The next day.
Baratie, the floating restaurant on the sea.
The dueling platform had already been set up. Hawkeye Mihawk sat quietly at a dining table, calm and composed, waiting for his opponent to appear.
Zeff pulled out a bench and sat nearby, casting a sidelong glance at the world-renowned swordsman.
"A big shot like you is really willing to wait this long… for a man you've never met?"
Hawkeye responded in his usual cool, detached tone:
"I saw a swordsman with sharp eyes on a bounty poster. I was intrigued, so I came to take a look."
His words were light, almost casual—but no one present believed them at face value. To be noticed by Hawkeye Mihawk was both a curse and a strange kind of honor.
Zeff raised a brow, his voice tinged with curiosity.
"You're not worried he might not show?"
"No."
Hawkeye shook his head.
"He'll come. No doubt about it."
Sanji, standing off to the side, frowned and spoke up, unable to hide his contempt.
"He's not someone you can rely on. That guy abandoned the person who trusted him most when it mattered most."
"How can you trust someone like that?"
Hawkeye turned his eyes toward Sanji, then calmly reached up and touched the cross pendant on his chest.
"If he truly feared death and broke his word so easily," he said, "he wouldn't have that look in his eyes."
"He may not be a pure swordsman, but he's certainly a worthy fighter."
"And those subordinates who would rather die than surrender—isn't that proof enough of the man he is?"
Sanji fell silent. The more he heard, the more confused he became.
If Gawain was such a person... then why had he abandoned the princess—the one who believed in him the most?
Zeff glanced at Sanji. His gaze darkened slightly, while the other chefs around them stood in wordless contemplation.
Time passed.
The sun, once high in the sky, now hovered near the horizon. Its crimson rays cast a warm glow across the Baratie's deck, bathing the restaurant in hues of deep red.
Far out on the sea, the water remained calm. No sea beasts stirred. No sails broke the surface.
"…Just as I thought."
Sanji murmured under his breath.
Whatever hope the cat brothers or even Hawkeye's words had stirred in him—it now drained away like water through a sieve.
Knight Gawain?
No. Just trash.
"As if someone like him would really risk his life—!"
"No."
Hawkeye suddenly sat upright, his eyes narrowing as he looked toward the sea.
Then, a rare smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
"They're here."
No sooner had he spoken, a sail rose in the distance.
Two figures appeared on the horizon, silhouettes against the fading sun, swords strapped at their sides.
One was a rebellious-looking teenager with three swords hanging oddly at his waist.
The other was tall, with sharp, handsome features—and eyes that burned with intensity.
Zoro and Gawain had arrived.
Zeff watched the pair silently, then allowed a faint smile to cross his weathered face.
"Even knowing the opponent is the world's strongest swordsman… knowing it's a fight you can't win... you're still willing to gamble your life for your comrades?"
"That kind of courage… not bad at all."
Sanji stared at the familiar figure on the boat.
He didn't know what to say.
You're willing to risk your life for your crew… then why did you abandon the princess who trusted you the most?!
Soon, the small boat reached Baratie's deck. Gawain and Zoro leapt up, landing steadily in front of the crowd.
Before Gawain could react, Zoro had already drawn his three swords and was striding straight toward Hawkeye.
"Captain," Zoro said without looking back.
"I'm going to see what the world's strongest looks like first for you."
Gawain gave a helpless shake of his head.
"Impatient bastard."
But he didn't stop him.
He knew—nothing could stop Zoro now. That fire in his eyes wouldn't die until it faced the peak.
Zoro had waited too long for this.
Ever since Kuina's death, he had lived for this moment.
To defeat the man in front of him.
"If you were truly a swordsman," Hawkeye said flatly, "you would know the gap between us the moment you laid eyes on me."
"Even so... you still intend to draw your sword?"
Hawkeye scrutinized the boy's face, searching for fear—any flicker of doubt—but there was nothing.
Only an unwavering will.
"The summit is right there," Zoro said. "How could I not climb?"
With that, he bit down on one sword, gripping the other two tightly in sweat-slicked palms.
Only now, standing face-to-face with the strongest, did he begin to understand why even Gawain had spoken with such gravity.
Just standing in front of Mihawk's eyes made his heart race uncontrollably.
Behind Hawkeye, the black blade—Yoru—emitted an oppressive aura that shook the air itself.
"Interesting."
Hawkeye's eyes lit up faintly.
He had come for Gawain, but now found another unpolished gem.
To dare stand before him knowing he was no match—that alone was worth admiring.
He reached for the cross pendant at his chest, pulled it open, and drew out a ridiculously small blade—barely ten centimeters long.
With a smirk, he said:
"Apologies. I don't have anything smaller than this."
Zoro twitched.
He turned his head slightly to Gawain, voice dry:
"Tell me… is this a swordsman thing?"
Gawain looked a little embarrassed.
Zoro rolled his eyes toward Mihawk.
"So I have to make you use your real sword, huh?"
Hawkeye blinked.
...Huh?
That wasn't the reaction he expected.
"You could say that," he replied.
"Tch. What a pain in the ass."
Zoro grumbled, but his stance shifted.
His aura sharpened like a drawn blade—leagues stronger than just a month ago.
His thin shirt fluttered without wind as his spirit condensed into something razor-sharp.
Everyone on the Baratie turned to watch.
Patty broke into a cold sweat.
"Hey, that kid doesn't look old, but his presence... it's scary. He's on par with Sanji!"
"Monsters... all these youngsters are monsters!"
"Tsk."
Sanji clicked his tongue, watching Zoro with barely concealed irritation.
"He somehow pisses me off."
Zeff glanced at him and chuckled.
"That kind of irritation... Maybe it's fate."
"Fate with him?! Hell na!"
Zeff smiled again.
"Then... do you still think Knight Gawain is the kind of man who'd abandon a princess in her time of need?"
Sanji fell silent.
In the distance, the battle had already begun.
Zoro burst forward, stepping heavily and crossing dozens of meters in seconds. His three blades came at Mihawk from different angles, closing off every path of escape.
But—
Clang!
The tiny dagger in Mihawk's hand pressed against the point where all three swords met.
Zoro gritted his teeth, pushing forward with everything he had—yet he couldn't move an inch further.
"In moments like this," Hawkeye murmured, "you start to wonder…"
"Should the world really be this far away?"