A crisp voice echoed in Mihawk's ears.
Seeing this red-haired youth who had somehow appeared behind him, Mihawk's body instantly surged with killing intent.
For a swordsman, how could he possibly tolerate someone sneaking up behind him?
In a flash, Mihawk drew Yoru, the black blade, and without hesitation thrust it directly toward Yoriichi Tsugikuni's chest. This time, the attack was even faster and fiercer than before, his blade cloaked in Armament Haki.
"Dracule Mihawk, attacking a Marine is a serious crime!"
Yoriichi smiled calmly at Mihawk's strike, but his hands moved swiftly. The moment Mihawk pulled back his blade, Yoriichi had already read his intentions. As the thrust came in, Yoriichi angled his own blade and cleanly deflected the attack.
At the same time, he lunged forward, stepping into Mihawk's space and ramming the hilt of his sword hard into Mihawk's chest.
From Kyros and the others' perspective, Yoriichi had blocked the incoming strike with such ease, it looked like he'd barely moved.
Compared to the visible effort Issho had shown while fending off Mihawk earlier, Yoriichi's casual response left a deep impression.
"This Marine... he's incredibly strong!"
As Yoriichi counterattacked, Mihawk had already pulled back his blade, positioning it wide and flat to block.
In the next moment, Yoriichi's sword hilt slammed into Yoru, the force roaring through the steel and into Mihawk's body.
CLANG!!!
A sharp crash rang out through the tavern. In the same breath, Mihawk's figure was blasted backward, smashing straight through the tavern's saloon doors and vanishing from sight.
Yoriichi adjusted his grip on the blade, shifting into a standard stance. Then, in the blink of an eye, his figure disappeared from the tavern as well.
Seeing him vanish, Kyros and Issho immediately rushed out of the tavern to follow.
That swordsman, Dracule Mihawk, was undeniably powerful.
Although Yoriichi clearly held the upper hand, neither Issho nor Kyros dared to let their guard down. When people of their level crossed swords, a single moment could determine victory or defeat.
Neither of them wanted to see Yoriichi get hurt.
As they emerged from the tavern, they saw that a house directly across the street had a massive hole blasted into it, still shrouded in a swirling cloud of dust.
Earlier, word had already spread that a "murder incident" had occurred in the tavern. By now, the nearby residents had fled, leaving the once-busy street eerily deserted.
Yoriichi stood at the tavern's entrance, sword in hand, eyes calmly fixed on the crater across from him.
"Not strong enough. At this age, Mihawk's still not strong enough."
"He's not even on par with Kozuki Oden."
Yoriichi's gaze pierced the smoke, focusing on Mihawk's figure lying amidst the rubble, and quietly assessed his strength.
Clearly, the young Mihawk had not yet reached his peak. His Haki lacked the depth and explosiveness of someone like Oden, a man of emperor-level caliber.
And the gap between Mihawk and Yoriichi... was even greater.
Rustle...
A soft sound stirred the dust cloud.
Mihawk slowly rose from the rubble, dirt and debris falling from his body with each movement. He held his sword tightly, and with a gentle sweep, blew the lingering dust away from his surroundings.
He had successfully blocked Yoriichi's strike. Though dusty and disheveled, he wasn't seriously injured.
Staring at the red-haired Marine standing not far ahead, Mihawk's eyes lit up with burning battle spirit, there was even a tinge of feverish obsession.
"Swordsman!"
"What's your name?!"
He raised Yoru and pointed it at Yoriichi, demanding in a cold tone.
"Vice Admiral of Marine Headquarters, Yoriichi Tsugikuni."
Yoriichi responded plainly while raising his sword, blade angled toward Mihawk.
"Yoriichi Tsugikuni, huh..."
"Marine, you have my respect. As a swordsman, you're worthy to face me!"
To Yoriichi's ears, Mihawk's words practically dripped with melodrama.
Still, he smiled slightly and didn't waste time with banter.
He moved first.
Kicking off the ground, Yoriichi vanished.
He didn't use the Selfless State. In Mihawk's Kenbunshoku Haki, Yoriichi's presence could still be felt.
But to Mihawk's senses, that presence was as calm and unremarkable as that of an ordinary man.
And yet Mihawk knew, this man who felt like a civilian was terrifyingly strong!
In the blink of an eye, Yoriichi appeared directly in front of Mihawk, blade in hand, slicing horizontally toward his chest. Though fast, Mihawk had predicted it using his Haki, raising his sword vertically to block.
But just as the blades were about to clash, Yoriichi loosened his grip on the sword with his right hand.
The blade dropped mid-air.
Mihawk's eyes widened. He didn't have time to react or adjust his stance.
In the next instant, Yoriichi's left hand caught the falling blade and, with the momentum of the motion, slammed it hard into Mihawk's waist.
In the space of a breath, Yoriichi had swapped hands mid-attack, bypassed Mihawk's defenses, and landed a solid blow.
Mihawk managed to activate Armament Haki just in time to coat his waist, but,
THUD!!!
The impact thundered through the street.
Under the watchful eyes of Issho and Kyros, Mihawk was sent flying once more, carving a deep trench along the stone-paved road. He skidded across the ground for tens of meters before finally coming to a stop.
Breath ragged, Mihawk lay on the ground, wincing with each inhale. Pain stabbed through his waist with every breath. He couldn't even sit up right away.
"That Marine swordsman is ridiculously strong!!"
Gripping his sword tightly, Mihawk forced himself to sit up, eyes locked on Yoriichi, who now calmly swapped the sword back into his right hand.
The fire in Mihawk's eyes flared again.
An overwhelmingly powerful swordsman. One with unmatched technique. A pure, unshakable blade-wielder.
This, this was the opponent Mihawk had been searching for his entire life.
But just as he sat upright again, Mihawk realized something.
Yoriichi's presence... had vanished.
Gone from his senses.
And the next moment, Yoriichi vanished from his line of sight as well.
As Mihawk began scanning for him, a cold pressure touched the side of his neck.
Then a low, steady voice whispered by his ear:
"Dracule Mihawk. You are under arrest."
Mihawk slowly lowered his gaze and saw the black edge of a blade resting against his shoulder. At some point, Yoriichi had appeared behind him once more.
The burning battle spirit in Mihawk's eyes began to fade, replaced by a dazed and distant look.
I lost...?
Just like that...?
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100 P.S = 1 Extra Chapter
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