The sea did not roar.
It held its breath.
A coffin-shaped boat drifted forward through the fractured remains of Don Krieg's fleet, gliding over wreckage as if the ocean itself had parted out of respect. No sail caught the wind. No oars touched water. It moved with the quiet certainty of something that did not need permission.
A man stood upon it.
"Long time no see, Luffy."
The voice was calm. Flat. Utterly without strain.
Luffy's lips curled upward, slow and deliberate.
"That's right," he said. "Hawk-Eye."
Behind him, the cooks of the Baratie stood frozen, clustered near Zeff like children hiding behind a lighthouse during a storm. The remnants of Krieg's pirates floated in broken disbelief, clinging to debris, staring at the man who had ended their fleet without even looking back.
To Luffy's right, Zoro's breathing had changed.
It was subtle. Barely noticeable. But Luffy felt it.
Zoro's hand slid to the hilt of his sword.
There he is…
The world's greatest swordsman.
Zoro's heartbeat thundered in his ears.
He had imagined this moment countless times—on blood-soaked roads, beneath collapsing suns, staring into mirrors sharpened by ambition. But imagination did not prepare him for reality.
Reality stood there casually, wearing boredom like a crown.
"I didn't expect to meet him so soon," Zoro thought, tightening his grip. "But I won't back down."
A chef's voice cracked the silence.
"How… how did he split that ship in half?!"
The question echoed across the water, unanswered—until Luffy chuckled.
"He cut it off."
That was all he said.
No explanation. No elaboration.
Zeff exhaled slowly.
"That man is Dracule Mihawk," he said. "The greatest swordsman in the world."
Gasps rippled through the cooks.
Zeff continued, his voice steady. "And the weapon he used…"
Every eye followed his gaze.
Strapped across Mihawk's back was a blade so large it defied proportion—a black cross made steel, its edge gleaming with an unnatural sheen. Not rusted. Not chipped. Perfect.
"That sword," Zeff said, "is Yoru. One of the twelve Supreme Grade blades."
A chef swallowed audibly.
Mihawk's hand rose.
Just slightly.
His fingers brushed the hilt.
The air changed.
Luffy's eyes sharpened. His hand rested on his own sword—not threatening, not defensive, merely ready.
Before anything else could happen, Zoro stepped forward.
A green bandana snapped into place over his hair.
The world narrowed.
He moved.
Luffy caught him by the shirt and hurled him backward.
Zoro slammed into the deck, skidding.
"What the hell was that for!?" Zoro roared.
"You'll die," Luffy replied, never taking his eyes off Mihawk.
"In vain."
Zoro's blood boiled.
"Are you saying I can't beat him!?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying."
The words fell like an execution.
"You don't understand how big the ocean is," Luffy continued. "You're strong—but right now, you're a fish that hasn't seen the deep."
Luffy drew his sword.
The blade hummed.
"One swing," he said. "Watch."
He brought it down.
The already-broken Saber Dreadnaught split again—cleanly, violently—wood screaming as the ship tore itself into four collapsing corpses.
The sea swallowed the wreckage.
Krieg screamed.
Silence followed.
Zoro stared.
His hands shook—not with fear, but with clarity.
"…Still only one way to find out," he said.
He jumped.
Luffy sighed.
"I want him alive," Luffy said quietly.
Mihawk smiled.
"I'll try."
Zoro raised his swords.
"I challenge you," he declared, "for the title of the world's greatest swordsman!"
Mihawk descended lightly onto the wreckage.
"You're right," Mihawk said. "You don't know how big the world is."
Then—
A dagger.
A knife.
The cross pendant around Mihawk's neck unfolded.
Zoro's pride screamed.
They clashed.
Steel rang.
Zoro attacked with everything he had—speed, strength, killing intent—but Mihawk parried with lazy precision, his movements almost bored.
Luffy watched.
Not intervening.
Not interfering.
This pain is necessary.
Then—
Mihawk stabbed Zoro through the chest.
The world froze.
Blood sprayed.
Zoro did not fall.
He stood.
He roared.
He attacked again.
Mihawk's eyes widened—just a fraction.
Then Yoru was drawn.
One swing.
Zoro's swords shattered.
His body was carved open.
He fell.
"ZORO!!"
Usopp and the bounty hunters dove after him.
Luffy vanished.
Steel screamed.
The sky detonated.
When vision returned, Luffy and Mihawk stood locked—swords clashing, shockwaves tearing through the Baratie, glass exploding, pirates collapsing, chefs screaming.
Clouds split above them.
The sky itself was torn open.
"Heaven…" a cook whispered. "It's split…"
Zoro screamed.
"LUFFY!!"
Luffy disengaged instantly.
Zoro lay broken—but smiling.
"I'll never lose again," Zoro declared through blood and tears. "Until I defeat him."
Luffy smiled.
"Not a problem."
Mihawk sheathed his blade.
"Find me," he told Zoro. "I'll wait."
Then, to Luffy—
"You still aim for the throne?"
"You know the answer."
Mihawk turned away.
Lightning struck.
Krieg burned.
Luffy finished it.
The sea went quiet.