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[RLOP] Chapter : 16 - Orochi's Plea
🕑 Added 2025-09-07 15:02:13 +0000 UTCThe words had barely left Lucci’s lips—
Beast Pirates roared
The Zoan users exploded into motion, like caged animals unleashed by their tamer. Fangs bared, claws gleaming, they descended upon the Oniwabanshu, who still had the will to resist.
Jack, Sasaki, Page One, and Ulti were no different.
Their Ancient Zoan forms loomed monstrously over the battlefield. A few thunderous charges were all it took to scatter and dismantle Orochi’s once-proud guard corps.
But then, something unexpected happened.
Instead of hunting the survivors, the Beasts Pirates abruptly reverted from their beast forms, sprinting straight toward Orochi’s fallen body.
“What’s happening!?”
“Do they… do they know the Shogun’s secret!?”
One Oniwabanshu ninja deflected snapping fangs with a desperate slash, his blade shaking. His eyes darted toward the two comrades frantically defending Orochi’s “corpse,” but he couldn’t break away—another beast was already upon him, forcing his sword up in defense.
The battlefield had turned into chaos incarnate.
The Oniwabanshu found themselves outnumbered and overwhelmed. Honor meant nothing here; the pirates fought like predators, ganging up in packs, taking turns with bites, kicks, and crushing blows.
Blood sprayed, screams rose. Defeat was no longer a possibility—it was an inevitability.
On the other side of the fray, cold sweat slid down Kyoshiro’s temple.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of his men torn to ribbons beneath a swarm of laughing beasts.
He could almost hear their savage chant:
“Grab the parts! Big Brother Lucci will make them into cadres!”
Madness.
Pure madness.
The Oniwabanshu had stood for centuries as Wano’s elite ninja corps, sworn to shield the Shogun. Even if he had chosen to intervene, cutting them down so swiftly would have been impossible.
And yet, here they were—falling like paper before Lucci’s horde.
Kyoshiro swallowed hard and tightened his grip on his katana.
The chaos raged everywhere but here. His surroundings had become an eerie vacuum. No one dared step close.
All because of him.
“Rob Lucci!” Kyoshiro’s voice rang sharp. “Are the Beasts Pirates declaring war on Wano!?”
The tall figure before him did not flinch. Calm, cold, his feathered silhouette loomed like a phantom.
“What’s the matter?” Lucci’s gaze cut through him. “Shouldn’t you be happy I killed Orochi?”
“What do you mean!”
Kyoshiro’s heart thundered as confusion flickered across his face. But the words that followed nearly split him in two.
“Oh, I see… wrong man, isn’t it? After all, I’m not Kozuki Momonosuke—the one sent seventeen years into the future. Right, Denjiro?”
The act crumbled instantly.
Denjiro’s eyes sharpened to a razor edge, killing intent erupting as his aura flared. In the same breath, his katana flashed.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A storm of slashes ripped toward Lucci’s vital points, the air itself screaming under the weight of his fury. But Denjiro never lingered to see if they landed—he was already sprinting toward Orochi.
Escape!
I must escape with him!
He didn’t know how he’d been exposed. He couldn’t fathom how Lucci knew of the time-travel secret. But one thing burned like fire in his chest:
This was not the prophesied day.
Not the hour of Orochi’s death.
Not the dawn of the final battle.
Orochi had to live. Live until the promised seventeen years passed. Live until the young master returned to strike him down. Live until Wano saw a clear sky once more.
With that belief, Denjiro drove his legs harder against the earth.
But then—he froze.
The tall, winged figure was already there, blocking his path once again.
So fast.
Too fast.
Denjiro’s eyes widened in disbelief. He hadn’t even been able to see Lucci move.
If not for the cutting wind against his skin, Denjiro would have sworn he was facing a Mythical Zoan with teleportation powers.
Even more shocking was the evidence before his eyes—his slashes had torn Lucci’s pristine white suit.
That could only mean one thing:
when those deadly strikes had been aimed straight at his vitals, Lucci hadn’t blocked. He hadn’t dodged.
He had taken them head-on.
“If this is the limit of your strength, I’ll be disappointed,” Lucci said flatly.
With a casual tug, he ripped off the remnants of his ruined suit, exposing a body like sculpted steel—powerful muscles covered in flawless white fur, not a single scar marring his frame.
Denjiro’s slashes hadn’t even grazed him.
“Three years of lying low shouldn’t have dulled your Haki this much,” Lucci continued coldly.
At that moment, the broad white wings sprouting from his back shimmered, dissolving into radiant light. The brilliance condensed, reforming in his hands as two enormous nodachi. One blade dragged menacingly across the ground, the other rested lightly on his shoulder.
“Fight me with everything you have,” Lucci said, his tone as sharp as the blades he carried. “Do that, and I’ll let you fall with dignity. Refuse…”
His gaze narrowed, a cold gleam in his eye.
“…and seventeen years from now, Kozuki Momonosuke will return to find nothing but a wasteland.”
Silence pressed between them.
At last, Denjiro’s ridiculous pompadour slipped free, revealing his true face. His voice was low, incredulous:
“…How do you know all this?”
“Because I come from the future.”
“…Is that so?”
Denjiro’s grip tightened. And then, without another word—
He charged.
His blade flashed, speed surging to new heights, aimed straight at Lucci’s head.
Clang!
Steel rang out. Dust exploded around them. The clash of swords reverberated again and again, blades moving too fast for the eye to follow.
“Yes…” Lucci’s lips curved into a predator’s smile. “This is the prey worth hunting.”
A sweeping strike of his nodachi sent Denjiro skidding back across the ground. Black-purple Haki flared along Denjiro’s katana, and Lucci, eyes gleaming, launched forward once more.
…
Meanwhile, at Orochi’s “corpse.”
Jack and Sasaki had just bulldozed through the Oniwabanshu guards, leaving them sprawled in the dirt. Before the two ninjas could even catch their breath, a pack of Zoan beasts swarmed them, clawing and tearing in a frenzy.
“Oi, oi! Didn’t you already grab a leg? Share that with me!”
“You idiot! If both of us have it, it’s meaningless! If I have it and you don’t—that’s when it really counts!”
While the underlings squabbled over scraps, the Tobiroppo had a single, clear objective.
Jack, Sasaki, Page One, and Ulti encircled Orochi’s “corpse,” their faces twisted with anger. Then, without hesitation, they unleashed a savage storm of fists and kicks.
They didn’t care how dishonorable it looked. Even a corpse wasn’t safe from their fury.
“Oi, TOM! You’re the little brother, yeah!?”
“TOM! You’re gonna take us as your subordinates, right!?”
“TOM! You’re gonna help us, right!?”
“TOM—! …Wait, what am I supposed to say now!?”
Ulti’s fists clenched, her face twisting red with rage. Having all her lines stolen left her fuming.
With a furious snarl, she leapt into her hybrid form and slammed her forehead down like a meteor—straight into Orochi’s crotch.
“It’s all your fault I don’t have anything cool to say! Ulti Headbutt!!!”
And then—
To everyone’s shock—
Orochi moved.
Battered, bruised, and dressed in tatters, he trembled like a man who had just stared into hell itself. His face was pale, his body shaking in terror.
His gaze dropped to the forehead hovering mere centimeters from his most vulnerable spot—and he exhaled a ragged sigh of relief.
Everything else—broken limbs, shattered bones, mangled organs—he could bear.
But that… no man could endure.
Shakily lifting his head, he looked at the Tobiroppo surrounding him. His wounds began to knit together, his voice trembling but clear:
“Gulp… C-can we… talk this out?”
