Kiri and Silk were running.
They started to keep enemies from interfering with Luffy. But soon, the chase grew intense, turning into a game of tag with no real purpose. They'd pause to fight, then flee again, battling and escaping repeatedly—a frustrating tactic for their foes.
With their skill, they could win outright, making escape unnecessary.
It was likely Kiri's idea to run. Silk, puzzled, kept pace with him.
His unflappable calm was a strength, but this time, she couldn't grasp his intent. If they wanted to end it, they could stop and fight.
Behind them, Richie the lion and Mohji, riding its back, chased desperately. Kiri's occasional paper barrages slowed Richie's superior speed, preventing a catch-up. Kiri glanced back, grinning at them.
"They're persistent. Hoped they'd tire, but no luck," he said.
"Is this even useful? Couldn't you just fight and win?" Silk asked.
"Maybe, but always charging head-on lacks finesse. Gotta use your head sometimes. Though, I'm not using it much here."
"That sounds like a jab at Luffy."
"My bad. But Luffy's recklessness is a weapon in its own right."
They chatted while running, still relaxed.
Mohji, frustrated by his inability to catch them, was losing composure—a sign their strategy worked. His panicked expression suggested clouded judgment.
"Also, that explosion used up my paper. Gotta conserve or I'm out of weapons," Kiri added.
"Where do you even hide all that paper?" Silk asked.
"Custom holster under my clothes."
"When did you make that?"
"Years ago, prepped for combat."
"Huh… I need to think of something, too."
Kiri spotted a narrow alley ahead.
"Stop, you brats!" Mohji shouted.
"Silk, right," Kiri said.
"Got it."
They darted into the alley, vanishing from Mohji's sight.
No hesitation. To win, he had to pursue.
"Richie, right! Don't let them escape!" Mohji ordered.
Richie's powerful legs shifted, charging into the alley.
As Richie leaped, Mohji saw Kiri crouching near the entrance, too low to be caught mid-jump. He clicked his tongue.
Worse, Kiri swung his arm, unleashing a swarm of paper.
The fluttering mass blinded them, the world turning white. Mohji and Richie struggled. Richie landed shakily but stayed upright, finding solid ground.
As the paper settled, vision clearing, Silk lunged at Mohji from the front.
"What!?" he gasped.
She'd been waiting, predicting their landing.
Her sudden appearance froze him. In that split second, she closed in, striking his stomach with her sheathed sword, knocking him off Richie with the force of her leap. Though not exceptionally strong, her momentum amplified the blow.
Mohji crashed to the ground, eyes shut in pain.
Silk raised her sword for a follow-up. Mohji opened his eyes, seeing her.
"Eek!?" he yelped.
"Sorry," she said.
Her sword swung down, striking his face with the sheath. The blow knocked him out, sprawling limply.
One down. Only Richie remained. But a lion wouldn't fall to a single strike like Mohji.
Richie, spotting them, growled, timing its attack.
As Silk debated drawing her sword, Kiri called from behind, "Silk, over here."
She ran toward him without hesitation. Richie charged.
A fleeting skirmish in the tight alley.
Caught, they'd die. Catch up, they'd win. A silent, fierce clash.
Silk reached the main street first. Kiri, seeing her, manipulated his paper.
Used sheets and fresh ones filled the alley, forming a massive fist that rocketed toward Richie.
Even a kingly lion couldn't help but cower at the colossal threat.
Perhaps recalling Kiri's earlier attack, Richie froze, eyes wide, as the thunderous fist struck. Blown back, it tumbled out the alley's far end, rolling unconscious across the street.
The fight ended effortlessly.
Kiri had claimed low paper reserves, but this blow suggested otherwise. Silk was stunned.
He could've won alone.
Slumped from her dash, she hung her head, feeling useless. Her resolve to contribute seemed like wasted effort.
Noticing, Kiri gathered his paper, saying, "Using the environment is a key tactic. Lions outmatch humans in strength, with deadly fangs and claws, but their size limits agility. In tight spaces, we restrict them, gaining the advantage with our maneuverability."
Silk looked up.
"Was this to teach me that?" she asked.
"You seemed troubled. Strength isn't everything. Staying calm and thinking in battle is how you grow."
With all paper collected, Mohji lay unconscious in the alley, no sign of stirring.
Relieved, Kiri faced Silk. "Even Luffy and Zoro think more than you'd expect. Though, they often act on reflex."
"I guess… I've been down lately," she admitted.
"You're overthinking. It's not that serious."
Kiri offered his hand, helping her up. Her expression remained dim.
She was too earnest, her desire to save townsfolk included. While embracing piracy, her roots as a townsperson lingered, unlike Kiri's pirate past, Luffy's lifelong dream, or Zoro's bounty-hunting days.
"Keep at it. The journey's long, so take it easy," Kiri said.
"Right. No more moping. I'll train instead."
"Fine, but don't become Zoro. He's either sleeping or training lately."
"Haha, don't worry. I'll do my job, too."
Leaving Mohji and Richie behind—whether forgotten or left for townsfolk—they resumed casual chatter, retracing their steps to rejoin Luffy.
They'd run far, so they headed back.
Not far from their initial clash, but out of sight from Luffy, Zoro and Cabaji's duel raged.
Wielding three swords—two in hand, one in mouth—Zoro's triple-sword style dominated.
Cabaji, fighting atop his unicycle, was agile but not necessarily stronger for it. His balance and acrobatic weapons didn't give him an edge against Zoro.
Swordsmanship was what mattered here.
Zoro's powerful, precise swordplay outshone Cabaji's unremarkable style.
Cabaji's acrobatics were top-tier, but ineffective if they didn't land. Forced into a direct sword clash, he was at a disadvantage.
His confidence eroded steadily, his face betraying it.
"Acrobatics: Fire-Breathing Old Man!" Cabaji shouted.
"Whoa!?" Zoro flinched.
Mid-close-quarters, Cabaji spewed fire from his mouth, a hidden trick. The surprise threw Zoro off-balance, staggering.
No direct hit, no damage.
But the opening was there. Cabaji's eyes gleamed, thrusting sharply.
"Got you!"
He aimed for Zoro's side, too fast for most to dodge. Yet, Zoro's eyes flashed under his bandana, parrying with greater speed.
The clash rang loudly, Cabaji's stance faltering.
Sensing danger, Cabaji braced, but Zoro didn't slash his exposed back. Instead, he kicked the unicycle, sending it flying. Cabaji tumbled, keeping his sword but hitting the ground.
Zoro loomed over him, not attacking, even lowering his guard, waiting.
"Get up. We're not done," Zoro said.
"Are you mocking me? Why didn't you strike?" Cabaji demanded.
"Just get up. Don't keep me waiting."
Gritting his teeth, Cabaji stood, sword ready.
"You'll regret sparing me… Acrobatics: Steamy Murder Mystery!"
Spinning his sword rapidly, he scraped the ground, raising a dust cloud, obscuring vision.
Impressive for conjuring dust from nothing. True acrobatics.
Zoro, unfazed, stood still, as if waiting.
Seconds later, Cabaji struck from behind, sword raised high, aiming to cleave Zoro's head with full force.
In that split second, their eyes met.
Before Cabaji's blade fell, Zoro's fist slammed into his stomach.
Blown back by the punch, Cabaji rolled across the ground, the gap widening. Stunned by the unexpected pain, he froze.
The dust cleared. Both unharmed, but the damage gap was stark.
Cabaji, physically and mentally drained, showed it. Zoro stood tall, unflinched, exuding dominance. The contrast was clear.
"Get up," Zoro said.
"Guh…!? A swordsman, punching!?" Cabaji coughed.
"Details. Don't care. Stand."
Shaking, Cabaji rose, unsteady.
Zoro's strength was beyond expectation. Cabaji had underestimated him, leading to this one-sided fight. Oddly, Zoro hadn't used his blades to cut, despite chances. He'd kicked the unicycle, punched, never slashing.
Was he being mocked, or lacked the nerve to cut?
Either way, Cabaji's pride stung.
He was losing, and that was intolerable. Gripping his sword tighter, he glared, but Zoro's intensity didn't waver.
Their sharp gazes clashed, Cabaji risking being overwhelmed.
Raising his sword, he faltered, unsure how to attack.
"That all a 'real pirate' has?" Zoro taunted.
"What…!?" Cabaji snapped.
"Thought I'd found a worthy swordsman, but you're nothing. Acrobatics or whatever, take your playtime elsewhere. I want stronger foes."
Zoro's bored tone enraged Cabaji. Blood rushing to his head, he charged recklessly, abandoning acrobatics, swinging wildly.
Zoro watched calmly, readying his three swords.
"Keep talking!" Cabaji roared.
Judging the perfect moment, Zoro stepped forward.
"Want to see real swordsmanship? Fine!" Zoro declared.
"Oni Giri!"
His blades flashed, striking true.
They crossed paths.
Zoro stood unscathed. Cabaji bore three deep cuts.
Blown back by the force, Cabaji realized he was airborne, blood spraying, pain hitting late.
Crashing to the ground, he muttered before blacking out, "Guh…!? Beaten… by a mere rookie…!?"
"Sorry, you're not worth my time. Sleep it off."
Cabaji was out, but alive. Zoro had held back, ensuring non-lethal cuts. Left there, he'd pose no threat.
Sheathing his swords, Zoro untied his bandana, wrapping it around his arm.
He looked dissatisfied. He'd expected more, but this was no challenge.
A high-bounty captain's officer, yet unfulfilling. He'd rather spar with Kiri.
"What a waste of time. Nowhere near enough," he grumbled.
Victory gained, but unsatisfied, he never grew complacent, always seeking greater strength.
Looking around, he walked to rejoin his crew.
Luckily, he wasn't far from Luffy's spot.
If he didn't get lost, he'd reach them fastest.
"Guess I'll head back. From here, it's… right," he decided.
Sadly, despite his strength, Zoro's sense of direction was abysmal. Unclear on his location and unaccustomed to planning, he walked off casually, heading the wrong way.
He didn't consider he'd get lost.
Later, his crew would search for their wayward swordsman, unaware he'd cause trouble. Despite his calm post-victory stride, he wouldn't reach his destination.
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