Just then, a series of "whoosh, whoosh, whoosh" sounds cutting through the air could be heard continuously.
Those who recognized Lancelot's identity and possessed quick wits didn't hesitate—they leaped through the nearest windows and swiftly fled the scene, their speed astonishing those who remained.
Those still left behind, witnessing this, were first stunned, then one by one showed looks of bewilderment.
Soon after, as if suddenly realizing the gravity of the situation, their expressions instantly turned solemn.
After all, most people who mingled in a place like this had at least some brains.
This bizarre situation immediately triggered a deep sense of alarm within them.
After giving Lancelot a profound glance, they quickly followed the example of the clever ones who had fled earlier, leaping out through the windows and vanishing without a trace in the blink of an eye.
In the end, only a small handful of people remained in the tavern.
These individuals were either those who were overly confident in their own strength and abilities, or genuine fools who were completely oblivious to the impending danger.
At the same moment, the splattered mud droplets seemed to be drawn by some mysterious force, rapidly converging toward the center.
In an instant, they coalesced into a vague humanoid silhouette.
As time passed, this form gradually became clearer, and Caribou reappeared before everyone, restored to his original state.
However, Caribou's condition was far from ideal.
He clutched his abdomen with one hand, as if suffering from intense pain, while using the other to wipe away the traces of blood at the corner of his mouth.
It was clear he had sustained significant injuries.
When he lifted his head to look at Lancelot, his expression had undergone a dramatic transformation. Gone was any trace of his earlier disdain, replaced only by wariness.
"Idiot…"
Lancelot muttered under his breath.
In such a situation, the wisest course of action would undoubtedly be to retreat immediately to avoid further peril.
Yet this fool, even after reforming his body, still stood before him.
Did he harbor such a grossly mistaken belief in his own abilities?
The earlier kick hadn't killed him only because Lancelot had held back, fearing he might accidentally end his life.
But after that test, Lancelot now knew exactly the limits of this man's physical endurance.
In the blink of an eye, Lancelot's figure flickered, and he appeared beside Caribou like a phantom.
Without hesitation, he swung his right hand, transforming it into a sharp hand chop that struck Caribou with brutal force.
Just like the previous kick, this attack was also enveloped in powerful Armament Haki!
"Oh no…"
Caribou's face instantly turned pale, cold sweat beading on his forehead as shock surged through him like a tidal wave.
The speed of this Marine was simply astonishing—both his movement and the speed of his attack far exceeded Caribou's expectations.
At that moment, Caribou felt as though his entire body had been immobilized; only his eyes could barely track Lancelot's movements.
It was only then that he deeply realized the vast chasm between his own strength and that of this Marine—a difference as immense as heaven and earth, clouds and mud…
What was even more laughable was how he had earlier provoked this man without regard for his own life, even fantasizing about using the Marine's head to increase his own bounty.
Looking back now, it was nothing short of a death wish!
Just then, Caribou's brother, Coribou, finally snapped out of his stunned state.
Seeing his elder brother attacked finally stirred him to action.
He abruptly turned around, gripping a massive shovel tightly in his hands, and without hesitation swung it viciously toward Lancelot's head.
Faced with Coribou's sudden assault, Lancelot merely responded with a cold, derisive chuckle.
His own offensive momentum remained completely unaffected.
In the next instant, his hand blade struck Caribou's neck with unerring precision.
A surge of overwhelming force erupted instantaneously, sending Caribou flying backward like a kite with its string cut.
Simultaneously, the tremendous impact rendered him unconscious on the spot.
Yet Lancelot's strike did not end there. With a subtle flick of his wrist and a fluid pivot, his hand blade seamlessly altered its trajectory.
It carved a graceful arc through the air, meeting Coribou's swinging shovel with pinpoint accuracy.
Clang…
Coribou's shovel was cleanly severed.
Already dull-witted, Coribou stared in stunned disbelief—utterly unprepared for this turn of events.
Thump…
In the very next moment, Lancelot impassively extended his right index finger and, with lightning speed, drove it unerringly through Coribou's chest.
The strike was so swift and powerful that it pierced straight through Coribou's heart in an instant!
It must be understood that against foes like Coribou, Lancelot showed not an ounce of mercy. After all, Coribou was no Devil Fruit Ability User.
Like his brother, he was nothing but a vile scoundrel.
Killing such a man warranted zero hesitation.
Immediately after, Lancelot slowly turned his head, his icy gaze sweeping over the remaining onlookers like a sharpened blade.
His eyes held clear menace—anyone who made the slightest move would instantly face his ruthless retaliation.
Anyone who saw the look in Lancelot's eyes at that moment understood he had already resolved to kill.
"This is bad…"
Everyone's faces paled.
Even the slowest among them finally grasped the direness of the situation.
After all, everyone present had witnessed firsthand Lancelot's terrifyingly formidable strength.
If even a Logia could be so effortlessly brutalized, what chance did ordinary fighters like them stand?
Exchanging hurried glances, they reached a silent consensus—escape was imperative!
In a flash, they scrambled toward the nearest windows, swift as startled hares.
Each pushed their limits, fleeing desperately, terrified that lagging even a step behind would make them the next to fall to Lancelot's hand.
Even the tavern keeper, who had been standing behind the counter, wisely chose to withdraw from the horrifying conflict.
Carefully avoiding Lancelot's line of sight, he stumbled toward the back door and vanished beyond it in the blink of an eye.
Clearly, when forced to choose between wealth and survival, he had chosen the latter.