One Piece: Creating Avatars Start With Ryomen Sukuna

Chapter 373: They're Living Beings Too!

Red Line, Holy Land Marijoa.

Whoosh!

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Fierce winds howled, stinging faces like a thousand tiny needles, while the ground trembled violently, sending hearts racing with dread. Once a dazzling symbol of wealth and grandeur, the Holy Land was now a chaotic battlefield.

Shockwaves ripped through the air, hurling sand and gravel in all directions. Elegant buildings cracked or collapsed into rubble, and vibrant greenery, trees, shrubs, and flowers, bent low, snapped, or were torn away by the gusts. Thick plumes of smoke rose into the sky, signaling fires erupting across the city.

As the demons attacked once more, clashes reignited throughout Marijoa. The entire Holy Land descended into utter chaos.

"Damn it, where are the guards? Save us!"

"How is this happening in the Holy Land?!"

The opulent mansions of nobles and World Government officials crumbled or went up in flames. Their owners, frantic, surveyed the surroundings and saw nothing but war. Strange, humanoid black mists prowled the streets, wreaking havoc. Sometimes, these mists passed through guards or marines, forcing them to their knees in agony.

The mists would extend shadowy, tendril-like hands into their victims' bodies. Moments later, those victims were lifeless.

The sight sent chills through the nobles. Exhausted and terrified, they scrambled to avoid the roving mists, all while dodging the shockwaves from battles between stronger fighters. The guards were either protecting the Celestial Dragons or too overwhelmed to assist.

As residents of the Holy Land, these nobles and officials had never imagined facing mortal danger in their sanctuary.

'Someone, please, save us!'

Whoosh!

Boom!

A blinding golden laser cut through the chaos, followed by a thunderous explosion. The blast consumed a hovering humanoid black mist, obliterating it.

The commotion drew the attention of nobles and officials hiding in shattered buildings or among ruins.

"It's Vice Admiral Kizaru! We're saved!"

In their eyes, Kizaru's figure, strolling casually with hands in his pockets, was nothing short of angelic. They couldn't endure another second on this hellish battlefield. How could such refined, noble people perish here?

"These demons are real monsters," Kizaru muttered, barely glancing at the cheering nobles. His focus was on the demons he had just blasted apart.

Their fragmented bodies were slowly knitting back together. In mere moments, the pieces reformed into whole, though translucent, figures.

Kizaru's brow twitched. For low-tier demons to survive his Light-Light Fruit powers was unexpected. If the entire demon race shared this resilience, they truly earned the title of "monsters."

Sure, Haki could hurt them. But how many people mastered Haki? In the New World, it was said even "small fries" could use it, but that was relative. To Vice Admirals or Admirals, those were nobodies. To the common folk, they were untouchable elites.

Many of Marijoa's guards lacked Haki. Stationed near Marine Headquarters and supported by the Marine G1 branch, the Holy Land was a cushy posting with natural defenses. Expecting ordinary guards to be powerhouses in such a comfortable environment was absurd.

Without Haki, defeating demons meant grueling attrition, or sacrificing lives. Demons in this world feed on the negative emotions of intelligent life. Perhaps influenced by those with Haki potential, they gravitated toward melee combat, even the low-tier ones.

These demons had no unique traits; their cores were unstable, granting only basic racial abilities. With animal-like intelligence, their combat style was simplistic.

Their primary method was melee: their bodies, brimming with negative energy, could phase through ordinary people. This flooded victims with physical and mental corruption, leaving them weak, cold, and despairing. Facing a half-kneeling enemy, the demon would plunge a negative-energy hand into their heart, overwhelming it until it failed, killing the person.

Their secondary attack, usable at range, targeted the spirit with negative energy. Mid- and high-tier demons called this "magic piercing." For low-tier demons, it was taxing, especially when used to kill. As spiritual entities, using it when weakened was risky.

For coreless low-tier demons, magic power was their lifeline. If depleted, passing through a human could let the human's energy drain them, potentially killing the demon. This was the only way non-Haki users could defeat them.

"Marine Kizaru, get us to the shelter now! Our precious lives can't end here!"

As Kizaru studied the demons, nearby nobles and officials swarmed him. They'd heard of his strength. In this chaos, he was their salvation.

"Sorry, I've got to head to Pangea Castle to back up the Five Elders," Kizaru said. "But don't worry, the G1 branch Marines are already here. They'll get you to safety soon."

The nobles' hopeful expressions crumbled. Kizaru, amused, stroked his chin and looked at the well-fed aristocrats with a smirk.

The G1 branch, just down the Red Line in the New World, was a stone's throw away. Its Marines were already pouring in to rescue people. As the largest Marine base in the New World, G1 housed over 20,000 elite troops post-conscription, tasked with defending Marijoa.

"This…" The nobles' faces fell at Kizaru's words.

One, dressed in lavish purple and black robes, waved hands glittering with gemstone rings. He gritted his teeth and said, "Vice Admiral Kizaru, how about a deal? Escort us to safety, and I'll pay you, 100 million Berries! No, 200 million!"

If he could avoid it, this noble wanted nothing to do with the Five Elders' troubles. But without Kizaru, he doubted he'd last long. In a crisis like this, his life came first.

Hearing the offer, other nobles jumped in. For Holy Land aristocrats, a few hundred million Berries wasn't chump change, but they could manage it with effort. To survive, even the stingiest would pay, and they were experts at greasing palms.

"This is tricky," Kizaru said while looking at the nobles like adorable cash cows. "But… it is not impossible."

This wasn't just about saving lives, it was a golden opportunity.

Kizaru's lips curled into a sly grin. The Five Elders could hold out a bit longer, right? A little side money wouldn't hurt.

"But…" He glanced at the dozen-plus nobles, his eyes glinting beneath his sunglasses. "This place is a warzone. Every second here feels like walking a tightrope."

The nobles lit up, overjoyed.

"I'm delaying my mission to support the Five Elders for you guys," Kizaru added. "So, you know… you'll have to pay extra."

The nobles blinked and looked confused.

Money could be earned back, but a lost life was gone forever. These pampered aristocrats were living beings too!

Under their pleading, puppy-like gazes, Kizaru flashed a warm, almost fatherly smile.

(End of Chapter)