Having reached a resolution, Gojo steeled his determination to become a pirate, surging into the world to carve his name across the uncharted seas.
He understood piracy meant defiance—opposing the Marines and flouting the law, branding oneself an outlaw with a bounty that demanded capture, dead or alive.
Two full days had passed since his decision, yet the question lingered: Where did one even begin such a journey?
Foremost on his agenda was recruiting a skilled navigator, as his own knowledge of seamanship was nonexistent.
Yet before that, he needed a ship—the very foundation upon which every pirate's legend was built.
Slouched in a bustling restaurant, Gojo shoveled ramen and grilled chicken into his mouth, a half-empty glass of liquor resting at his elbow. Whispers of a notorious pirate hunter from nearby Shimotsuki Village drifted through the air, sharpening his curiosity.
"He must be formidable," Gojo mused, a lopsided grin twisting his lips. "Wonder if he'd sail with me." With that thought, he tipped the glass back, draining the last of the liquor in one gulp.
Hands buried in his pockets, he prowled the streets with unshakable confidence, hungry for a clash with this so-called hunter.
Soon, the outskirts of Shimotsuki Village came into view—a stone's throw from Foosha Village, its landscape a postcard of rustic serenity: emerald fields framed by mist-laden mountains.
"…Heh. So this is the den of the famous pirate hunter?" Gojo muttered, boots planted atop a windswept hill.
CRACK!
A searing bolt of lightning split the heavens, the sky darkening in an instant. Without warning, rain hammered down in sheets.
Infinity hummed to life around him, and Gojo strode forward, the storm's fury parting around him like an afterthought. The technique encased him in an imperceptible barrier, leaving his clothes bone-dry despite the deluge.
He ambled through Shimotsuki's muddy lanes with leisurely indifference, his blindfold masking those *otherworldly blue eyes* as they flicked side to side.
The rain only worsened—a relentless, pounding torrent. Gojo exhaled sharply, the artificial dryness grating on his nerves.
"Need to find cover," he declared, his voice cutting through the downpour as he pressed forward.
Ducking into a dimly lit shop, he snatched up a lollipop—a craving that had haunted him since leaving Foosha.
"Hey, old man," Gojo called, unwrapping the candy. "Where's this pirate hunter everyone's yapping about?"
The shopkeeper blinked twice. "Ah… you mean Ryuken?"
"Ryuken, huh."
"The village's shield. He's crushed every pirate stupid enough to land here."
"Sounds like fun."
"Fun?" The man chuckled dryly. "His One-Sword Style leaves no survivors."
"One-Sword Style?" Gojo's smirk turned wolfish. "Point me to him."
Adjusting his spectacles, the shopkeeper nodded toward a distant building. "See that Kenjutsu dojo? That's where he trains."
"Appreciate it." Gojo dipped his head in a mock bow and turned to leave.
"Hold on!" The man barked. "If you're a pirate… you'd best flee while you can."
Gojo didn't break stride. "Relax," he tossed over his shoulder. "I'm the strongest."
'The strongest…?' The shopkeeper's broom froze mid-sweep as he stared after the retreating figure. 'What kind of fool says that?'
The oppressive clouds surrendered to the sun's radiance as the rain ceased with dramatic finality. Gojo's smirk widened with each step toward the Kenjutsu School's entrance, anticipation crackling in the air.
"Ryuken, huh? I'll make sure you join my crew—no objections."
"What do you want?" A voice cut through the stillness. "Did you just say 'crew'?"
Behind Gojo stood a black-haired man clad in a traditional kimono, his elongated sheathed sword resting casually across his shoulders.
Gojo turned slowly, surprised—he hadn't heard the man's approach. 'One sword,' he noted silently. "You must be the infamous pirate hunter, Ryuken?"
"Yeah." Ryuken drew his blade with a metallic hiss. "Who the hell are you?"
Gojo crunched the last of his lollipop between his teeth. "Satoru Gojo. Future King of the Pirates."
"I see." Ryuken dropped into a battle stance, muscles coiled like springs. "A pirate wandering alone? Either you're bold or suicidal."
"Why—"
Before Gojo could finish, Ryuken lunged, his sword slicing horizontally through the space where Gojo stood—hands still tucked in his pockets.
"Huh?!" Ryuken's eyes flared with disbelief as he vaulted backward, putting distance between them. "I'll ask again—who the hell are you?"
Gojo's smirk deepened. "Told you. I'm Gojo. The next Pirate King."
Ryuken exhaled slowly, steadying his breath. "So, you ate a Devil Fruit. That explains your trick."
"Devil Fruit?" Gojo burst into laughter. 'So the rumors are true.' "Nah. I didn't eat any cursed fruit."
"Don't play dumb," Ryuken growled. "If it's not a Devil Fruit, what kind of power stops a blade mid-air?"
"Curious?" Gojo tilted his head. "I'll explain—if you answer one question."
"Hah? What question?"
"See, I'm not a pirate yet. I'm assembling a crew. Heard whispers about a legendary pirate hunter, so I came to recruit you. Together, we'll turn the world upside down—become the strongest crew in history."
"Eh?" Ryuken lowered his sword slightly. "And how exactly would we 'turn the world upside down'?"
"By crushing the World Government. Humiliating the Marines. Toppling the Four Emperors. Sparking a revolution that'll rewrite history."
A beat of silence. Then—
"Follow me." Ryuken sheathed his sword, balancing it on his shoulders. "We'll talk inside."
"Heh." Gojo's whisper dripped with triumph.
"Oi."
A new voice sliced through the moment. Both men turned to see a bloodied gang of armed men blocking their path.
"We'll gut you for killing our captain, you bastard pirate hunter!"
Ryuken sighed. "I spared your lives once. Now you're begging for death?"
Gojo cracked his knuckles. "Let's wreck these losers, Ryu."
"Ryu?" Ryuken's eyes twitched. "Who said you could call me that, you arrogant prick?"
Gojo and Ryuken erupted into simultaneous laughter as they launched themselves at the horde of pirates. Ryuken moved with lethal precision—his footwork flawless, his blade an extension of his will—carving through half the attackers before they could even register his movements. "Now let's see what he's capable of," he mused, flicking blood from his swordtip as his gaze shifted to Gojo.
The white-haired man stood motionless as pirates converged on him from all directions—until—
BOOM!
Their weapons froze mid-air, bullets suspended like insects in amber. The raiders gaped in terror as Gojo's face twisted into a predatory grin. With casual brutality, he seized the nearest pirate and delivered a crushing uppercut that sent the man arcing through the sky like a shooting star.
"Impressive," Ryuken murmured, watching Gojo dismantle the remaining foes with effortless grace.
"Fool! Never turn your back!" A surviving pirate leveled his flintlock at Ryuken's exposed spine. The swordsman didn't even glance backward—his blade became a silver blur, deflecting every bullet before severing the attacker's gun hand at the wrist.
From their sheltered doorways, villagers watched in stunned silence as their legendary protector and this mysterious blindfolded stranger made short work of the marauders.
"Just what the hell are you, Snow White?" Ryuken demanded, his lips quaking despite himself.
"Hehehe. Food first, explanations later."
Ryuken's mind raced. 'If it's not a Devil Fruit... What kind of power halts a bullets without touching them?'
The Kenjutsu School's wooden door groaned as Ryuken pushed it open. "This is Isshin Dojo—where I learned the way of the sword under Master Koushirou." He ran calloused fingers along the worn threshold. "My rival trained here too... before he left to hunt pirates."
"Your rival?" Gojo's interest sharpened.
"Roronoa Zoro. Three-sword style specialist." Ryuken's grip tightened on his scabbard. "He outpaced me for years... until I bled enough in these halls to catch up."
"Fate works in funny ways." Gojo leaned against a training dummy. "Sounds like we were meant to meet."
"Don't get ahead of yourself." Ryuken's scoff lacked conviction. "We made a vow—one of us would surpass Dracule Mihawk, one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea and claim the title of World's Strongest Swordsman."
"Perfect." Gojo's smile turned feral. "My right-hand man should be nothing less."
A beat of silence. Then—
"Fine." Ryuken sheathed his sword with finality. "I'll join your damned crew. But understand this—I'm claiming that title first."
Gojo's excitement crackled like a live wire. "Then let's turn this world upside down!"
"You're awfully confident for a captain with one crewmate," Ryuken deadpanned.
"Patience, Ryu." Gojo waved a dismissive hand. "I'll gather the strongest pirate crew."
" What have I signed up for?" Ryuken massaged his temples. "Now—about that ability of yours..."