor, Bluejam’s temper instantly exploded.
“Are you blind, you bastard?” Bluejam took a step forward.
His leather boots crunched through the rotting leaves.
“So you’re the big brother of these brats?
Running here to seek death?”
Ace was pinned to the ground.
The veins in his neck bulged as he strained his neck and shouted.
“Run!
Don’t come over here!
They have guns!”
His iron pipe had long since been thrown three meters away.
Sabo knelt in the mud.
A chill crawled up his spine and spread throughout his body.
Dragging someone else into this was worse than killing him.
“Bluejam!” Sabo roared at the top of his lungs.
“Let them go!
You only want me, spare them!”
Luffy, lying on the ground, completely disregarded common sense.
His rubbery face was distorted from the pressure, but his mouth was stretched wide.
“Blast them away!
They stepped on and ruined the wild boar meat!”
The pirates surrounding them completely ignored the three brats’ cries.
Accompanied by the crisp sound of metal mechanisms clicking, over thirty long-barreled muskets shifted their aim in unison.
Every sight was locked onto Ron.
Fingers rested on the triggers, the gunpowder already loaded.
With just a slight squeeze, lead bullets would turn the person into a sieve.
Ron stopped in his tracks.
His gaze remained fixed only on his glass.
He brought his lips to the straw and took a forceful sip.
The slurping sound was amplified infinitely in the forest.
He let out a satisfied sigh and spoke to the empty space.
“Makino’s ratio of ice is getting more and more exquisite.
One part less and it wouldn’t suppress the sweetness; one part more and it would dilute the fruit flavor.”
The pirates’ facial muscles began to twitch uncontrollably.
Was he treating them like decorations?
Someone started cursing under their breath, their thumb rubbing repeatedly against the hammer.
Ron spotted a low tree stump nearby that had just been split by a blade.
The cross-section was relatively flat.
He walked over step by step and, with extremely precise movements, placed the glass squarely in the center of the tree rings.
“It was just freshly squeezed; getting dust on it would ruin the mood.” Ron brushed the water droplets off his hands.
The veins on Bluejam’s forehead were throbbing.
He drew the spare flintlock from behind his waist, leveled it with one hand, and hooked his index finger directly onto the hammer.
“I’ll grant your wish!
You pretentious freak!”
Just as he was about to pull the trigger, Ron reached his right hand behind his back.
With a flick of his wrist, he pulled out a large bundle of things from a void that no one could comprehend.
The pirates in the front row widened their eyes.
Their breathing tightened.
They were bracing themselves for some unseen heavy weapon, and a few subconsciously shrank back half a step.
[High-Pressure Water Gun Hose (Infinite Water Version, Adjustable Water Pressure)]
Ron supported the hose with his left hand, while his right hand casually gripped the handle of the goose-yellow nozzle.
Standing there, he looked exactly like a cleaning guy ready to wash a car.
A cold wind swept up a few fallen leaves.
The pirates stared at that blob of fluorescent green.
A bearded pirate reached out and rubbed his eyes to confirm he hadn’t misseen.
Pfft.
Someone couldn’t hold back their laughter.
This laughter was highly contagious.
In less than half a second, the entire Bluejam Pirates erupted into wild laughter.
Some pirates laughed until they doubled over.
Others slammed their gun butts against the ground, tears welling up in their eyes.
“What is that?
A decorative rope?
Planning to dance for us?”
“Good god, was this kid kicked in the head by a donkey?
Bringing a broken hose to fight muskets?”
Bluejam clutched his stomach.
The pain in his right hand largely eclipsed by this comical scene.
“Are you here to be a janitor?” Bluejam pointed at the muddy water on the ground and said contemptuously.
“Planning to wash the ground for us with a hose?
Kid, is that little bit of water enough to water flowers?”
The surrounding pirates jeered even more brazenly.
Even Ace and Sabo on the ground were stunned.
They had seen their big brother’s god-like abilities, but facing muskets with a plastic hose was completely beyond their comprehension.
The laughter was deafening.
Ron lowered his eyes, examining the structure of the yellow nozzle.
Above the handle, a red knob indicator was embedded.
On the edge of the indicator, a row of small characters was printed: Shower, Mist, High-Pressure Jet.
He was too familiar with this configuration from his previous life.
It was very effective for washing away stubborn mud in tire crevices.
The pirates’ foul language became increasingly unbearable to listen to.
Ron pressed his thumb onto that red knob.
Click.
High-Pressure Jet setting.
The originally limp hose grew taut on the surface.
Immense pressure was generated out of thin air, and the hose body even began to thrash uncontrollably on the ground.
Ron leveled the nozzle, aiming it at Bluejam’s face.
His finger hooked onto the trigger.
“No.
It’s to wash your brains.”
His finger pressed down, pulling it all the way.
Pfft, bang!
The explosive sound of water colliding with air echoed through the forest.
A pure white water jet, as thick as a child’s arm, shot out violently.
The pirate blocking the front didn’t even have time to scream before the water jet smashed directly into his chest.
With a few crisp cracks, his sternum collapsed.
The two-hundred-pound brute’s feet left the ground, and his entire body flew backward four or five meters, knocking down three of his companions behind him.
The four of them rolled into a heap, unconscious in the muddy water.
The recoil of the water pressure made even Ron’s own arm jerk back half an inch.
This car-washing artifact from the system, with its infinite water and high-pressure mode, was more than enough to cut through steel plates.
The laughter ceased abruptly.
Everyone’s facial expressions froze in the mockery of the previous second.
Bluejam’s pupils contracted sharply.
That was absolutely not a water pistol.
That was a plastic cannon.
“Fire!
Kill him!” Bluejam shrieked.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.
Guns fired indiscriminately.
Acrid smoke enveloped the area in front of the low tree stump.
Dozens of lead bullets covered the area in a fan shape.
Ron stood his ground.
His wrist moving horizontally, and the nozzle of the water gun swept across in line with his movements.
The powerful water jet carved a fan-shaped curtain of water in mid-air.
Those high-speed lead bullets, the moment they hit this ultra-high-pressure water jet, had their kinetic energy violently negated.
The bullets lost their momentum and clattered, one by one, into the mud.
The water jet’s remaining force was undiminished as it swept across in a fan shape.
The dozen or so pirates in the front row holding guns fell one after another.
Wails rose and fell one after another.
Someone’s wrist was snapped by the water jet, and their musket flew into the air.
Someone’s leg bone was snapped by the impact, and they collapsed onto the gravel-filled ground.
On the two old tree trunks behind them, as thick as a man could embrace, water-cut marks an inch deep were left behind, with wood chips flying everywhere.
It only took the time of a single breath.
The Bluejam Pirates’ pride-and-joy musket formation was completely smashed.
Ron released his finger, and the water jet cut off accordingly.
The hose was still thrashing excitedly on the ground, with clear water droplets dripping from the nozzle.
On the ground, the carefree Luffy had stars in his eyes and struggled to crawl up.
“So cool!
Big brother, I want to play with that hose too!”
Bluejam retreated to the outermost perimeter, holding a flintlock in his hand.
His legs shaking uncontrollably.
The notorious villain of the East Blue, who had been so fearless just a moment ago, was now soaked to the bone, staring at Ron with an expression of seeing a ghost.
Ron walked closer unhurriedly.
His flip-flops making a casual slapping sound.
“This water pressure is to wash your brains.”
He hooked his finger onto the water gun trigger again, and the hum of the water pressure building up sounded once more.
“I’d say, it’s just right.”
…
Author’s Note:
One Piece: The Lazy Brother of Luffy —
Dragon Ball: Oolong’s Sex Adventure
2.
Elements of Lust – ATLA & Korra Mixed Smut
3.
Doraemon: Filtering with Nobi Tamako
4.
The Naive Me Who Became Someone’s Everyday Secret
5.
High School DxD: Rias Gremory, the Phenex Bride
6.