He walked over and approached the man in the middle—stocky build, gold tooth, and a cigar wedged between his teeth. The man was currently counting a thick wad of belly notes with a greedy smirk plastered across his face.
'I'm making a fortune. Not to mention the money from betting. I get a percentage from that as well. Who else wants to fight?' he thought, glancing around the square.
Luffy tapped him on the shoulder from behind.
The man flinched and turned abruptly.
"Huh? What do you want, kid?" he asked, clearly annoyed and not in the mood to entertain anyone under twenty.
"I want to join. Here's 300 bellies," Luffy said, holding out a small crumpled stack of notes.
Will's expression shifted instantly—like a dog spotting a bone. The smirk returned, wider now.
'What an easy score,' he thought as he snatched the money without hesitation.
"Name's Will. Thank you for participating. What's your name, kid?" he asked, tucking the money into his coat pocket.
"Luffy," he replied with a smirk of his own.
Will turned to the crowd, already raising his voice.
"Alright folks, we've got ourselves a new challenger! This is the last fight of the day, and to make it special—if he wins, he gets the bonus reward of 8000 bellies! Place your bets now!" he shouted.
The crowd stirred immediately. People leaned into one another, laughing, whispering, some pulling out coins, others waving their hands toward Will's assistants. Olaf cracked his knuckles in the ring with a smug look on his face.
"Can I also bet?" Luffy asked casually.
Will blinked. "Oh? You planning on losing and cashing in from the betting side?" he asked with a snort, prompting a round of laughter from the crowd.
Luffy shrugged. "No. I wanna bet on myself."
More laughter, even louder this time. Olaf raised an eyebrow and chuckled, clearly amused.
"I like this kid. Let me bet, Will," Olaf said, nodding to someone in the crowd.
"Well, okay then. Yeah kid, knock yourself out. Well—don't literally knock yourself out," Will joked, chuckling as he patted Luffy's shoulder and walked away.
Luffy smiled and took out the rest of his money, placing every last belly on himself.
Then he calmly took off his shirt.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Though Luffy's build wasn't bulky, his physique was chiseled, lean and tightly wound with coiled strength. Broad shoulders, ripped core, and arms that hinted at explosiveness. He didn't look like a kid anymore—he looked like someone dangerous.
Olaf's grin flickered.
Will cleared his throat and stepped back.
"Alright, I want a clean fight—nah, I'm joking. Who cares? Do whatever you want, except murder. We still need the loser to walk home," he said, backing off toward the edge.
"Fight!"
The air popped with energy.
Luffy immediately slipped into a loose boxing stance, fists raised just beneath his chin, feet light and balanced. His expression remained calm, eyes scanning Olaf's form.
Across from him, Olaf grinned ear to ear, relaxed, bouncing on his toes like this was a formality.
"Watch me finish this in ten seconds," he said, cracking his neck as he lifted his arms into his preferred fighting style—hands low, shoulder forward, a southpaw stance.
Luffy's eyes narrowed. His brain immediately broke it down—low guard, heavy left step, open midline. A classic local brawler stance. Fast... but careless.
'I'm not gonna end this quickly though. Where's the fun in that,' he thought.
His fingers twitched.
Olaf burst forward, cocky and fast, swinging a straight punch aimed directly at Luffy's face. His form was clean—fast enough to impress a bystander—but to Luffy, it was as slow and predictable as a training dummy's strike.
He shifted his head just slightly to the right, the fist grazing past his ear with a sharp whff of wind. Before Olaf could reset, Luffy took a half-step forward and drove a tight, compact jab into his ribs. The impact was firm and deliberate, producing a deep thump that echoed through the ring.
Thump!
"Oooh!" someone in the crowd winced.
"Did you see that?" another muttered.
"A lucky shot," a third scoffed.
Olaf grunted and staggered two steps back as the breath was forced from his lungs. The crowd buzzed immediately, the noise rising with disbelief.
Olaf scowled, rolling his shoulders, and came back in hard. He fired off a flurry—right hook, low kick, then a left elbow—all in quick succession.
But Luffy was already moving.
Whff! Clack! Whoosh!
He pivoted smoothly on the ball of his foot, letting the hook pass harmlessly, lifted his leg to check the kick with a clack of shin-on-shin, then dropped low beneath the elbow. In the same motion, he uncoiled upward, driving a sharp uppercut into Olaf's midsection.
BOMPH!
"That hurt just watching it…" a man whispered, gripping his own stomach.
"No way this kid's normal," someone else said, eyes wide.
Olaf's breath caught as he folded, stumbling backward again—this time slower, almost unsteady. But Luffy didn't press. He stayed where he was, light on his feet, breathing like he was taking a walk in the woods. There was no taunt in his eyes—just cold focus.
"Who the hell is this guy?" someone muttered in awe.
"He's not even sweating."
Trying to mask the pressure, Olaf barked and lunged again, putting everything into a heavy left hook. It came from behind the hip—meant to knock teeth out—but Luffy wasn't there. He slipped in under the strike with ease, twisted his torso, and drove his elbow into Olaf's sternum.
Crack!
"Shit!"
"I think that one cracked a rib!"
Olaf stumbled, coughing, and Luffy moved behind him like water—smooth and sudden. He hooked his foot forward and swept Olaf's legs clean from under him. Olaf dropped like a sack of potatoes, slamming into the dirt with a rough thud.
"Aghhh—damn!"
He tried to rise fast, but Luffy was already crouching beside him. A palm strike to the chest pinned him back down, followed by a precise knuckle jab to the side of his neck. Olaf tensed with a sharp gasp, limbs jerking briefly before going still.
Luffy stood and gave him space.
The crowd was holding its breath now. Even Will had stopped chewing his cigar.
Olaf pushed himself back up slowly, legs shaky, face red with exertion and pain. He lifted his fists again, but his stance was broken. He charged one last time—desperation in his eyes—throwing a wild, off-balance haymaker.
Luffy ducked, twisted cleanly, and spun his full body into a backfist that slammed into Olaf's jaw with a clear crack.
CRACK!
Olaf dropped flat, legs twitching once before going still.
The crowd erupted in shouts and disbelief.
"Yo what the hell just happened!"
"That kid just pummeled Olaf!"
Will's jaw hung open as he looked from the unconscious Olaf to the quiet teen standing calmly over him. The square had gone from rowdy to stunned silence, and then back to chaos as coins dropped, arguments broke out, and people rushed toward the betting stand.
Luffy rolled his shoulders and picked up his shirt, tossing it over his shoulder. His chest rose and fell—not from exhaustion, but from controlled rhythm. He didn't gloat, didn't raise a fist, didn't say a word.
'That went better than expected,' he thought, turning his back on the mess behind him.
TO BE CONTINUED
[A/N: Opened a Patreon. Get up to 24 extra chaps now. Trust me it only gets better]