After leaving the cave, Yoriichi Tsugikuni dragged two massive tiger legs down the slope. He had no idea of their exact weight, but judging by their size, he probably wouldn't need to worry about food for quite some time—provided it wasn't spoiled.
To avoid the smell of fresh blood attracting Hunters, he didn't carry the legs straight to the cave. Instead, he left them at the foot of the mountain, a safe distance away.
Still, caution prevailed. Yoriichi roasted a small piece of meat first. Though the bird's behavior had hinted it was edible, he didn't want to take any chances.
No poison… good.
The taste, however, left much to be desired. Tough, blood-soaked, with a strong, fishy smell—it was hardly delicious. But to Yoriichi, it was a feast compared to the strange paste he had tried before.
Satisfied, he spent over an hour grilling several pounds of meat, filling his stomach halfway. Even without knowing the full anatomy of the tiger, he realized that several pounds would never truly sate him.
Instead of overeating, he built a simple smokehouse at the mountain's base. He cut dozens of pounds of meat and smoked it to preserve it. With the immediate food problem solved, he turned his attention to exploration.
But survival required more than food. Water was critical.
During his second Trip, Yoriichi, armed with his long knife, ventured deeper into the forest, avoiding the main path. He carefully studied the terrain, heading toward the island's lowest point.
"These trees… so tall."
"Without markers, it's easy to get lost."
The dense jungle threatened to swallow him whole, so Yoriichi marked his path by cutting down plants in his wake. Having lived life before, his mindset had grown sharper, younger.
…
"Gurgle… gurgle…"
After forty minutes of trekking, a stream appeared—a silver snake weaving through the mountains. Green grass lined its banks, and beyond, towering trees loomed, unlike anything he had seen before.
Yoriichi paused, scanning the area. With a swipe of his sword, he felled a tree thick enough to hug. Hollowing its core, he fashioned a crude vessel and dipped it into the stream.
"Hmm?!"
The water was tinged red. A faint, fishy odor rose.
As he observed, the crimson deepened as the stream flowed. Blood. The smell was unmistakable.
"This… what happened here?!"
Frowning, he followed the stream upstream. To purify it, he needed to locate the source. Once removed, the water could run clean in less than an hour.
After an Uncertain trek, the trees parted. Yoriichi gasped.
Upstream, a wide plain stretched out—littered with corpses by the hundreds. Blood ran thickly into the river, mingling with dirt and debris. The battlefield was a grisly canvas of flesh and violence.
Near the plain lay a small town in ruins, walls crumbling, smoke rising from multiple points. Death and silence reigned.
Among the carnage, Yoriichi noticed white cloaks stained with blood, each bearing two bold, black characters: Justice.
"Marines…?"
On the second day in this new world, he witnessed its cruelty firsthand. Judging by clothing and direction, the battlefield had two sides: Marines and armed civilians, and a group of pirates wielding various weapons.
Scanning the battlefield, Yoriichi noted far fewer pirate bodies than Marines, and strangely, no women or children among the civilians.
Did the pirates win? Were the women and children taken—or hidden?
He moved cautiously toward the ruined town. Homes lay in rubble; streets were blocked by stone-laden carts. Blood painted the white stone sidewalk crimson. Entering one house, he found overturned furniture, a Tousled living room, and a bedroom soaked in the stench of blood.
A woman's body lay on the bed. With a quiet sigh, Yoriichi covered her with a blanket and left.
"How tragic…"
Crossing the town, he remained silent, gripping his sword tightly. There were no ghosts here—but humans could be just as brutal.
At the edge of the town, a cliff overlooked the sea. The breeze carried away the lingering scent of blood.
Yoriichi examined his long sword. The matte-black blade reflected a blurred image of his face. At its base, the word destroy gleamed faintly. Inspiration struck.
"I think I know what I must do."
"I will bring a ray of light to this world."
"Black Blade—Dawn!"
Dust swirled around him, and a terrifying aura erupted, spreading outward. Waves crashing on the shore were repelled, swept back by an unseen force.
Far out at sea, a dog-headed warship raced toward Longyin Island. A middle-aged man in a black suit, a thick beard framing his face, stood at the bow. His Justice cloak fluttered in the wind.
"Buzz!"
A strange current surged. The man's eyes widened, then a grin spread across his face.
"Heroic Haki! To appear in the East China Sea again…"
The E-23 unit had lost contact. Could it be… that figure again?
He laughed. "You dare challenge the Marines? I will never forgive you!"
A subordinate approached, saluting smartly. "Vice-Admiral Garp, an unusual current has appeared. Should we change course?"
Garp smiled, turning slightly. "Do not worry. Maintain course. The current will settle soon."
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(End of Chapter)