One Piece: With Sign-in System

The moment that claw-shaped gust of wind was crushed like paper by Ron's overwhelming punch, and the force surged forward with destructive power—Sanemi Shinazugawa hadn't even registered what had happened.

By the time he came to his senses, his body was already airborne, flung backward like a rag doll.

CRASH—CRACK—SMASH!

He slammed through several thick trees, snapping trunks like toothpicks, and finally crashed into a dense bush, leaving only the sound of rustling leaves in his wake.

Watching this unfold, Mitsuri Kanroji blinked in stunned silence, her rosy lips parting.

"Ehh… Eh?!" she gasped, face frozen in disbelief.

Several figures appeared beside her.

A towering monk-like man, blind with a long scar across his forehead, clasped his hands together. Himejima Gyomei, the Stone Hashira, shed tears as he muttered solemnly, "Such terrifying power behind a single punch…"

Standing tall with blazing eyes, Kyojuro Rengoku, the Flame Hashira, his long yellow-red hair cascading over a flame-patterned haori, stared directly at the black-clad young man beside Shinobu.

"To send Sanemi flying with just a punch… Are you truly human?"

Iguro Obanai, the Serpent Hashira, his mismatched eyes—gold on the right, green on the left—narrowed behind bandages. He crossed his arms as his long black hair draped over his striped haori like kelp.

"Sanemi was merely testing him. Don't you think you went a bit too far?"

Tengen Uzui, the flamboyant Sound Hashira, towering and muscular with his gem-studded headband sparkling in the sunlight, narrowed his eyes at Ron. His hand reached behind to grip one of his twin swords.

"Why waste time talking? Let's just have a flashy fight already."

Shinobu narrowed her eyes slightly, stepping forward between them. Her voice was calm but tinged with a warning.

"Ron is a guest personally invited by Master. What do you all think you're doing?"

Rengoku answered her bluntly and without hesitation, "It's nothing, really. It's just that everyone's a bit wary of his background."

He pointed a thumb over his shoulder, his voice bold and righteous.

"The location of our headquarters is a closely guarded secret. Outsiders are never allowed here—especially someone with an unknown origin. Naturally, we must stay vigilant!"

Obanai nodded in agreement. "He's right."

Sitting lazily on a stone in the courtyard, Muichiro Tokito, the Mist Hashira, tilted his head up toward the drifting clouds, his expression vacant.

With the exception of Giyu Tomioka, the Water Hashira, every Hashira was now present—nine of the Demon Slayer Corps' strongest swordsmen gathered together. Even Sanemi, who was currently lodged in a bush, counted among them.

Around them, several Demon Slayer foot soldiers and members of the Kakushi unit began to gather, whispering amongst themselves.

"What was that loud noise just now?"

"Something flew past us just now… or was that my imagination?"

"Who's the man standing next to Lady Shinobu? He looks unfamiliar."

"Never seen him before… and he's not wearing the uniform or carrying a Nichirin blade. Who is he?"

"What are the Hashira doing? It looks like they're confronting him…"

"Don't tell me they're fighting among themselves?!"

"Idiot, not with Lord Ubuyashiki here! That's impossible!"

"Well, even so… something's definitely off. The atmosphere feels… tense."

A member of the Kakushi immediately sensed that something was wrong and rushed off toward the Master's residence to report the situation.

Facing the stern presence of several Hashira, Shinobu Kocho gripped the hilt of her Nichirin blade at her waist, her voice turning cold:

"Mr. Ron is a guest I personally invited back. If you have any objections, take them up with me instead of rudely cornering a guest at the gate, don't you think?"

Mitsuri Kanroji, the Love Hashira, blinked.

'Shinobu-chan really looks angry... but even angry, she's so cute~' she thought to herself.

Still, her gaze kept drifting toward the man standing quietly beside Shinobu—a tall young man whose height could rival that of Gyomei Himejima, with a well-proportioned and lean figure.

'He's... unexpectedly handsome, too.'

A blush crept up Mitsuri's cheeks, her eyes sparkling with infatuation.

"I understand, Shinobu,"

Obanai Iguro, the Serpent Hashira, looked over and said, "We didn't want it to come to this either. But the Demon Slayer Corps has always been a place where those who share the same will—to eradicate demons—gather, trust one another, and understand each other well enough to entrust their backs."

He turned to the tall young man with jet black hair, dressed in black with a silver-blue flask at his waist. His gaze, sharp like a serpent, locked onto Ron.

"And not someone with a mysterious background, unclear intentions, and power that surpasses reason."

Kyojuro Rengoku planted his Nichirin blade firmly into the ground, nodding with his usual boisterous enthusiasm:

"Well said! At the very least, we must be able to trust you!"

"Exactly. That's why…"

Tengen Uzui narrowed his eyes at Ron, his gaze sharp.

"Mind telling us where you're from? And what's up with that monster-like strength of yours?"

Gyomei Himejima pressed his palms together, tears trickling down his cheeks.

"What a pitiful soul… No matter what your past may hold, I am willing to listen with an open heart."

As the Flame, Stone, Sound, and Serpent Hashira stood united in their intent, an overwhelming pressure surged forth from their combined presence.

Shinobu couldn't help but glance toward Ron.

Since the moment he threw that punch, he hadn't uttered a single word. He just stood there, listening quietly, his expression as calm as a still lake, eyes watching them without a ripple.

Worried, she finally called out:

"Mr. Ron…"

"Hmm?"

"…Are you angry?"

"I'm not angry," Ron replied with a faint smile.

Facing the lineup of Hashira before him, he added with a soft chuckle:

"I just find it amusing."

"Amusing?" Shinobu repeated, confused.

What's amusing about this?

Ron turned his gaze back to the group of Hashira, a sly grin dancing on his lips.

"Let me give you a metaphor, and you'll understand."

He gestured toward the group before him.

"Imagine an ant nest on the brink of collapse. The ants, in desperation, throw themselves into rebuilding it. A kind-hearted human comes along, wanting to help—but as he gets closer, a few ants who believe themselves strong rush out to block his path. They wave their tiny antennae, baring their fangs, demanding to know his purpose."

His tone took on a mocking lilt.

"Quite the vivid image, don't you think?"

Shinobu froze in place.

The expressions of the other Hashira darkened at once.

In a flash, Tengen Uzui vanished from his spot. With both Nichirin blades drawn, he appeared directly before Ron, eyes cold and narrowed.

"Take back what you just said."

Ron tilted his head slightly, still smiling.

"Struck a nerve? Did the little ants get their pride wounded?"

Tengen's eyes narrowed to slits, and the next moment—his blades sliced down like lightning, twin arcs of silver glinting with deadly precision.

Sound Breathing: First Form!

BOOM!

The detonation echoed as Tengen's custom explosives, embedded within his dual blades, erupted the moment they struck.

Shinobu leapt out of range just in time, narrowly avoiding the blast radius.

She landed with a sharp frown, glaring into the smoke.

"Mr. Ron!"

From within the thick smoke, Tengen's mocking voice rang out:

"If you couldn't even dodge that, then you're just a muscle-headed brute. And you think you can look down on the Demon Slayer Corps? Who gave you that kind of confidence?"

Just then—

A hand reached out from the thick, swirling smoke.

Before Tengen could react, it was already wrapped around his neck.

"What?!"

Tengen's face went pale with shock.

As the dust settled, a completely unharmed Ron stepped forward, his appearance as immaculate as before.

He stood tall, holding Tengen by the neck with one hand, lifting the muscular Hashira off the ground with ease.

The gathered crowd stared in stunned silence.

Amused, Ron glanced up at the man in his grasp—whose face was now flushed red—and spoke with a taunting smile:

"Couldn't dodge it? I just didn't feel like moving. An attack that can't even tear my clothes? Why bother dodging at all?"