Chapter Forty-One: The Kill! [Third Update]

A gust of wind burst forth, centered on their fists, releasing a powerful surge of energy. The snowflakes drifting from the sky were scattered before they could even approach, swept away by this force. Beneath the overwhelming pressure of their blows, the ice cracked inch by inch and swiftly melted, revealing a pit more than ten meters deep where the two stood, exposing the original structure of the prison.

Shu Mingyuan’s strike had been enough to severely wound three awakened Zoan Devil Fruit users and the warden, Sadi, on the fourth basement level. Yet Kurosta withstood it. His physique was indeed as he claimed; twenty years ago, among the navy, few matched his mastery of martial arts.

Though he endured, his arm trembled, showing that even for him, the defense was far from effortless.

“Boy, excellent. All these years, you’re the only man whose strength can still contend with mine. The blood that’s been cold for so long is finally boiling again.”

“Soru!”

“Finger Pistol!”

Transformed, Kurosta’s body was twice its former size, his snow-white fur blending with the surroundings. With his unpredictable speed, he became almost impossible to guard against. Thankfully, Shu Mingyuan had activated his Sharingan in advance; otherwise, this battle would have been truly perilous.

“Whew...” Shu Mingyuan exhaled as Kurosta’s figure rapidly enlarged in his vision. His hands formed seals.

“Leaf Shadow Dance!”

At the critical moment, he evaded, and Kurosta’s finger strike pierced the air, sending a bullet-like shockwave shooting through the ice a hundred meters away.

Shu Mingyuan pressed his hands to the ground, legs coiled with power, launching Kurosta skyward with a kick. He followed, body twisting, right leg whipping down like a long lash.

“Lion Barrage!”

“Moonwalk!”

Sensing Shu Mingyuan’s move, Kurosta stamped on the air, leaping higher and narrowly avoiding Shu Mingyuan’s heavy strike.

“Damn!”

He looked up at the polar bear monster overhead, inwardly cursing. Soru and Moonwalk weren’t like the other six styles—they required technique, not just brute force. Even knowing their principle, one couldn’t perform them without skill. In battle, he’d attempted Soru, but at most managed eight consecutive steps in a moment—far short of the ten required for high-speed movement.

Thus, he lacked the ability for brief aerial suspension.

“This is bad.”

“Gahahaha! Boy, let’s see you dodge this time! Die for me!”

Kurosta used Moonwalk to close in quickly. Without hesitation, Shu Mingyuan’s hands formed seals, and he unleashed a massive fireball. With the Sharingan, his Grand Fireball Technique reached thirty meters in diameter, its heat far greater than before. From below, it was as if a fiery sun had appeared in the sky.

Kurosta was engulfed in flames. Using the Sharingan, Shu Mingyuan tracked his exact position. At once, Chidori crackled—its ten-meter-long spear piercing forth, stabbing fiercely at the “coordinate” he saw.

At the same time, Kurosta, propelled by Moonwalk, stepped out of the sea of fire—only to be met by a spear charged with extreme lightning. There was no time to use Iron Body; the Chidori spear pierced his chest in an instant.

He coughed blood, stamping the air again, and his figure, like a cannonball, hurtled toward the youth.

“Bear King Hammer!”

Both bear paws clasped together, raised overhead, he smashed down at Shu Mingyuan’s abdomen.

“Iron Body!”

Though Shu Mingyuan used Iron Body in time, Kurosta’s pain-fueled, hate-driven strike couldn’t be easily received. Iron Body’s defense shattered instantly, and Shu Mingyuan was hammered into the ice like a cannonball.

Kurosta’s chest was pierced through by the Chidori spear, lightning rampaging inside him. Severely wounded, he could no longer maintain his polar bear form, reverting rapidly to his original appearance and falling from the sky onto the ice, blood gushing from the gaping hole in his chest.

Shu Mingyuan felt his organs shift from the impact. Unlike Luffy’s rubber body, he was no stranger to physical attacks; he was flesh and blood. He spat a mouthful of blood. Fortunately, the blow landed on his abdomen, not his chest or spine, or his life might have ended here.

His stamina value approached 700—equivalent to about 3500 Doriki. CP9’s Rob Lucci, the only genius in eight hundred years, had but 4000 Doriki. Moreover, Kurosta was no longer in his prime, had been imprisoned for twenty years, and his strength was much diminished.

For all these reasons, Shu Mingyuan managed to survive the battle, emerging as the sole victor.

“Whew... I really underestimated him. Even after so many years, a pirate with a 300 million bounty isn’t to be taken lightly—each one is formidable.”

He struggled to his feet and walked to Kurosta, seeing him lying powerless, gasping for breath. After reverting from his polar bear form, he seemed to have aged years in moments. Shu Mingyuan knew this was the sign of a life force rapidly fading.

He had just escaped imprisonment, hadn’t rested or eaten, and immediately engaged in a fierce battle. His already limited stamina was barely sustained; that Overlord Spear had nearly drained him, and using his abilities afterward almost exhausted him completely.

In the end, Kurosta had underestimated Shu Mingyuan and overestimated his own strength—he was no longer the man he once was.

“Heh, boy, I suppose... you got lucky. If I’d dodged a vital spot, it’d be you lying here now.” Kurosta’s pride remained; even at this point, he refused to admit defeat. Rather than losing to Shu Mingyuan, he believed he’d lost to himself.

Yet, from his heart, he admired the monstrous youth before him—a prodigy with inhuman learning ability. Though seemingly still a minor, his fighting instincts were almost innate.

Ordinary people wouldn’t have responded so swiftly. First, a fireball blinded his vision; then, a lightning spear pierced him the instant his form vanished—a flawless combination.

“Heh, are you done talking? If so, then please die. I must thank you for being my sparring partner—I was able to learn the Navy’s Six Styles.”

“Your head—six thousand Justice Points. I’ll be taking it.”

Shu Mingyuan’s tone was indifferent. The Chidori spear appeared again; with a single swing, the head rolled cleanly from its shoulders.

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