The battlefield on the slope was a study in contrasts. At the bottom, a sea of unconscious pirates lay strewn amongst the caltrops and debris. At the top stood the defenders: a wounded but defiant liar, a greedy but capable thief, and a one-eyed swordsman radiating quiet menace. And in the space between them, the two captains faced each other.
The final battle had begun.
Luffy shot forward, his fist a rubbery cannonball aimed straight for the man who had betrayed Kaya's heart. "Gomu Gomu no Pistol!"
But there was nothing there to hit.
In the space between one heartbeat and the next, Kuro vanished. It wasn't a dodge; it was an erasure. Luffy's punch slammed into the empty space where the butler had been, the force of it cracking the very ground.
Luffy stood, his arm still extended, his senses screaming. He couldn't see him. He couldn't hear him. The air was still, silent except for the wind whistling down the slope. It was like fighting a ghost.
A faint whisper of movement to his left. Luffy spun, throwing a wild punch, but hit nothing.
A flicker of motion to his right. He kicked, but his foot swept through empty air.
"Hahaha…" A low, condescending chuckle seemed to come from everywhere at once. "You are a creature of brute force. You might as well be trying to punch the wind."
Kuro appeared for a split second behind Luffy, his glasses glinting. Before Luffy could even turn, he was gone again, leaving behind only the chilling sensation of his presence. This was his game, a predator toying with its prey. He was demonstrating the absolute, despair-inducing gap in their speed.
He reappeared again, this time directly in front of Luffy, and lashed out with his Cat Claws. The ten blades sliced through the air, but Luffy, reacting on pure instinct, managed to lean back, the sharp points grazing his chest. The attack was just a feint.
While Luffy was off balance, Kuro used his momentum to pivot, delivering a powerful, precise kick to the side of Luffy's head.
BAM!
The impact sent Luffy flying, crashing hard into the rocky cliff face and sliding to the ground in a daze.
The Black Cat Pirates, who had been watching in terrified silence, saw their captain's overwhelming superiority and a flicker of hope returned. They erupted in cheers. "GO, CAPTAIN KURO! TEAR HIM APART!"
The cheer was a mistake.
Kuro landed gracefully, but his body was rigid with a sudden, cold fury. He turned his head slowly, his eyes, burning with rage behind his spectacles, locking onto his own crew.
"What," he hissed, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper, "did you just call me?"
The pirates froze, their cheers dying in their throats. They had forgotten.
"DO NOT… use that name," Kuro commanded. "Captain Kuro died three years ago. A pathetic, weak pirate captured and executed by the Marines. I have shed that filthy skin. I am Klahadore now."
His voice was filled with such conviction, such deep-seated hatred for his own past, that the air itself seemed to grow heavy. The story of how he had shed that skin, a story of meticulous planning and absolute cruelty, began to unfold in his mind.
Three years ago. On the deck of the Bezan Black, a ship feared across the East Blue.
Kuro had summoned his first mate, Jango, to his private cabin. The room was immaculate, a testament to a strategic, orderly mind.
"I am retiring," Kuro announced without preamble.
Jango was stunned. "Retiring?! Captain, what are you talking about? We're at the peak of our power!"
"And that is precisely the problem," Kuro said, turning from a porthole. "The more infamous we become, the more the dogs of the Marines hunt us. A Marine ship was spotted on the horizon. The third one this week. I am tired of it, Jango. I desire… peace."
He looked at Jango. "The plan is in motion. From this day forward, you are the captain."
The news of a Marine galleon sent a buzz through the crew. Jango's pirate instincts took over. "Another easy score! Once we sink them, your name will be even more feared, Captain!"
"Exactly," Kuro said with disdain. "And that is why the name 'Captain Kuro' must die today. Publicly."
His plan was audacious: he would fake his own death.
He rowed to the Marine galleon alone. His crew watched from a distance. They heard screams, then a chilling silence. When they boarded the vessel, they found a scene of absolute carnage. The entire Marine crew had been slaughtered. And standing amidst the bodies, without a single speck of blood on his pristine suit, was Captain Kuro.
He found one survivor. With a sickening crunch, Kuro broke the man's jaw, yet the Marine still glared back with defiant eyes. He had found the perfect pawn for his play.
The final act was a grim piece of theatre. A crew member with a similar build was dressed in Kuro's coat. Jango, using his hypnotic powers, performed a double-spell: one to make the crewman believe he was Kuro, and another to make the broken-jawed Marine believe he had captured Kuro.
From the shore of a deserted island, the real Kuro, now 'Klahadore,' watched as his past self was sailed away to be "executed." A small, triumphant smile touched his lips. The perfect crime. He was free.
The memory faded, and Kuro was back in the present, his eyes fixed on Luffy.
"Now do you understand, Straw Hat?" he asked, his voice filled with the arrogance of a man who believed his intellect was an unstoppable force. "What I desire is not the chaotic fame of a pirate. It is a quiet, orderly, and perfectly planned peace."
He prepared to launch his finishing blow, his signature technique, the Shakushi. He crouched low, his body a blur of vibrating energy, ready to launch himself forward in an indiscriminate, high-speed massacre.
But this time, Luffy was ready. He knew he couldn't match his speed. He couldn't track his movements. So he would have to change the rules of the fight.
He didn't try to get into a stance. Instead, he grabbed the largest, most solid piece of rubble he could find—a jagged slab of rock from the shattered cliff face.
As Kuro shot forward, a silent, invisible dealer of death, Luffy held the massive rock up like a shield.
Kuro, in his arrogance, didn't even try to go around it. He aimed to shred right through it, and the rubber man behind it.
SCREEEEECH!
The sound of steel grinding against stone was deafening. Kuro's five razor-sharp blades sank deep into the rock, but the slab was thicker and denser than he had anticipated. His claws were stuck.
For the first time in the fight, the phantom was anchored.
"Gotcha," Luffy grunted.
Before Kuro could retract his hands, Luffy used his brute, rubbery strength. He twisted the entire boulder with a furious roar. The leverage was immense.
CRACK! SNAP!
With a series of sickening sounds, the five blades embedded in the rock were bent, twisted, and snapped clean off, leaving Kuro's right glove a mangled wreck.
Kuro leaped back, staring in disbelief at his damaged weapon.
"You talk too much," Luffy said, panting. He looked at Kuro with a simple, profound lack of understanding.
"If you didn't want the fame, if you hated being chased so much, then you shouldn't have become a pirate in the first place. That's the deal."
He clenched his fists, his eyes burning with his own, entirely different kind of ambition.
"When you go out to sea, you put your life on the line! You make a name for yourself, and you never, ever run away from it!"
He pointed a finger at the master planner. "You just want to run away from your own legacy. But me?"
A wide, confident grin spread across his face.
"I'm not running. I'm going to create a legacy so great, the whole world will know my name. I'm going to find the One Piece…"
"And I'm going to become the King of the Pirates!"