Monica's gaze shifted from her father to Teach, her brows furrowed with worry.
Teach had just picked himself up from the ground, still slightly unsteady on his feet. His right hand gripped a nearby metal brace for support, his body leaning into it as though it were the only thing keeping him upright.
"Are you okay?" Monica rushed to his side, her arms instinctively wrapping around his.
"Zehaha!" Teach laughed, though his breath was uneven. "What could possibly happen to me?"
He wiped the blood at the corner of his mouth with a casual sweep of his sleeve, his grin wide, even in the face of pain.
"That punch was something else."
He raised his head slightly, squinting at Modi's looming figure ahead. Flashes of the recent clash lit up in his mind — impossible strength, blinding speed, and the weight of a man who could command an ocean. No wonder Modi had once ruled the sea. The sheer force behind that one punch told stories.
"Uncle Modi," Teach said, laughing even as he winced from the pain. "That's one hell of a way to say hello. Thanks for not killing me."
"You damn brat," Modi grunted, flexing his thick fists. "Get lost already. Don't hang around my Monica."
Teach, unfazed, simply chuckled. "You say that, but I brought a gift this time."
With his usual cheek, he disappeared outside and returned hauling in two large sacks. The sharp scent of herbs hit the air the moment he stepped through the doorway.
"I gathered these up in the mountains. Thought I'd leave them with you to process. They might be of some use."
Monica stepped forward and peered into the bags, recognition flashing in her eyes. These weren't just any herbs. They were rare — valuable even in the black markets — and judging by their earthy scent, freshly picked. Most of them only grew in the wildest parts of the mountains, deep where poisonous insects and dangerous beasts made every step a risk.
She blinked. How had Teach managed to gather so many?
"Only you can make these useful, Uncle Modi," Teach said. "I can't stick around too long. I'm heading to sea soon. Thanks for everything over the years."
And with that, he turned away, his footsteps echoing faintly as he walked out.
The rumor was true. The Whitebeard Pirates had entered the sea near Asuka Island. They'd soon be docking for supplies — and that was Teach's cue.
He wasn't the sort to disappear without a word. Those who mattered deserved a proper goodbye.
Modi stood in silence, his weathered face unreadable. But as he watched Teach's retreating back, something softened in his eyes.
----
Blazing Dojo — Quiet Room
Two men sat across from each other, the square table between them silent as stone. The master of the dojo, Haier, raised a porcelain teacup and took a slow sip, eyes closed in quiet contemplation.
Outside, a breeze stirred the trees. Haier's eyes opened.
"You've made your decision, then?" he asked, voice low but firm.
Teach nodded without hesitation. "Yes. I'll be boarding the Moby Dick with the Whitebeard Pirates."
Haier let out a long sigh — not of regret, but of pride. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Good," he said. "A real man belongs out in the world. You were never meant to be tied down to a place like Asuka. Your talent in swordsmanship — it's extraordinary. I've taught you everything I could. What comes next… you'll have to find on your own."
Rising from his seat, Haier turned to the back wall. From the display of weapons, he took down a long blade.
The sword was sheathed, but even through the scabbard, heat radiated like coals in a forge. The crimson pattern along its length shimmered like dancing flames.
Teach's eyes widened as Haier placed the weapon before him.
"This…?"
He had seen the blade countless times, always from a respectful distance. It was one of Haier's most prized possessions — and clearly, no ordinary weapon.
"This sword," Haier said with quiet reverence, "was forged for my grandfather, a great swordsman who wielded both fire and steel. He sought a blade worthy of his flames. After much hardship, he brought rare ore to Wano and had it forged by the finest craftsmen. Its name… is Purgatory."
There was a deep, almost sacred pause. Then:
"But—" Teach began.
"I know what you're going to say," Haier cut him off. "You're not a pure swordsman. That doesn't matter. This sword has been gathering dust with me. You'll either carry its legacy… or find someone who can."
Haier's gaze pierced into Teach. There was no room for refusal.
Teach dropped to one knee, bowing deeply.
"I swear — I'll make Purgatory a name feared and honored across the seas."
Haier chuckled, the warmth of a teacher proud of his student.
"Then take it. And don't come back unless you've done something worth talking about."
"Yes, sir."
As Teach walked the familiar streets of Asuka, every corner called to him.
"Oh hey, it's Teach again — he looks even stronger now!"
"Uncle Tom! Aunt Mary! You both look great!" Teach waved, then added with a grin, "Want another tiger whip? Soak it in wine this time, it'll warm you right up."
"Handsome as ever!" Aunt Carli bellowed from a stall. "Still single, Teach? Want to meet my daughter?"
Teach laughed, waving her off. "Still too young for that, Aunt Carli!"
But as he jogged off, her daughter's face popped into his mind. Beautiful girl… Not bad at all.
In Asuka, Teach was a local legend. Despite his youth, he had hunted wild beasts in the mountains, cleaned out local thugs, and was the personal disciple of the Blazing Dojo's master.
His home stood on a quiet hilltop — a modest but well-kept cottage. Inside, everything was neatly arranged. Teach pulled aside a plank in the floor, revealing a hidden cellar. Inside was a wooden chest.
He opened it.
Within lay his most prized items: a sheathed sword and a jagged blade, a black Devil Fruit with swirling patterns, and a tattered manual labeled Thunder & Lightning Sword Style.
He also kept a Devil Fruit illustrated book — incomplete, but containing dozens of known fruits. One of them matched the one in his chest — the Dark-Dark Fruit. He hadn't eaten it yet. He would wait… for the right moment.
The sword Thundertooth he had stolen alongside the sword manual, a powerful blade humming with static. The other — taller than himself, forged of dark blue ore with a purple hilt and gemstone pommel — he had found while exploring ancient ruins. He named it Longyuan.
The Asuka Kingdom had ruled this island long ago. Now its ruins lay buried in jungle and shadow, crawling with poisonous mists, beasts, and secrets.
Teach had stored many treasures there, too dangerous to carry — tempting bait for pirates, and worse.
Asuka Island — quiet, remote, with 100,000 residents and only one port. A forgotten piece of the New World.
But not for long.
"It's finally here."
Teach stood on the cliffs overlooking the sea. His telescope showed it clearly: a massive pirate ship shaped like a white whale. The Moby Dick.
It was here.
He had packed everything — Purgatory and Thundertooth hung at his waist, Longyuan strapped across his back. His bundle of clothes and supplies was secured tight, his hidden treasures locked away.
He approached the port, and there she was — Monica, sitting quietly outside her home. Her gaze lifted as he came near.
"Teach… you're leaving."
There was no question in her voice. She had known the moment she saw the bag on his back.
Teach smiled. "My chance has come. I will have to go."
There was a pause — then Monica smiled softly, stepping forward. "I'll wait for you."
Then, suddenly, she hugged him — arms tight around his frame.
She didn't say she loved him. She didn't need to.
Teach pulled away gently, turned, and ran toward the port.
"Not going to watch him board?" a voice asked beside her.
Monica blinked and turned. "Dad…"
Modi stood beside her.
"I approve of that kid," he said quietly. "Go on. Look one last time. Who knows when he'll come back?"
Teach sprinted toward the port, wind in his ears, breath ragged. The Moby Dick loomed like a floating fortress, its deck bustling with crew.
He saw them — Marco, Kozuki Oden, and others.
And there, towering above them all, was Whitebeard himself.
A living legend.
Teach's heart pounded as he picked up speed.
The sea was calling.
And he was ready.