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Chapter Head Serialization · Lovesick Serialization Temporarily Paused Six · Two Sides of the Story
On a remote island near the Calm Belt, the handsome prince sat on the rooftop, puffing his cheeks in frustration.
Inside the house, Annie, Amoline, Mari'an, and the cheerful villagers filled the room with laughter and tears, warmth and joy.
Far away in the Lulusia Kingdom, the wandering painter George pushed open a door, his face scruffy with a tangled mustache. As soon as he opened his mouth, the lingering smell of alcohol escaped. Still drunk, he staggered out into the street…
…
Meanwhile, back at the tournament,
This was already the second round of internal debate.
The first round had been about whether to directly disqualify the audacious Chopperna Giorno for his outrageous behavior and strip him of eligibility.
But once the higher-ups made a decision, that discussion was terminated.
Now, the debate shifted to what to do with the sudden plunge in remaining contestants, from over 1,500 down to just 300. Should the competition structure be urgently revised?
One person suggested: "Since there are so few left, why not just throw all 300 into the arena at once and pick the top 8 from there?"
But after even the briefest consideration, it was clear:
Among these 300… more than a few were not the type to play by the rules.
After all, if these 300 were the only ones left, and you cut down the rest,
Wouldn't you instantly become the champion? The strongest great Swordsman in the world?!
Why bother with quarterfinals, semifinals, or finals?
"I'll just go on a rampage now and call it a day!"
"There will absolutely be people thinking this way," said the older chief referee, his expression grave as he looked at his colleagues.
"I've been a tournament referee for years, even judged fighting tournaments in the New World. I know all too well how these lawless sea-wolves think… Never underestimate them."
'Never underestimate what?' The other referees silently sweated.
'Never underestimate how low they'll go to break the rules?!'
The young assistant referee scribbled notes while recalling the man who had muttered,
"The organizers are really considerate, huh…"
She thought to herself:
If all 300 were actually thrown onto the stage at once… There really might not be any top 8 left to speak of...
"Huh? We still have to do seven more preliminary matches?" Liam, upon receiving the news, looked completely bewildered.
He had thought that after causing such a spectacle today, he could finish this casually entered competition and be on his way.
The staff member delivering the news answered firmly:
"That's correct." Liam looked toward Robin.
She said, "Each match will have around forty participants."
The staff member nodded: "That's right."
Liam sighed seriously: "Only forty per match? That's nowhere near enough for those unruly maniacs to hack at each other properly!"
"Wouldn't that mean the seven matches could be wrapped up in a single morning?
What's the afternoon then, a half-day vacation?"
You're the most unruly one here… Who caused that absurd sword rain and wiped out over a thousand people in one shot?
The staff member was bursting with things he couldn't say out loud, so he just numbly nodded:
"That's right…"
Then quickly realized his mistake and shook his head furiously:
"No, wrong! I mean… not exactly!"
"Don't worry, no rush, take your time," Robin said gently, smiling.
"There are still three matches this morning," the staff member managed to squeeze out, face bright red. "Four more in the afternoon… all still following the original schedule."
He hurried off as soon as he finished.
Liam scratched his head.
"Am I really that scary?"
"Maybe," Robin replied, brushing her hand along his cheek. She glanced around, the more than 1,000 injured contestants from earlier still hadn't all been stretchered off yet.
"Are you afraid of me?" Liam asked softly, lowering his head.
"I was, on the first day," Robin said, gently stroking the rough edge of his cheek with the back of her hand.
"The first day, huh… Oh." Liam suddenly remembered and laughed, "I must've scared you back then, huh? Ha ha, I was such a jerk…"
Was it because of that "Book of Prophecy" that you recognized me instantly? Revealed my identity and my bounty?
Robin didn't ask aloud.
She remembered what Liam had once told her:
"Even if you guess something, don't ask. I won't answer anyway."
"What were you thinking at the time?" She heard him ask again.
"That…" Robin touched her cheek, tilted her head back to look up at his upside-down chin, and recalled, "Although your words did scare me, I guess I was already used to situations like that. So, I didn't think too much about it. I just noticed those people chasing us from a distance and immediately hid behind a pile of trash."
"And you?" Robin turned around, wrapped her arms around his waist, and looked up, asking, "Why did you speak to those criminal organization thugs like that back then? They could've easily shot you dead."
"I don't even know where the end of the universe is, how could I know something like that?" Liam scratched his head optimistically. "I had just crawled out of a garbage heap, how clear-headed could I be? Maybe I thought, 'If I die again, whatever… I'll just treat it like a weird dream.'"
"A Stand only awakens after a strong enough shock," Robin analyzed seriously. "Maybe your subconscious instinctively felt that acting like that would help trigger B.I.B."
The two of them leaned close together, talking like there was no one else around.
Not far away… or even further… on the spectator stands… And with the match not yet resumed, the big screen occasionally cut to their footage, audiences both on-site and all over the world were collectively shocked, left speechless.
Did this guy even realize what he just did?! How could he still be so relaxed and clingy with his female captain…
Wait, female "captain"? That's basically a lover, right?!
So that's what's going on! No wonder it's a pirate crew of just two people, and the captain doesn't even mind that her crew member's bounty is higher than hers!
"Second match is starting."
Liam and Robin stood at the edge of the arena, not too close, not too far, watching as the next forty-some contestants slowly ascended the platform.
Most had retrieved their own swords. Every step they took toward the platform was heavy with tension. Because among those ascending was a tall, slender woman with a wide-brimmed round hat and a thin, famed blade sheathed at her back…
Ghost Lady, Charlotte Amande.
As soon as all forty Swordsmanes stood on the platform, they swiftly drew their swords and, with remarkable coordination, turned the blade edges toward the tall woman whose face was obscured by the hat.
At the announcer's signal, the match began.
Forty-plus Swordsmanes gripped their hilts tightly and moved, All their blades aimed at the daughter of a sea emperor!
One-on-one, the odds are too low! We have to join forces to take her out first!
But…
Amande didn't change her pace at all. She continued walking slowly across the platform, then calmly descended the opposite side.
"Wait… Is she forfeiting?"
"Hold on, what?!"
At first, the spectators were confused, unable to figure out what she was doing. Then, their pupils contracted in horror, as if witnessing the impossible.
Amande walked serenely and gracefully off the platform.
Her hand, at some unknown point, had rested on the hilt of her sword. A sliver of the shiny, slender blade peeked out.
Clang. She slid the sword back into its sheath.
Behind her, all forty Swordsmanes who had raised their weapons toward her stood frozen, Then one by one, blood gushed from their bodies as they collapsed.
"Fuh..."
A wisp of smoke curled up from under the brim of her wide hat. Amande's steps never faltered as she drifted away.
"'Slow Waltz'... what a deceptive move name."
Liam recalled the sequence of Amande's walk-and-slash moment from the platform.
"She moved slowly, but her sword strikes… weren't slow at all. They were too fast. Faster than Cavendish the Hakuba."
"She's so strong…" Robin, like the others, was stunned by the grace and terrifying skill of a traditional swordswoman. "Even if I used Hehua Zizai, I probably couldn't execute sword techniques like hers…"
Hehua Zizai could copy a target's physical abilities, even all their Haki.
But it couldn't copy their thoughts or memories, and even sensory links were limited.
For things like swordsmanship, Haki application, or martial arts techniques, Robin had to operate on her own.
With B.I.B.'s support, she could occasionally feel what it was like to move like a king and push her limits, but when it came to Sword Technique, she hit a wall.
Because Liam wasn't a real swordsman. His Stand couldn't help Robin gain the kind of battle experience that great swordsmen had.
"You're up next." Liam patted her on the shoulder.
Third Prelim Match, Kujo Jolyne enters the stage.
(End Of This Chapter)