Kamui
The void spun in absolute silence.
Riser stood on a floating platform of black stone, enveloped by the pulsing darkness of Kamui. His left eye glowed with the activated Mangekyō, projecting a suspended window in the air—an oval rift of folded space.
On the other side of the rift, Water 7 breathed.
The bar still exhaled smoke and shadow. The door closed slowly, the bell jingling one final time.
Zala walked first, her dark blade strapped to her waist, eyes fixed ahead.
Mikita twirled her umbrella, golden hair swaying in the gentle dockside breeze.
Riser remained still.
'They executed it with precision. No hesitation.'
The window floated with perfect stability, framing the darkened interior of the bar.
'Good combination. Direct force and light distraction. Subtle and deadly.'
The Sharingan spun one last time.
FWOOSH.
The space folded with a sharp sound.
Riser vanished.
Bar – Interior
Silence reigned like a heavy cloak.
The shattered glass reflected the timid light of late afternoon, casting broken patterns on the floor. The air carried a mixed scent of blood, charred wood, and silent gunpowder.
Blueno lay in the center of the room. His body sprawled like a soulless doll.
His eyes were open but unseeing. His skin, cold. His final expression—belated resignation, marked by pain.
FWOOSH.
Riser appeared at the edge of the bar, his black coat fluttering lightly.
The Mangekyō still active.
The energy of Kamui dissipated slowly, like dark smoke retracting its claws.
His golden eyes scanned the room calmly.
Shattered bottles. Tables split in half. A trail of blood leading to the left wall.
He walked among the shards without touching a single one.
His boots stepped with mathematical precision. No ripples. No disturbance.
Blueno's body was partially sunk into the floor, his posture arched backward as if trying to escape the final blow that had pinned him there.
Riser stopped beside the corpse.
His left hand rose slowly.
"Extract."
The command came like a note buried in silence.
The system responded in his mind with mechanical clarity:
[Villain System 2.0 – Extraction in progress…]
His hand hovered over the dead man's chest.
The skin shimmered. A circular symbol formed above the heart—translucent, spinning slowly like an ancient seal.
[Akuma no Mi identified: Doa Doa no Mi]
[Type: Paramecia]
[Effect: Generates dimensional portals on any surface touched, including the user's own body]
The seal spun faster.
Blueno's skin wrinkled slightly around the mark. The energy condensed into invisible spirals.
The symbol detached, like a solid projection of smoke and light.
At the center of the seal, a fruit began to form.
Black. Covered in silver spiral patterns. The rind resembled scorched leather with hints of grayish-blue.
The fruit floated, suspended between the physical world and Kamui.
[Extraction complete.]
[Doa Doa no Mi added to inventory.]
[Luck Points: 31,500]
Riser closed his fingers.
The fruit vanished into the air like digital dust.
The system retreated silently, concealing the newly acquired data.
He lowered his hand slowly.
His eyes lingered on the corpse for a few more seconds.
'Portals… windows… secret passages.'
'A useful fruit. But limited.'
The silence held firm.
Outside, the sound of the sea was a distant whisper, muffled by the broken walls.
Riser turned.
The shadows molded to his body naturally.
The afternoon light filtered through the cracks in the roof, tinting his back with diffuse gold.
He walked to the center of the room, where a single chair still stood.
He sat.
His fingers slid over the chipped wood of the armrest.
He leaned back slightly.
The chair creaked in protest.
'Blueno was a test. The others… will be entertaining.'
The bell at the door swayed with the outside breeze. No living soul returned.
The entire bar felt like a glass tomb.
Riser closed his eyes for a moment.
He inhaled.
One step.
Outside, the wind carried dry leaves.
Riser stood.
His coat flowed with the movement.
The shadows stretched beneath his feet.
"Time to take the next step."
FWOOSH.
Kamui activated.
The distortion opened beneath his feet like a hungry maw.
He vanished.
The chair creaked one last time before tipping to the side.
The bar plunged into darkness.
Kamui – Return
The space reassembled with a snap.
Riser floated again in the absolute void of the distorted dimension.
The stone platforms surrounded him. Runes flickered in slow rotation, like moons without orbits.
His hands were clasped behind his back.
His left eye still spun, controlling time and space with absolute dominion.
'Water 7 has been marked.'
'Kalifa is on her way.'
'The CP9 is divided and vulnerable.'
A faint golden glow appeared ahead.
The system's inventory materialized, floating in the air—a window of solid light, with objects arranged like relics in divine display cases.
Among them:
Goro Goro no Mi
Yami Yami no Mi
Doa Doa no Mi
It was a useful piece, a wildcard for war, espionage, execution. But not for him.
'It will be used… when I decide who deserves to walk through walls.'
The inventory vanished as if it had never existed.
The darkness pulsed once more.
'Water 7 is falling.'
'Kalifa…'
The name danced in his mind like a dormant note on a glass piano.
'Now let's see.'
His left eye spun. Kamui responded instantly, opening a sequence of floating dimensional windows around Riser's body.
Each one hovered, vibrating like water surfaces where the light of the real world projected.
Scenes from the city below appeared: streets wet with mechanical vapor, train tracks running over shipyards, men carrying metal parts among ships under construction.
'No…'
The Sharingan spun again. His vision leapt from block to block. Engineers' houses. Maintenance centers. Restaurants. Hatches. Tourists.
Until the right window appeared.
There she was.
Kalifa.
Alone. Standing on the docks. The breeze tugged gently at the golden strands escaping her neat bun. Her glasses glinted in the sunset, reflecting ships and the Galley-La Company's banners.
Her black coat outlined her form with calculated austerity.
Her arms were crossed, but she wasn't waiting for anyone.
She was searching.
'So this is how the spider waits for the fly.'
The Mangekyō slowed. Riser stepped back from the edge of the floating window.
She hadn't seen.
But she knew.
'You're waiting for me, Kalifa.'
The aura around him flickered, as if even Kamui's reality felt the silent electricity of the impending moment. The golden glow in his eyes faded slowly.
'But if I step out now, you'll react as an agent.'
'Not as a target.'
He turned.
The floating runes began to spiral in reverse. The platform beneath him dissolved, reforming a new base farther from the city—on the other side of Water 7's shore, where the tracks plunged into vegetation and heaps of old metal.
'From there… I can watch her before letting her see me.'
FWOOSH.
Water 7 – Outer Docks
Kalifa stood still.
Motionless. Alert.
Sailors passed her from time to time, some casting discreet glances, others looking away before even noticing the Galley-La symbol.
She was respected there.
But not seen as a threat.
The perfect position.
The sea lapped gently against the pillars. The sun reflected in golden streaks on the water below.
She didn't breathe with haste.
She simply waited.
'Not here. Not yet.'
Her fingers slid over her wrist, where the communicator bracelet vibrated almost imperceptibly. No new orders.
'Spandam must be writhing with anxiety. Maybe dead. Maybe still useful.'
She didn't care.
If the target now was Riser… then everything else was noise.
Her eyes scanned the ships, faces, hats, silhouettes. She moved little, disguising each gesture as a trivial shift in posture, breath, or boredom.
'No sign. No trace. No presence.'
But something prickled her skin. Her neck tingled for seconds. The kind of intuition elite agents learn to trust.
He was close.
She knew.
'Come, Riser Phenex.'
The thought was cold. Determined.
'Come and find out how sweet… or lethal I can be.'
She sighed for the first time in ten minutes.
Her eyes returned to the sea. The smile at the corner of her mouth was subtle, almost imperceptible.
But it was there.
Then she saw him.
At the far end of the north dock, among stacked crates and motionless cranes, a blond figure approached.
His steps were calm. His black coat swayed gently in rhythm with the wind. The sunlight reflected off his golden hair, as if the day recognized him before anyone else.
His face exposed.
Golden eyes.
'Him…'
The image matched the one in the newspaper, plastered beside the headline about the looming war.
Riser Phenex. The new Shichibukai. The man who devoured legends.
She didn't move a muscle.
But every cell in her body reconfigured. Her blood slowed. Her muscles relaxed into absolute alertness. Her mind organized protocols.
Analysis, approach, execution—or seduction, as needed.
He walked like someone with no hurry. Like someone who already owned the world.
And perhaps he did.
His eyes swept the surroundings.
They stopped on her.
Just for an instant.
But it was enough to freeze the air between them.
Kalifa adjusted her glasses with a smooth gesture, her fingers gliding along the frame with studied care. A signal. An invitation.
He kept walking.
Straight.
Toward her.
She tilted her head slightly, as if recognizing an important face while feigning doubt.
"You don't look like someone who belongs here."
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