"Eh?"
"Even villains can join?"
Robin froze, unable to read Don's intentions anymore.
Not long ago, he had discussed with her the idea of founding a Hunter Association—drafting countless regulations and principles—though all were eventually dismissed.
Back then, Robin had thought Don wanted to establish a proper, well-disciplined organization.
One that could be regulated, a lawful and legitimate body.
But hearing his words now, that didn't seem to be the case.
"When something grows large enough," Don said evenly, "no matter how strict the rules are, they eventually lose their power. No one can guarantee what kind of people will join—or what they'll do."
Of course, he understood Robin's doubts.
But that was the reality of the world.
Take the World Government or the Marines, for instance—when an organization grows too vast, people within it develop their own desires, ambitions, and schemes.
Rather than trying to control it all, it was better to create a symbol.
Just like the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger—who, at the moment of his death, declared something that ignited the dreams of countless pirates.
Whatever that "One Piece" truly was, his words alone drove a generation to chase after it.
And Don intended to become such a symbol himself.
The idea of what the Hunter Association would be had already begun to take shape in his mind.
It would be an organization defined by inclusiveness—one capable of embracing all kinds of people.
Issho, for instance, was someone who couldn't stand the ugliness of the world. He would act to change it with his own hands.
"So then—everyone, keep your eyes on me."
That hazy concept finally solidified in his thoughts.
Don's brow relaxed, and a clear light glimmered in his eyes.
He finally understood what he wanted to do.
Robin sensed a change in him—but couldn't quite tell what it was.
[Conqueror's Haki (The Will to Influence the World) – Beginner]
On Don's data panel, the description of his Conqueror's Haki quietly shifted.
He didn't bother checking the panel, though.
Instead, he released his full Observation Haki—spreading it across all of Rainbase, expanding its reach further and further.
Beyond the city, in the desert where two figures clashed, his awareness enveloped them as well.
Boom!
A battered Crocodile stirred the sand around him.
Suddenly, immense gravity crushed down from above.
The swirling sands he'd stirred fell heavily under that pressure, collapsing the ground beneath him.
What kind of monster was this?
Gritting his teeth against the crushing force, Crocodile stared at the blind man holding a sheathed blade.
He knew Don was strong—the newspapers had made that much clear.
But this blind swordsman?
Crocodile was certain he had never heard of such a man before.
Yet no one this powerful could possibly be an unknown.
"You're not my opponent," said Issho calmly.
If this had been before his duel with Don, Issho might have struck hard—perhaps killed or crippled him outright.
But now, Don's words still lingered in his mind.
Besides, after crossing blades with Don, fighting Crocodile felt almost effortless.
So it wasn't that his power was lacking—it was just that Don's strength had been on another level entirely.
"Corrosion Cycle!"
Kneeling, Crocodile slammed one hand against the ground, unleashing his fruit's power in a massive wave.
The desert surged outward, swallowing everything in its path.
"Super Gravity Blade!"
Seeing that Crocodile still resisted, Issho reversed his grip on his sword and held it before him.
A tremendous gravitational field exploded from his body, pulling even himself slightly into the sinking sands.
It was the same technique he'd used against Don—though now on a smaller scale, for conserving strength.
Boom!
The sands within a hundred-meter radius caved violently downward.
Crocodile, pinned under the crushing weight, was forced into the ground—and his body collapsed under the pressure.
"This won't work on me!"
Issho sensed his opponent turning into sand, and shook his head.
Sand wasn't flame—his gravity could affect even Don's fire, so a material body like sand had no chance.
Boom!
The desert cratered from the force.
Crocodile lay sprawled at the bottom, eyes dull, staring up at the sky.
This was the worst defeat he'd suffered since losing to Whitebeard.
He hadn't even been able to fight back.
A monster—this man was an utter monster.
Issho sheathed his blade and turned toward Rainbase.
The fight was over.
And that was the most mercy he could offer.
Long after Issho had gone, Crocodile finally struggled out of the pit.
His injuries were severe, his expression unreadable.
He had thought the gap between himself and Don wasn't too wide
but Don hadn't even lifted a hand, and he'd already lost to the blind man beside him.
What kind of terrifying people was Don surrounding himself with?
Wait…
Dragging his heavy steps back toward Rainbase, Crocodile pondered something.
Could it be… Don had only just met this man?
In his casino?
A dazed look flickered in his eyes.
Inside the Rain Dinners casino.
Having witnessed the outcome, Don withdrew his attention.
Everything had gone as expected.
Crocodile was powerful—especially in the desert—but against Issho, he was outmatched.
Or rather, Issho's power naturally restrained his.
Even without direct contact, their clash of fruits alone had decided the victor.
Crocodile's sand couldn't escape gravity's pull.
To fight Issho, one needed a body strong enough to withstand that pressure.
Without that, there was no room to resist at all.
Don mulled over Issho's nature.
Now that the fight was settled, he had to persuade him—but Issho wasn't a rigid man.
If anything, he was simple at heart:
kind to the good, merciless to the wicked, and indifferent to status or rank.
He had blinded himself because he couldn't bear to witness the ugliness of the world.
Don stroked his chin, idly spinning a poker chip between his fingers.
Footsteps and the tap of a cane echoed outside.
Robin turned toward the doorway as Issho entered, making his way over to Don and sitting down at their old gambling table.
"Care for another round?"
Don raised a hand; the dice and cup slid smoothly into his grasp.
"Gladly," Issho replied without hesitation. He never refused a good game.
Don shook the cup lazily, pressing it down on the table.
"Just to be clear—you can't use Observation Haki."
"Old man never cheats at the table!" Issho said immediately.
"Quite the principle you've got."
Don grinned. "Then, guess the size—and after that, guess whether you win or lose."
Issho paused for a beat.
"What kind of gambling is that?"
END OF CHAPTER
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