"Breeze Breath Bomb!"
"500-Kilogram Heavy Fist!"
Boom! Crack! A chaotic flurry ensued…
Though Mr. 5 and Miss. Valentine were no match for Luffy and the others, they were still senior agents of Baroque Works—and Devil Fruit users, no less. Dealing with these nameless pirate underlings was a breeze for them.
Miss. Valentine folded her parasol, glancing at her former partner with mild surprise before smiling. "You scared me there for a second. At first, I thought you'd come to hunt me down."
"How could I…" Mr. 5 holstered his revolver and turned seriously to the kilogram woman. "I may be an assassin, but killing a partner I've worked with for years? I just can't do it."
"Mr. 5…" Miss. Valentine covered her mouth, too moved to speak.
Even as a villain who'd committed countless atrocities, this booger-picking man still clung to his own moral code.
Mr. 5 glanced at the pirates sprawled unconscious on the ground, urgency creeping into his voice. "The Hungry Wolf Pirates should've already run into the Straw Hats by now. Mr. 3 is dealing with those two giants—this is our perfect chance to slip away…"
"Wait… what did you just say? What's this about the Hungry Wolf Pirates?" Hearing that her friends might be in danger, Nami forced down her fear and shouted the question.
Usopp nodded shakily. "Y-yeah! What are you planning to do to the giant masters?"
Mr. 5 shot them a glance, then wordlessly drew his revolver from his coat, startling Usopp and Nami into stumbling back.
"Hey, Mr. 5…" Miss. Valentine frowned at her partner's actions.
After spending these past days together, the assassin lady had grown fond of the navigator who shared her love for a certain fruit. Now, she couldn't bear to watch this.
But just as she opened her mouth to intervene, a razor-sharp gust sliced through the air. Crack! Mr. 5's six-shot revolver from the South Blue was cleaved cleanly in two, the cut smooth as glass.
Mr. 5 stared down in shock—then a gash erupted across his chest. Crimson blood sprayed outward. With a scream, the bomb man collapsed in a heap under the stunned gazes of the three onlookers.
It wasn't over. Another gust whipped toward the frozen Miss. Valentine. By the time she reacted, it was too late.
Spurt! Blood blossomed everywhere.
"W-what… just happened?" Nami stammered, staring at the two bodies in pools of blood.
Usopp's face was pure horror. "It's a person—a person moving insanely fast!" As an expert sniper, Usopp's dynamic vision far surpassed the average person's, yet even he'd only caught a vague blur.
"Oh? Impressive. You actually saw my movements!"
A man's voice rang out abruptly behind them. Usopp and Nami whipped around to find a stranger cradling a long sword. He looked utterly ordinary, but his emotionless eyes fixed on them like they were already corpses.
Yasuo spoke flatly to the long-nosed man. "Let's see you try again this time—"
Gale Step!
The moment the words left his mouth, Yasuo vanished. Unlike Sherlock's invisibility, this was pure speed—too fast for the eye to track.
The unknown was the most terrifying. Usopp and Nami swallowed hard, frantically scanning their surroundings.
Then another gust swept past. Nami's hair stood on end; tears welled in her eyes as she squeezed them shut, arms wrapped around her head. For the first time, the navigator felt Death's scythe brush so close.
A black shadow flashed. Three glints of cold steel clashed instantly before her.
Clang! The ring of blades was crisp and clear.
A familiar figure now stood between Nami and Yasuo.
"Hey, hey, hey! What do you think you're doing to our ship's navigator?" The green-haired swordsman blocked Yasuo's long blade with his dual swords, face dead serious.
"Zoro!" Usopp whooped in excitement.
"Phew, we're saved…" Nami wiped the sweat from her brow in relief.
Zoro shoved hard with his twin blades. Yasuo flew backward like a cloud caught in a storm, twisting midair to land steadily. He stared at the green-haired swordsman, eyes gleaming with interest.
"Not bad strength…" Yasuo sheathed his long sword, arms folded calmly. "But it's useless against absolute speed!"
"I am the Gale Swordsman—Yasuo. Tell me your name, mighty swordsman."
"Gale Swordsman?" Zoro untied the deep green bandana from his arm and tied it around his head.
"I'm Roronoa Zoro, a total 'rookie' who just entered the Grand Line…" He bit down on Wado Ichimonji, flashing his signature feral grin, eyes blazing with fighting spirit. "Let me see what a Grand Line swordsman can really do!"
"As you wish!" Yasuo vanished once more.
Gale Step!
Zoro's eyes narrowed to slits. He stood motionless like a monk in meditation, every sense honed to a razor's edge. The air grew oppressively heavy.
Time dragged on. Yasuo didn't strike. Nami and Usopp, watching from the sidelines, began to wonder if the man had simply left.
Then—a gust. Zoro moved. His body tilted right; all three swords slashed left into empty air, barely parrying Yasuo's strike. Clang-clang-clang! The relentless clash of steel rang out like popping beans.
Blades flashed like lightning. In mere breaths, they exchanged over a hundred blows. The wind pressure from their storm of strikes carved a layer off the ground beneath them; dust barely rose before it was blasted away.
Clang! A heavy impact forced them apart. Nami and Usopp peered closer—and both broke into cold sweats for their swordsman.
Yasuo was unscathed, breathing only slightly harder. Zoro, meanwhile, bore several clear gashes.
In their first clash, Zoro was at a disadvantage!
"I told you—strength can't beat speed…" Yasuo raised his long sword a fraction, gazing calmly at the green-haired swordsman.
"Tch… shut up already!" Zoro gripped his hilts tighter, then charged like an arrow loosed from a bow.
Three Sword Style: Oni Giri!
Deep in the primeval jungle, the clang-clang-clang of metal on metal rang out once more…
"Finally found you! Sorcerer—Sherlock!"
A hulking brute with a red coxcomb haircut stormed in, muscles rippling, a snarling blood-red wolf head tattooed on his chest. A crimson spear was slung across his back, radiating murderous intent.
Even stranger—he'd arrived on a bicycle. Riding a bike through a primeval jungle was certainly… unconventional.
Vivi shrank back against Sherlock, fear plain on her face.
"Carue, take your master and go…" Sherlock patted Vivi's back, voice grave as he addressed the large duck hiding nearby. "Find Luffy and the others. And whatever you do, don't take the same path back."
"Mr. Glasses…" Vivi started, but Sherlock silenced her with a look. She glanced back at him once, then mounted the running duck and sped away from the battlefield about to erupt.
Haska didn't spare the departing princess a glance. His twisted grin was locked on the sorcerer before him.
"Who'd have thought the rumors were true? Duncan really does have an older brother who watched the Pirate King's execution and then ran off to become a pirate." Sherlock pushed up his glasses, expression unruffled. "I'm guessing you're the one who got him that Devil Fruit, too. What a doting big brother…"
A flicker of confusion crossed Haska's savage face. "How do you know who I am?"
"Simple." Sherlock glanced at him. "Aside from the size difference, you and your little brother look alike. Equally ugly."
"You sharp-tongued bastard!"
Haska roared in fury. Gripping his spear, he swung with all his might. A solid crescent of blood-red energy hurtled toward Sherlock with a howling gust.
Elusive Phantom
As expected of a pirate with a 70 million berry bounty—this blood slash tore through Sherlock's illusion and plowed into the jungle. Towering trees, thick as several men embraced, toppled like wheat before a scythe.
Haska's enraged strike was terrifying! (Why does that phrasing feel so familiar? (⊙_⊙)b)
Hidden, Sherlock's eyes narrowed. This coxcomb's attacks were absurd.
But then something even more absurd happened. Seeing Sherlock vanish, Haska flipped his spear and dragged the sharp tip across his own body. Blood sprayed. Staring at the crimson flow, his massive frame began to tremble.
A bad feeling stirred in Sherlock's gut. Just as he prepared his next move, Haska's head snapped up. Blood-red eyes locked straight onto the invisible sorcerer!
"Found you!" Haska cackled, then leapt high, spear raised, pouncing like a starving wolf spotting prey.
(No way!) With his invisibility broken and nowhere to dodge, Sherlock activated Mirror Counter to brace for impact.
Haska slammed into the rippling void. Like a cannonball, he ricocheted back, crashing through several trees and carving a long furrow in the earth.
Crack. A faint shattering sound whispered through the air.
Sherlock felt blood rush to his head, a stifling pressure in his chest. He stared at Haska, who rose as if nothing had happened, expression darkening.
"…What, you really thought you won fair and square? Getting all teary-eyed over it—you're such a simple idiot!" Mr. 3 sneered at Brogy, immobilized in wax and unable to move.
Hearing the full story, Brogy nearly exploded with rage. This despicable coward had ruined a sacred duel, insulted the highest honor of a warrior, and now denied him even an honorable death—leaving him to watch himself turned into a wax statue.
Brogy's massive nostrils flared; bloodshot eyes bored into Mr. 3. Even as a ghost, he'd never let this vile worm go!
"Yes, yes, that's the expression." Mr. 3's grin was utterly smug, the picture of a petty victor. "You'll be my proudest collectible!"
"Gum Gum…" A roar echoed from the distant jungle.
Mr. 3's face twisted. With a thought, the "3" candle atop his head ignited.
"Candle Engraving—Candle Wall!"
"Pistol!"
Boom! A tremendous crash. The white candle wall barely blocked Luffy's furious punch. Even steel-hard wax cracked under the blow, leaving Mr. 3 speechless.
Luffy burst from the bushes, glanced at the immobilized Brogy, then slammed his straw hat down and roared at Mr. 3. "This is all your doing, you weird-haired bastard!"
Luffy might act like a total airhead most of the time—Sherlock could take off his glasses and Luffy wouldn't recognize him—but in critical moments, this idiot captain's instincts were razor-sharp.
"I'm gonna send you flying!" Luffy cracked his knuckles, teeth gritted.
"Send me flying? Heh…" Mr. 3 pushed up his glasses, a sinister smile spreading. "I'm not your opponent~"
As the words left his mouth, a familiar black shadow appeared above Luffy. It spun like a tornado, one leg shooting up then crashing down like a meteor onto Luffy's head.
Collier Shoot!
Boom! A muffled explosion. Caught off guard, Luffy's head was driven into the dirt by the colossal force. Good thing he was rubber—anyone else's neck would've snapped.
"That bastard sneak-attacked me again!" Luffy wrenched his head free, whirling around in fury—then froze.
The attacker was none other than their ship's cook—Sanji.
The usually impeccable chef glared at his own captain with pure hatred, as if they shared some blood feud.
But something was different: painted on Sanji's pristine black suit was a strange red-and-black pattern.
—Tuning Colors: Black of Betrayal.
—Tuning Colors: Red of the Bullfight.
—Tuning Colors: Red-Black of Enmity!
"Sanji? Why—" Luffy stared in confusion, but the answer was a razor-sharp kick and a wall of solid wind pressure.
Left with no choice, Luffy fought back.
Watching the two tear into each other, Mr. 3 smirked triumphantly and nodded to the painter girl who'd returned unnoticed. "Well done, Miss Goldenweek."
Miss Goldenweek said nothing. The little girl with sheep-tail braids simply sat, munching rice crackers and sipping tea, utterly at ease.
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