After having lunch at a delicious restaurant, the group strolled along the bustling streets.
With the fighting championship approaching, the streets were crowded and particularly lively.
"Hey Moses, what's that? It's so colorful and looks really soft—seems like it'd taste amazing?" Yamato asked excitedly.
Moses chuckled. "Cotton candy."
"Is it good?" Yamato tilted her head curiously. "How do you eat it?"
"How else? With your mouth, duh. Or were you planning to use your nose?" Ulti quipped before darting off. She returned moments later with nine servings. "One for everyone. Here."
Taking the first serving from Ulti, Moses smiled at Yamato, who was practically vibrating with impatience. He pinched off a fluffy pink strand and held it out to her.
Yamato blinked, then grinned and took a bite. The next second, she clutched her cheeks in delight, her eyes crinkling into happy crescents. "So sweet! It's like eating sugar floss, but with a peach flavor!"
Sniffing the air, she opened her eyes to see Ulti holding out another cotton candy. Yamato beamed.
"Thanks, Ulti. You're actually kinda nice."
Ulti's face darkened as she snorted.
"Oh yeah? Then don't eat what I bought."
Yamato pretended not to hear, happily accepting it and nibbling strand by strand.
"Heheh, you gave it to me, so of course I'll take it."
As they wandered the streets enjoying their treats, Moses noticed Kawamatsu gradually falling behind, putting some distance between himself and the group.
Slowing his pace, Moses glanced at him after a few seconds. Kawamatsu met his gaze.
"Lord Moses, is something the matter?"
Moses shook his head. "Is it because of the way people are looking at you?"
Kawamatsu fell silent briefly before voicing his confusion.
"Lord Moses, can you tell me why? I don't understand—why are fish-men discriminated against, excluded, even hunted down, when we share the same blood?"
"Fear of the unknown. Fear stems from ignorance and one's own weakness. Fish-men are naturally stronger than humans, with unique appearances and deep-sea origins. People fear what they can't resist."
"Beyond that, there are countless other factors—too many to explain now. But remember this: you're not Berries. Why bother making everyone like you? Just live happily for yourself."
"Obsessing over others' approval will only weigh you down."
"Look around you. There will always be those who accept you."
Kawamatsu froze. Throughout their walk, he'd endured too many scornful, hateful stares.
It reminded him of his childhood—when he and his mother had accidentally drifted to Wano. The villagers had scorned them, hurling stones to drive them away. His mother had succumbed to her injuries.
Because he resembled the River Imp of Wano's legends, his dying mother had urged him to adopt the name, hoping it would help him blend in.
A means of self-preservation.
Human prejudice against fish-men could be deadly.
"You're truly kind, just like Lord Oden back then. You didn't care about my status, saved me, took me in, and even gave me food."
Moses shook his head with a smile:
"Kind? I'm not kind at all. I just don't dislike you, that's all."
"Don't dislike me?"
Kawamatsu laughed:
"That means you don't discriminate against me. That's already more than enough, and I'm very happy."
Moses grinned and said, "If you're happy, then hurry up and keep up. Don't dawdle like some timid man."
Moses quickly caught up with the group ahead in a few strides.
Kawamatsu followed suit, watching Hiyori happily playing with the others up front. A faint smile touched his lips as he murmured to himself:
"If I could follow Lord Moses like this in the future, it would feel really nice. But alas!"
Along the way, they sampled various snacks and enjoyed all sorts of amusing things.
Being newcomers to the outside world, everyone was exceptionally excited. The diverse array of delicacies and the arrival of various races for the world-class tournament broadened their horizons.
"Have you heard? The royal family has gone all out for this world-class fighting tournament."
"How so?"
"You know how it is—every time there's a world-class fighting tournament, the royal family of this country prepares an exceptionally generous reward for the champion.
Sometimes it's hundreds of millions of Berries, other times it's rare treasures, and occasionally even a noble title. But guess what the royal family is offering as the prize this time?"
"What? What? Spit it out already!"
"Come on, tell us! What did you find out?"
"Hehehe, since you're so eager to know, I'll reluctantly tell you. The prize for this world-class fighting champion is none other than that legendary thing!"
"Ahem, don't glare at me like that—I'll say it! It's the legendary Devil Fruit, said to grant miraculous abilities when eaten.
It's the legendary Great Treasure."
"Whoa—" "No way—" "Seriously?!"
Gasps filled the air. After a long pause, one man said with deep envy:
"I see. I remember the champion's prize fifteen years ago was also a Devil Fruit. Who would've thought we'd see it again after fifteen years.
The royal family is really splurging this time. The country's royals sure are wealthy."
"Tch, think bigger. Do you know how much profit a world-class fighting tournament brings to the country? Just the arena tickets alone earn them a fortune, not to mention the staggering economic benefits from the flood of outsiders."
"Hah, true. They only need to spare a few crumbs from their feast. As expected, those noble lords are clever indeed."
At an open-air bar.
Moses and the others sat around a circular table.
Nearby, another table was deep in lively conversation.
Moses observed their mannerisms thoughtfully and mused:
They're plants.
Specially sent out to spread the word.
We've already run into at least ten groups promoting this along the way.
Maybe not all of them, but more than half, for sure.
Just then, Yamato turned to Moses with gleaming eyes. "A world-class fighting tournament? A fighting champion? Moses, let's join too!"
Her face was alight with excitement, as were the others'.
Moses smiled and said, "Sure, I'm quite interested in that championship prize or whatever it is."
"But since it's a martial arts tournament, the rules probably won't allow weapons. Are you okay with that?"
"Hehe~" Yamato clenched her fist, flexing her bicep as a bulge of muscle swelled, her lips curling into a smirk. "I'm really strong, you know."
With that, she thumped her already well-developed chest twice, grinning proudly.
"My fists are itching for a fight."
Moses chuckled. Yamato really gave off the vibe of a hot-blooded simpleton. He then looked at the others and asked, "What about the rest of you? Anyone else want to join?"
"A world-class martial arts tournament, held only once every five years—this is a rare opportunity."
Hearing this, Ulti was the first to raise her hand, giggling. "This humble girl would like to give it a try too."
Ushiwakamaru shook her head. "I'm a swordsman. Without my blade, my strength would be greatly diminished, so I won't participate."
"Alright, I'll teach you unarmed combat later. If you don't even know the No-Sword Style, your training is still lacking."
Kawamatsu then asked curiously, "A martial arts tournament? How does it compare to sumo?"
"Pretty similar—both involve bare-knuckle brawls in an arena. But this one is probably no-holds-barred, where life and death are left to fate."
"Then this humble one won't participate. Lord Moses, you all go ahead and have fun. I'll watch from the stands and protect Lady Hiyori and the others while I'm at it."
"Fine. Let's go register now."
With that, Moses and the others stood up and headed toward the city's second-tallest circular building in the distance to the north.
The tallest, of course, was the royal castle.
In this world, the royal family of every country built their residence at the highest point in the nation's center.
Before long, they arrived at the entrance of the world's premier coliseum, named Fisk.
Near the entrance, there were over a dozen registration points, each with a long line of people waiting.
Moses, Yamato, and Ulti picked a line and started queuing, while Ushiwakamaru and the others waited in a nearby garden.
Soon, the line ahead dwindled, and it was Moses's turn. The staff member handling registrations was a woman with delicate features.
Looking at Moses's youthful face, she flashed a standard professional smile.
"Are you here to register for the martial arts tournament? I'm sorry, but the world-class tournament has an age restriction. Participants must be at least fifteen years old."
"What a coincidence—I just turned sixteen. I just look young for my age."
The staff member's expression remained unchanged as she nodded apologetically. "My mistake. Since you meet the age requirement, I'll proceed with your registration."
"Let me explain the rules in advance. This year's World Martial Arts Tournament begins at 9 AM on August 1st, which is in a few days. You'll need to arrive at least two hours early for check-in and match assignments. The latest you can arrive is 8:30 AM. If you're late, you'll be disqualified, so please prepare accordingly."
"Now, let me register your details. Your name, gender, age, and place of origin?"
"Da Bao, male, 16, North Blue."
"Alright, please wait a moment. I'll take your photo now, which will be attached to your participant card."
Click!
A staff member used a camera Den Den Mushi to take Moses' picture, and soon a small photo of Moses was printed out from a nearby device. The photo was then affixed to the side of the participant card where the information was recorded.
"Here's your participant card. Please keep it safe, as replacements won't be issued. Also, with this card, you can purchase up to three front-row tickets for the tournament venue at half price, or get a 70% discount on regular seating at the back."
As he spoke, he pressed a stamp firmly onto a palm-sized special card bearing Moses' information. The participant card featured an anti-counterfeit design—two muscular arms colliding with each other.
"Please keep this safe. Here's also the rulebook. Take some time to read it. Violating the rules will result in disqualification."
Moses reached out and took the participant card and the thin rulebook, then stepped aside.
In less than five minutes, he watched as Yamato smoothly received her participant card and rulebook, smiling at her. Then, with a strange expression, he turned to Ulti, who, at less than nine years old and only 1.2 meters tall, was being politely refused by the staff, her face flushed with frustration.
"Sorry, little miss. You clearly don't meet the age requirement. Please don't make this difficult for me."
Seeing this, Moses stepped forward, placing a hand on Ulti's head, and explained to the staff:
"Apologies, we're actually together. She's from the dwarven tribe—don't let her youthful face fool you. She's actually fifteen and eligible to participate."
The staff member gave Moses, who was obviously not sixteen himself, a skeptical look, his lips twitching. But in the end, he relented. Some people just wouldn't listen to reason, but out of kindness, he added:
"If you feel like you can't win during the match, you can jump off the arena. That counts as forfeiting."
Moses nodded with a smile and led the sulking Ulti and the giggling Yamato away—after all, Yamato was currently the tallest of the three.
As soon as the trio rejoined Bear Cub and the others, they were swarmed with excited chatter. Hiyori curiously took the participant card and rulebook from Moses and began reading aloud in her clear, expressive voice:
"World-Class Combat Tournament Rules."
"1. Participants may only engage in combat on the designated tournament stage. Falling off the stage results in disqualification."
"2. The World Combat Tournament permits only hand-to-hand combat. Protective gear and small hand or foot weapons, such as knuckle dusters or gloves, are allowed, but bladed weapons, swords, firearms, and similar weapons are prohibited. Violators will be disqualified."
"3. Participants must sign a waiver before competing, absolving the tournament organizers of any responsibility for injuries or fatalities."
"The above three rules must be carefully read by all participants from around the world. Finally, we wish you success in the tournament. Whether it be wealth, fame, or power—only the victor may claim it. With that, we congratulate you in advance on your potential championship in this world-class combat tournament."
After finishing the rules, Hiyori puffed out her cheeks:
"That last line is clearly meant to stir up emotions, isn't it? The fights are going to be brutal, aren't they?"
"If it's not brutal or spectacular, how can the organizers make money?"
Moses chuckled lightly. "Besides, no one forced us to participate. We're all just common folks drawn by the championship prizes and fame."
"Some crave wealth, some seek reputation, and others might simply love the raw thrill of fist-to-flesh combat."
"Let's go. First, I'll buy your tickets."
"Such a rip-off. Shouldn't family members of participants get a few free tickets?"
Page One muttered under his breath, prompting a laugh from Moses.
"A front-row ticket costs at least 500,000 Berries. How could they just give them away?"
Soon after, Moses walked out of the ticket hall with six front-row tickets in hand.
He handed one to each of them.
"Lord Moses, your matches aren't for a few more days. What should we do now? Should we give Yamato and Ulti some special training in advance?"
Kawamatsu spoke up. Of course, he didn't mention Moses—because Moses didn't need it.
Moses smiled. "We still have time to prepare. Let's go buy some 'equipment' for Ulti first. She needs some means to protect herself."
Since Ulti had the Absorption Fruit ability, Moses had agreed to let her compete. Otherwise, given her petite frame, he wouldn't have felt at ease.
He glanced at Ulti.
Strength Rating: E+
With the Absorption Fruit, she could rely on high-density materials to turn herself into a solid tank. The goal wasn't for her to reach the final
s—just to participate and gain some early combat experience.
A short while later, in an upscale jewelry store.
They approached the counter.
Moses examined the jewelry on display.
At first glance, his eyes landed on a small, exquisite silver earring studded with diamonds—the finest piece in the entire collection.
Its frequency vibrations were the most intense.
The purity was excellent.