The clash was electric, an indescribable force surging through the air.
Zoro gritted his teeth, shaking his head. His two swords caught Bogard's blade, and with a slight delay, the sword in his mouth slammed forward, pushing through the deadlock. He'd overpowered the parry—but Bogard stepped back, retracting his arm to absorb the impact.
A master's finesse. His movements bespoke a skill far beyond the ordinary.
Zoro hadn't won through brute strength; Bogard had chosen to retreat, shifting the fight's flow. Amid the relentless back-and-forth, his calm judgment was unnerving. Stronger than anyone Zoro had ever crossed blades with, a single lapse could spell death. Seeing Bogard step back, Zoro felt a flicker of hesitation.
He was being baited. The move was too deliberate to miss.
Danger loomed, but Zoro pressed forward. To overwhelm with sheer force—that was the essence of his swordsmanship. Trusting his blades, honed by relentless training, he wielded raw power to cleave through foes. That was his strength.
Swift, sharp, and forceful, he unleashed his attack. Bogard met each strike with precision.
"Raaagh!" Zoro roared.
Metal screamed in a relentless cascade. His ferocious assault blended elegance and brute strength, a singular style born of power and technique. The three-sword style, though new to Bogard, was undeniably worthy of its reputation.
But it was still East Blue's level.
Bogard, unflinching, parried every full-force blow with ease.
"Hraaah!" Zoro pressed, undeterred.
"A terrifying talent… so young, yet so formidable," Bogard murmured.
Wielding his sword with his right hand, Bogard retreated swiftly. Zoro's strikes were wild, too fierce to meet head-on without risk. His swordsmanship excelled in raw power, his charging force surpassing human limits.
If left unchecked, this man could reshape the pirate world. Bogard deflected over a dozen strikes in a fleeting moment, his mind racing. Though he diverted the force, each blow strained his arms. Minor now, that strain could become critical in a prolonged fight.
Years of training and countless battles honed Bogard's clarity. Zoro wasn't the only threat—others wielded strange abilities. He needed to end this quickly, conserving strength for what lay ahead.
No holding back. Not prolonging the fight with restraint, but crushing the enemy with full force.
Bogard's eyes sharpened, and he vanished. Zoro's sword sliced air, his eyes widening. The speed was invisible, but Zoro recalled it from Syrup Village.
Gone—no.
A strange pop sounded overhead. Not gone—just moving too fast to see. Zoro's instincts, razor-sharp against a superior foe, pinpointed Bogard's presence. Spinning, he caught sight of him—airborne, descending with his sword raised. How he'd moved so fast was unclear, but Bogard's speed outclassed his.
Their eyes met in time for Zoro to brace, channeling strength into his counter. Bogard, inwardly stunned, hid his surprise. He knew his speed was unmatched, his killing intent suppressed. Yet Zoro had tracked him.
Like a beast, his senses were uncanny.
Bogard thrust, a razor-sharp strike. Zoro parried with the sword in his mouth, unscathed, and swung his right-hand blade to counter.
Can't dodge this. Got him!
Seizing the chance, Zoro swung—then froze. Bogard's body twisted, kicking the air with a pop, slipping just beyond the blade's reach. The same technique.
Bogard landed, pulling back. A technique to move through the air—Devil Fruit or not? Doubt crept into Zoro's mind.
"Tch, what the hell? He dodged in midair," Zoro muttered.
"The higher you climb in the Navy, the more master this technique: Geppo, kicking the air to fly. No Devil Fruit—just a skill born of a honed body," Bogard explained, grounding himself.
His form vanished again. Not Geppo—another technique.
"Soru," Bogard intoned.
Invisible again. But Zoro had seen something like it—faster than Captain Kuro's stealth steps, closer to Shakushi's reckless speed, yet controlled.
Watching from afar hadn't been wasted. Though unseen, Zoro grasped its nature. Bogard's form reappeared at the moment of attack.
Zoro spun to his left-rear, spotting him. "What?!"
"Hn!" Bogard grunted, startled as Zoro's left sword blocked his strike.
Their blades locked, halting the exchange. Zoro grinned wickedly. "We're thinking the same thing—exploit the opening."
"You're sharper than I thought… but you don't seem too surprised," Bogard noted.
"Oh, I'm plenty shocked. First time seeing someone fly," Zoro said. "Not Soru's speed, though. I've seen a guy fluttering like paper."
Bogard's brow furrowed mid-clash. What had this man witnessed? Soru's blinding speed, Geppo's aerial feats—techniques unheard of in East Blue. Yet Zoro wasn't fazed. His confidence stemmed from experience, reading the psychology of exploiting weaknesses, seeing techniques like Kiri's paper flight. Once seen, they lost their shock.
Zoro shoved Bogard back, creating distance. He assessed calmly.
His stance and movements scream thrusting attacks. Combined with those movement techniques, that's his style. He's not at full strength yet. So—
Zoro lowered his stance. Bogard reacted, shifting to defense. Zoro charged, unleashing a brutal strike with all three swords.
"Oni Giri!" he roared.
"Ugh!" Bogard grunted, his expression darkening.
For that moment, Zoro abandoned finesse, hammering raw power into Bogard's single-handed guard. Fatigue would build in his arms—exactly the goal.
Zoro knew the gap in their skill. Victory was impossible.
So he struck Bogard's sword, passed him, and charged the Marine squad without looking back. The soldiers froze, stunned by his reckless move.
"Out of my way!" Zoro bellowed.
His overwhelming presence shook the battle-hardened Marines. One man charging alone was unthinkable, exposing an obvious gap. Zoro exploited it, slashing, kicking, and pummeling them like a brawler, not a swordsman.
Bogard, momentarily paralyzed, stared in disbelief. He'd underestimated Zoro, assuming his bounty hunter past meant predictability. But as a pirate, anything was possible. Yet Zoro's eyes hadn't lied—he was a swordsman of honor, meant for fair duels until a decisive end.
That was Zoro's true nature. Facing a stronger foe, he'd fight to grow, never resorting to cowardice. But as a pirate, his own desires came second.
He followed his captain's will, bending his principles for the crew's future. That's why he embraced Kiri's plan.
Zoro barreled through the squad, diving into an alley. He didn't stop, knowing pursuit was certain.
"Wait, Roronoa!" Bogard shouted.
As expected. Zoro emerged onto another street, bustling with civilians who hadn't fled, startled by his drawn swords.
He paused, waiting for Bogard to descend from above, five meters away.
"Why run? Why attack my men? I thought you weren't that kind of man," Bogard demanded.
"You don't know me, so don't decide who I am," Zoro shot back, pointing his sword with a cocky grin. "I've got a bone to pick with you Navy types. You're too full of yourselves."
Bogard's expression shifted, a spark of irritation. Zoro charged again.
His primary goal: survive. He and Luffy were the only ones acting solo, the riskiest roles. His sense of direction made surprises likely, but Kiri had vouched for it, joking it'd work in their favor. Zoro had grumbled but agreed.
Disrupt the enemy by running through the town—that was the plan. He clashed swords, then slipped past Bogard, sprinting again.
Fighting or fleeing? His actions baffled even Bogard, who gritted his teeth. "What's your game? What are you thinking?!"
"Wanna know? Chase me," Zoro taunted, ducking into another alley.
He wasn't choosing paths—just running where his eyes led. Getting lost was inevitable, but that was fine. Bogard was leaving his squad behind, a poor move against their crew's strategy. As long as Zoro didn't die, it was working.
He stopped in another street. Bogard caught up, descending with his sword aimed.
"No escape!" Bogard declared.
"Three-Sword Style—" Zoro readied, unwavering.
He showed no fear, prepared to counter. Spinning, he unleashed a fierce gust. "Tatsu Maki!"
A tornado met Bogard's charge, its slicing winds grazing him. Light scratches marred his clothes and cheek, but the core force missed, dissipated as he pierced the storm's eye.
Zoro shifted, parrying Bogard's next strike. The metal rang out, and he leapt back.
Bogard pressed the attack, his form otherworldly. A swordsman of extraordinary skill, his thrusts were like gunfire, slipping past Zoro's guard to pierce his left shoulder.
"Guh!" Zoro grunted.
Too fast—Soru-like, impossible to track. Bogard's withdrawal was just as swift, leaving a gaping wound bleeding heavily. No time to falter.
Gritting his teeth, Zoro swung through the pain. His resilience was his strength.
"Tch! Raaagh!" he roared.
"Such a savage blade. To endure this far—" Bogard began.
Zoro's onslaught was relentless, his swords a storm of fury. The street echoed with metal clangs, civilians fleeing or frozen in terror.
Countless strikes rained down, yet Bogard deflected every one unscathed. The Navy's elite, Grand Line caliber, showed no flaws beyond the earlier scratches.
Zoro felt the struggle but also a thrill. His goal was distant, the world's greatest swordsman far off. This hardship was what he craved.
Grinning fiercely, he unnerved Bogard mid-clash. "Hey, who's stronger—you or the world's greatest swordsman?"
"What?" Bogard faltered.
"That's who I'm gonna be," Zoro declared.
He slammed his swords forward, leaping back, then charged with momentum, wielding only two swords. "Taka Nami!"
A low, surging slash raced forward. Zoro slid past Bogard, circling behind. Bogard planted his sword in the ground, blocking the shockwave.
As the force dissipated, he spun, but Zoro's next attack was already coming. "Tora Gari!"
Three swords struck, their power abnormal, more bludgeoning than cutting. Bogard blocked just in time but was hurled into a house's wall, crashing through.
Zoro paused, exhaling heavily. Every move—attack, escape—demanded everything. The fatigue was unlike anything before. A moment's lapse could be fatal; he had to stay sharp.
But his pause lasted seconds. Sensing something, he raised his swords reflexively. A visible shockwave—not a mere gust, but a blade's slash—struck, sending him crashing through the opposite house's wall.
Bogard returned to the street first, composed. Inappropriately, he was enjoying this. "The world's greatest swordsman is beyond even me. That's why he holds the title."
Zoro rose, kicking rubble aside. His defense hadn't fully blocked the blow; shallow cuts marked his cheek and chest. The pain was minor, but the new technique impressed him. He stepped back into the street, calm.
They faced off, their mindsets shifted. Zoro sheathed the sword in his mouth, rolling his neck to reset.
"Good enough. Wouldn't be fun otherwise," he said.
"Surrender now. There's still time," Bogard urged.
"You think we're the type to roll over? Give it up," Zoro shot back, pointing his sword, his grin unwavering.
Bogard understood—his earlier unease was justified. This man was dangerous. His spirit, like a demon's, held untapped potential that could threaten the Navy.
"If I'd fall for that talk, I wouldn't be a pirate," Zoro said.
"Fair enough," Bogard conceded.
Zoro remembered the plan but figured if escape was impossible, he'd indulge a little. Standing still, he faced Bogard, a superior foe, with calm resolve.
"Gah! W-Why?!" Yosaku sputtered.
At the port, Yosaku and Johnny had retaken the Going Merry, only to be thrown overboard. Nami stood alone on the ship, ready to sail. This wasn't the plan. Why was she fleeing alone?
From the water, they demanded answers. Nami looked down, smiling coldly. "I told them from the start—I'm not joining, just working with them. They did good work, but facing Garp? No thanks."
"They trusted you!" Johnny shouted.
"Their fault for not knowing who I am. They got what they deserved," Nami snapped, her gaze icy, unlike her usual warmth.
As the Merry pulled away, Yosaku and Johnny could only watch, seething with regret, unable to help their crew. Nami waved, her smile mocking.
"Say hi to them for me. Bye!" she called.
"Come back, traitor!" Yosaku yelled.
"Apologize to the crew!" Johnny roared.
Ignoring them, Nami walked from the stern to the bow, gripping the railing and exhaling deeply.
Her smile held firm, but she spoke to herself, staring at the horizon. "This is it… It's fine. Back to how it's always been. I can do this alone. That's what I decided."
She murmured, convincing herself. Yet memories of their journey flooded her mind.
The first meeting in Orange Town—she'd planned to use Luffy, failed, but still stole treasure during their fight. They defeated Buggy, saved the town. Boodle and Chouchou's gratitude echoed in her ears. Pirates thanked? Unthinkable.
"If we meet again, will they invite me back?" she whispered. "No way. Not after this."
Warship Island came next. Rescuing Apis led to a grand adventure—her first sea battle, navigating a storm under her command. Victory, defeat, regret, and fear. Facing death rekindled her primal drive to survive. She didn't want to die. In the wrecked ship, she'd felt it deeply. The relief of survival came with guilt—staying with them felt selfish, frightening.
Tears welled as she recalled it, refusing to look back. The Merry drifted slowly from the island, her forced smile unwavering.
"Will I… see them again?" she murmured.
Syrup Village surfaced in her mind. They fought pirates, gained Usopp, and claimed the Going Merry. She hadn't fought, but that was strategy—stealing treasure for herself and the crew. Kiri had kept her out of combat for that purpose.
From five to six, her role in the crew had solidified. Too late to realize it.
The final memory struck hardest: Gold doesn't laugh. She'd known it—bills, coins, jewels, none smiled. Hoarding alone, she'd understood it long ago. Was this what she truly wanted? The piercing truth haunted her.
Woonan's final words echoed, unshakeable. Nami's tears fell, and she bowed her head. Her fists trembled, lips bitten, body curled as she fought the flood. "I just want to be free… Bellemere-san," she whispered.
She wept quietly, wrapped in painful silence. Alone, her suppressed emotions burst forth—loneliness, sorrow, an unfillable void.
Then, the cabin door opened silently. Someone approached, unnoticed, moving carefully. Only at the bow's staircase did a voice speak.
"Nami."
Her tears stopped instantly. Wiping her face, Nami drew a three-section staff from under her skirt, assembling it swiftly and turning, weapon raised. Silk stood there, sword drawn, expression serious, lips tight. Nami hadn't sensed her, rattled by the surprise.
"Silk… why are you—" Nami stammered.
"I noticed you acting strange. I was worried, so I followed," Silk said.
"You stalked me? That's not like you," Nami shot back.
"Nami, let's stop this. Keeping this up won't change anything," Silk pleaded.
Nami understood—her deception, stealing the ship, pointing weapons. But stopping now? Impossible. Suppressing her emotions, she glared. "Stop? Stop what? Stealing? Betraying you all?"
"Nami…" Silk's voice softened.
"Don't mock me. I decide my own path. Like Luffy, ignoring his grandfather to live his way. I've always done this—lied, betrayed, survived alone. It's the only way!" Nami snapped.
Silk's sad gaze stirred the emotions Nami had buried. She had to drive her away. But the Merry was too far from the island, and pushing Silk overboard—an ability user—meant drowning her. Nami had planned for this, yet couldn't bring herself to do it.
That hurt. It infuriated her.
She couldn't think of what to do. Her trembling hands betrayed her. If attacked, she'd be helpless. She'd always managed before, but now her emotions betrayed her, her chest burning, words failing.
"I—" Nami's voice broke, unable to continue.
Looking away, she sank into heavy silence. Silk spoke, unable to bear it. "I like you, Nami. Everyone does. We want you as our nakama."
"That's…" Nami faltered.
"Stop lying. I want to talk to the real Nami," Silk said.
A clatter—Silk's sword hit the deck. Unarmed, defenseless, she smiled softly at Nami. The gesture tore at Nami's heart, deepening her turmoil.
"You can talk when it's hard. Not just me—everyone will listen," Silk said.
Tears flowed again, and Nami's legs gave out. Collapsing, she dropped her staff, covering her face. She couldn't decide. The emotions she'd suppressed for eight years overwhelmed her, drowning her in confusion.
Silk approached, kneeling beside her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I don't know what to do anymore…!" Nami sobbed.
"It's okay. Together, we'll find a way," Silk reassured, hugging her tightly.
Nami cried like a child, her fears and burdens spilling out. She'd fought alone, tormented for so long. Silk wished she'd noticed sooner. Holding her close, she vowed not to let go.
There was still time to start over. Stroking Nami's head like a mother or sister, Silk felt they could finally become true nakama. They had much to discuss, but for now, words weren't needed. She'd stay until Nami was ready.
The ship lurched suddenly. Silk's expression shifted, and Nami snapped back to reality. Scanning the sea, they saw a massive form rise beside the Merry, a water spout heralding a colossal panda, rivaling a Sea King in size.
Silk's eyes widened, and Nami forgot her tears. The panda, its cute face belying its enormity, peered curiously at the ship.
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