After returning from his trip, Yorichi brought back two tiger legs. He didn't know the exact weight, but judging from their size, he wouldn't have to worry about food for quite a while — as long as the meat didn't spoil.
To avoid attracting other predators with the smell of blood, he didn't bring the meat directly to the cave entrance. Instead, he left it near the base of the mountain, keeping a fair distance from his shelter.
He then roasted a small piece to test it out. Although that giant bird from before implied the meat was edible, it was better to be safe than sorry.
Huh. Not bad — at least not poisonous. As for taste, it wasn't exactly good; honestly, it didn't taste anything like "delicious." The blood hadn't been washed off, the texture was dry, and the smell was strong.
Still, Yorichi felt satisfied. After all, it was meat — much better than that weird paste from the cave.
After confirming it was safe to eat, he spent over an hour roasting a few pounds of meat to fill his stomach. For some reason, even after eating several pounds, he only felt half full.
He resisted the urge to keep eating and instead built a simple smokehouse near the mountain base. He cut up dozens of pounds of meat and began curing it with smoke to preserve it longer.
After spending half a day handling the meat, Yorichi decided to pause and explore the surroundings more.
Food wasn't the biggest problem anymore — water was.
But that problem was solved soon after he went out again to scout the area.
After filling his stomach, he grabbed his sword and headed deeper into the forest. This time, instead of following the same forest path, he studied the terrain carefully and chose to go in the direction where the ground sloped downward — likely where water flowed.
"These trees are huge," he muttered.
"If I don't mark my way, I'll get lost fast."
The dense forest could easily disorient anyone. To prevent that, Yorichi walked lightly, swinging his sword as he went. Any plants or bushes in his way were sliced down.
Starting life over gave him a youthful energy he hadn't felt in ages.
---
After about forty minutes of walking downhill, he finally heard it — the sound of running water.
Deep within the island, a small stream appeared before him, winding like a silver serpent through the mountains.
Both sides of the stream were covered in lush green grass, and beyond it stretched a thick forest of towering trees he'd never seen before.
Yorichi stopped by the stream, glanced around, and then swung his sword to chop down a tree as thick as his arm span. He cut a section, hollowed out the inside, and made a crude container to scoop up some water.
"Huh?"
"Why is the water this color…?"
"And why does it smell… metallic?"
The water he scooped up looked faintly red against the wood. Startled, he turned toward the stream — and saw that the water itself was now tinted red. As it flowed, the faint red deepened into crimson.
A thick smell of blood filled the air.
"What the hell happened here?"
Yorichi frowned and looked upstream, trying to spot the source. After thinking for a moment, he dropped the makeshift bucket and tightened his grip on his sword. He decided to follow the stream upward to find the cause.
He couldn't ignore it — if he wanted clean water again, he had to find where the contamination came from. Once the source was gone, the water would clear up quickly.
He moved along the stream for a long time before the forest opened up into a wide clearing. But what he saw made him freeze.
Upstream, the ground was littered with bodies — hundreds of them. Blood soaked the dirt and pooled into streams that fed directly into the river.
It was a battlefield. The corpses were piled so thick that flesh and armor were tangled together, impossible to tell apart.
Not far from the battlefield stood a ruined town. Smoke rose from several spots, and the charred remains of buildings stretched out before him.
Everything was dead silent. No sign of life.
Then Yorichi noticed something — the clothing of some corpses.
White cloaks, stained with blood, each marked with two bold black characters that looked painfully familiar.
"Justice…"
"The Marines?!"
Yorichi realized in shock that, on his second day in this world, he was already witnessing its cruelty firsthand — the world of One Piece.
From the clothing and the positions of the fallen, he could tell two sides had fought here: Marines — along with armed civilians wielding pitchforks, hoes, and clubs — versus a group of heavily armed, muscular pirates.
The number of dead Marines and civilians far exceeded that of the pirates. And strangely, among the civilian corpses, there were no women or children.
"Did the pirates win?"
"Were the women and kids taken away… or did they hide?"
Crossing the battlefield, Yorichi thought to himself while heading toward the ruined town.
The once well-built houses were now shattered rubble. The wide stone streets were blocked by overturned carts filled with rocks.
Stepping past the debris, he saw the white stone streets stained with blood. Even without seeing it happen, he could imagine the horror that unfolded here.
There wasn't a single untouched spot left.
He entered one house — the living room was a mess, furniture overturned. He opened a bedroom door, and the stench of blood rushed out. A woman's corpse lay on the bed. Yorichi frowned, sighed quietly, and pulled a blanket over her before stepping out.
"…So tragic."
After a brief search through the town, Yorichi passed silently through the ruins, his grip on his sword tightening.
There were no demons here.
But humans… were just as monstrous.
At the edge of the town stood a high cliff overlooking the sea. The ocean breeze washed away the smell of blood.
Yorichi slowly drew his black blade, gazing at its dull reflection. His blurred face looked back at him, and near the base of the blade was the word — "Destroy."
Looking at it, he whispered to himself:
"I think I finally know what I'm meant to do."
"With you… I'll bring light back to this world."
"Black Blade — Dawn!"
As his words fell, dust around his feet stirred violently without wind. An overwhelming, indescribable pressure burst from his body, spreading in all directions.
The distant forest rustled violently, and even the ocean waves seemed to retreat from the shore as if pushed back by an invisible force.
Far out at sea, several kilometers away, a warship with a dog-head figurehead was speeding toward Dragon Roar Island.
At the bow stood a middle-aged man with thick sideburns, wearing a black suit and a Marine cloak emblazoned with "Justice."
Suddenly, a powerful wave of energy rippled through the sea. The current reversed completely.
Feeling it, the man's eyes widened for a second, then he grinned.
"Conqueror's Haki…!"
"I didn't expect the East Blue to produce someone like this."
"So, the disappearance of Unit E-23 — that was your doing, huh?"
"Hahaha… Interesting. You dare attack the Marines? I won't let you off that easily!"
As he chuckled, a Marine soldier rushed up and saluted sharply.
"Vice Admiral Garp, sir! An unknown ocean current just appeared! Continuing on this course might be dangerous. Should we change direction?"
Garp turned his head slightly, still smiling.
"No need. Stay the course. The sea will calm down soon enough."