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[RLOP] Chapter : 18 - Orochi's predicament
🕑 Added 2025-09-07 15:50:54 +0000 UTCWith his dual blades sliding back into their scabbards, Lucci dispelled his Human-Beast form.
Hattori fluttered down to his side, its intelligent eyes glinting with a trace of quiet discontent. For once, however, the bird made no sound.
Lucci glanced at his hands—fingers trembling, unable to even form a proper fist. His eyes narrowed.
Every bone was broken.
Contrary to what Denjiro had believed, he wasn’t unscathed at all. Even with the monstrous resilience of a Mythical Zoan, each of Denjiro’s Ryou-infused strikes had torn through his body, leaving invisible but crushing damage behind.
The worst of it had landed on his hands, which had borne the full brunt of those sword clashes. Ten fingers, ten lines of agony, each one reaching straight to the heart. For an ordinary man, the pain alone would’ve left him writhing on the ground, screaming.
But Lucci was not ordinary.
Trained since childhood to resist torture and silence confessions, he had long ago dulled himself to the meaning of physical pain. Or rather—he had simply stopped recognizing it as something that mattered.
He could’ve wrapped his hands in Armament Haki, shielding himself from Denjiro’s Ryou. But he hadn’t.
Because Lucci believed that to master a power, one had to first endure it. To feel it break you down and still rise above it. After all—hadn’t Kaido forged his three Haki the same way? Blow by blow, scar by scar.
A sharp tingling began to spread through his hands, pulling his mind back from its thoughts. The Mythical Zoan’s vitality was already at work, knitting bone and sinew back together.
That was the true difference.
Denjiro had lost because his stamina waned and his wounds lingered. If he too had possessed the gift of a Mythical Zoan, then perhaps the outcome of tonight’s duel might not have been Lucci’s victory.
Lucci paused, letting the thought settle. His conviction only grew stronger—Haki, fused with the body of a Mythical Zoan, was unrivaled.
“Um… does it hurt a lot? Should I bandage it for you?”
The timid voice broke his thoughts. He turned.
Maria stood there, clutching a folded cloth in her hands. She looked nervous, her eyes darting toward his broken fingers. “Your hands… they look so badly hurt. This is a clean cloth, so…”
Lucci stared at her. For a fleeting moment, guilt stirred. He had almost forgotten someone like her was even here.
In her floral courtesan’s kimono, Maria stepped closer, cheeks faintly flushed as she gently took his hands into hers. His palms, smaller than hers, trembled slightly under her careful touch. Finding no rejection in his silence, she began to wrap the clean, fragrant cloth around them with deliberate tenderness. Two neat bows tied off the bandages, her warm hands lingering, holding his as though they were priceless treasures.
Familiar.
For a heartbeat, Lucci saw the image of a blonde girl in his mind. But the vision faded just as quickly. The person before him mattered more.
“Do you still have family alive?” he asked, his tone steady.
Maria hesitated, then shook her head. “I’ve never met my relatives. A farmer found me in the mountains… but as I grew older, they said I looked more and more like a monster. So… they sold me to the courtesan house.”
Her voice dropped lower as she went on. “Kyoshiro-san is dead now, and there’s no one left to run the house. I suppose… I’m free.”
“Today is… the first time I’ve ever attended a banquet.”
Lucci caught the unspoken weight in her words. His reply was as calm and unshaken as ever. “Is that so.”
The emptiness of it dimmed her eyes. She bit her lip, holding back tears, until—
“I’ve decided to buy you. Come with me.”
Her breath caught. “!”
“Yes!”
Overjoyed, she hurried after his retreating figure.
Meanwhile, elsewhere—
Orochi lay sprawled in his own blood, bones shattered, body broken. For the first time, he cursed his regenerative powers.
If only he could stay down.
But resistance? No. He had neither the courage nor the strength. All he could do was endure the Tobi Roppo’s merciless beating, praying they wouldn’t catch on.
They don’t know my Devil Fruit. As long as it stays hidden, no matter how much they break me, it’s only superficial damage. I just have to hold on.
His teeth clenched as he made his plan. Once their rage cooled, once they grew tired, he would crawl. Crawl to Lucci’s feet.
And once he became Lucci’s dog, he would do what he did best. Whisper poison. Sow discord. Just as he had done with Kozuki Oden all those years ago.
“Enough. If you keep hitting him like this…”
Amidst the Tobi Roppo’s chaotic, almost gleeful beating, Lucci appeared silently behind Ulti and placed a light hand on her shoulder. His voice was calm, almost bored.
“…he still won’t die.”
“Big Brother Lucci!” ×3
At once, Sasaki, Jack, and Page One stopped their assault and bowed their heads with respect.
They had been surrounding Orochi all this time, but their eyes often drifted toward the clash between Lucci and Denjiro.
To be honest—even for Sasaki, the eldest among them—that battle was on a level far beyond their reach.
And precisely because of that, their respect for Lucci had only deepened.
Unable to join him in combat, they vented their loyalty in the only way they could: by pummeling Orochi until he was barely recognizable.
Ulti, however, remained quiet. She ignored Page One’s call of Big Brother Lucci, her thoughts caught elsewhere.
At that moment, her delicate nose twitched toward the hand on her shoulder.
…Milk?
Her face warmed instantly. Realizing how inappropriate the timing was, she quickly straightened, pretending nothing had happened. Her narrowed eyes scanned the surroundings in forced nonchalance, but the flush spreading across her cheeks betrayed her inner turmoil.
From behind, Maria caught sight of this little exchange—and her own face flushed red, like a kettle whistling on the fire.
But Lucci paid them no mind. Too lazy to indulge in such distractions, he fixed his gaze on Orochi, who had once again regenerated his injuries. Carefully choosing his words, he spoke under the shogun’s trembling stare.
“Kyoshiro—hungry for wealth and glory—exposed himself as a Kozuki retainer and one of the Red Scabbards.”
“He revealed the whereabouts of the Kozuki survivors. Orochi was delighted, granting him the title of National Protector General.”
“But the Beasts Pirates had no intention of letting the flames of rebellion spread across Wano. So Orochi locked him away, then sent out every last one of his forces to hunt the Kozuki remnants.”
He paused, eyes narrowing at Orochi.
“Do you understand?”
“I understand! I understand, Lucci-sama! I’ll do it! I’ll see it through!”
Orochi collapsed into a full prostration, forehead striking the ground again and again. The more he bowed, the more fanatical his tone became, his hatred for the Kozuki clan blazing in his eyes.
“Yes, yes, I’ll hunt them down! Not a single Kozuki rat will escape!”
But Lucci’s next words froze him in place.
“You needn’t lift a finger.”
Orochi blinked.
“All you have to do… is sit quietly in prison.”
The next second, cold steel sank into his abdomen.
A small knife—its edge laced with seastone.
The shock made his eyes bulge wide as weakness flooded through his limbs. For the first time, his regenerative powers did nothing. The wound stayed open, bleeding, burning.
“I don’t have anything smaller than this,” Lucci said flatly, withdrawing his hand. “So don’t you dare die.”
