"Whoosh—!"
The fiery slash surged forward, not just a blade of fire but a roaring dragon, a tangible wave of scorching heat that sucked the air from the room.
Flames danced wildly in its wake, casting erratic shadows across the crumbling office.
Facing this overwhelming tide of pure heat, Mihawk's eyes burned with a mixture of intense delight and insatiable curiosity.
First, the fluid grace of water, then the explosive fury of fire—it was clear now that all these transformations were tied directly to Mike's bizarre breathing techniques.
Each specific breath summoned a different elemental power, each power perfectly fused into a devastating form of swordsmanship.
'Just how much more has this kid been hiding?' Mihawk wondered, a thrill running through him.
'And how many other possibilities does this "Breathing Style" hold?'
"Fascinating. Truly, truly fascinating!" Mihawk's low voice rumbled, a note of pure, unadulterated excitement in it.
He gripped his massive Black Blade tighter, the ancient steel feeling hot in his palm, as if the very flames of battle were burning within him.
"Come!"
With a primal shout, he channeled an immense force into his arm, swinging Yoru with the speed and power of a gale-force wind.
The Black Blade carved a devastating, crescent-moon arc through the superheated air.
A massive, emerald-green slash erupted from Yoru, roaring as if it intended to cleave the very world apart.
Its destructive momentum was absolute, meeting the fiery dragon slash head-on in a cataclysmic collision.
"BOOM—!"
The fiery slash and the black slash slammed into each other with an ear-splitting roar, their immense powers creating a localized hurricane of pressure.
Sparks, like miniature stars, scattered in every direction.
The residual force, an invisible wave of pure energy, hammered the surrounding walls, making the entire building tremble even more violently, groaning under the strain as if on the verge of total collapse.
The fiery dragon slash, for all its might, was utterly split apart by Mihawk's overwhelming force.
The flames dispersed into a shower of scattered embers, drifting slowly down through the dust-filled air like falling starlight.
"Exhilarating! Keep it coming, Mike!" Mihawk's voice cut through the ringing silence, his face alight with exhilaration.
"Hmph!" Mike narrowed his eyes, a bead of sweat tracing a path down his temple.
'Just one more strike...' he thought, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips.
'One more, and this decrepit branch office will be completely, gloriously demolished! Mission accomplished.'
He smoothly sheathed his sword with a soft shink.
His entire body instantly dropped into a low crouch, leaning forward like a coiled leopard ready to spring.
"Haa—" He took another deep breath, his breathing pattern abruptly shifting yet again.
This time, the air around him didn't just get hot or damp; it crackled.
Lightning began to flicker across his skin, tiny electric currents dancing and snapping around his body with a distinctive Zzzzt—.
The air filled with the sharp, metallic tang of ozone as Mike slowly adjusted his stance, spreading his front and back feet wide, digging them into the ruined floor.
He murmured softly, "Thunder Breathing, First Form: Thunderclap and Flash."
In an instant, the lightning intensified and surging.
Mike channeled every ounce of strength into one foot, exploding forward with unbelievable speed.
His entire body shot toward Mihawk like a bolt of pure lightning tearing through a storm-racked sky—so fast it seemed to split the very air itself, leaving a distorted trail in its wake.
The only sound in the air was a thunderous "BOOM—!" as he broke the sound barrier, followed by the overwhelming pressure of displaced air and the deafening crack of impact.
The thunderous roar echoed in all directions, shaking the sky as if the heavens themselves had been struck.
The blinding speed and the crackling lightning intertwined, hurtling straight toward Mihawk like a guided missile.
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
The moment Mihawk saw the lightning flash, he threw his head back and let out a booming laugh, his voice brimming with boundless excitement and exhilaration.
Just these three moves alone—the water, the fire, the lightning—had already made this unexpected trip to the East Blue worth every single second.
These unique techniques—whether it was the flowing, deceptive grace of "Water Surface Slash," the blazing, consuming fury of "Unknowing Fire," or the explosive, instantaneous speed of "Thunderclap and Flash"—each was utterly novel, unfathomable, and completely captivating.
The styles of these form were so unfamiliar, something he had never seen or heard of before.
But that didn't stop him from drawing immense inspiration from them!
'After all', he thought, a fresh surge of power coursing through him.
'I am the Greatest Swordsman in the World!'.
"Kid, you've impressed me," Mihawk's voice was thick with burgeoning fighting spirit.
He slowly rose to his full height, his body radiating an almost palpable aura of power.
Yoru felt perfectly balanced, an extension of his will.
His gaze sharpened, becoming as keen as an eagle's, every trace of his previously relaxed demeanor vanishing.
He had transformed into a true god of war in that instant, a force of nature.
"But now, I'm getting serious!"
"CLANG—!"
The Black Blade Yoru descended like a meteor, meeting Mike's sword once more in a blinding flash of steel.
The moment their blades connected, an immense, raw force erupted from the point of contact, sending shockwaves ripping outward like tidal waves, tearing apart everything in their path.
"BOOM—!"
A deafening, earth-shattering explosion ripped through the heart of Marine Branch 186, shaking the entire building with unimaginable violence.
Thick, acrid dust billowed rapidly, filling the air with the smell of pulverized concrete and splintered wood.
Then, with a terrifying, drawn-out groan, a massive section of the building began its slow, inevitable collapse.
It went down with a thunderous crash, sending fresh plumes of dust boiling into the sky.
Amidst the ruins, the screeching sound of grinding metal echoed like the wail of a dying beast, as if the entire branch itself was howling in its final roar.
****
Meanwhile, outside the branch, the plaza was packed with Marines from Branch 186.
These were soldiers who had been thoroughly 'enlightened' by a certain 'outstanding' officer over the past three years.
They had long since developed a habit of enjoying chaos without concern, showing absolutely no alarm at the series of explosions or the building's collapse.
Instead, they had gathered excitedly, chattering among themselves like an audience at a sporting event.
"Holy moly~ Did the Captain really start fighting with Mihawk for real?" one private exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement.
"Looks like it, doesn't it?" another chimed in, pointing a finger at the billowing dust cloud.
"Ah, the Captain wrecked the entire branch!"
"Uh, is the Captain gonna get in trouble for this?" a newer recruit asked, a hint of genuine worry in his voice.
An older, grizzled marine scoffed.
"Probably not. He's about to be transferred to HQ anyway. Who's gonna stop him?"
"..."
The new recruit decided not to argue with the seasoned logic of the Branch 186 Marines.
"Damn, how much of the budget is gonna get docked to fix the branch now?" someone else grumbled, though without much real concern.
"It's not your money, why are you panicking?" another soldier retorted, waving a dismissive hand.
"If something goes wrong, the higher-ups will take the responsibility. That's how it works."
"You... you've truly mastered the Captain's art of slacking off!" a voice boomed with mock admiration.
"Hmph, it's nothing worth mentioning," the other soldier replied, puffing out his chest.
"Hahaha, judging by the looks of it, this seems like a pretty even match!" a third marine observed, wiping dust from his uniform.
"Don't forget, Mihawk is one of the Seven Warlords, a legendary pirate who once dominated the Grand Line!" another reminded them, his voice full of awe.
"If the Captain can really hold his own against Mihawk like this..."
"Doesn't that mean the Captain strength... is actually kinda insane?"
"Yeah, I always thought the Captain and Mihawk became friends solely because of his silver tongue, tricking him into giving him wine."
"Don't be ridiculous! I knew long ago that the Captain wasn't as simple as he appears!" a burly Marine with a scar across his nose declared confidently.
"Oh, you knew, did you?" someone asked skeptically.
"Heh, you all know my family comes from a long line of swordsmiths, right?" the burly soldier whispered conspiratorially, lowering his voice.
"Last time, while the Captain was napping, I secretly touched his sword, that black one he always carries."
"And then?" a dozen voices urged, leaning in.
"Yeah, what happened then?"
"Then I took a week's sick leave," the soldier admitted, a shiver running down his spine.
"That sword... it's too vicious. It felt like... it wanted to devour me! Just think about it—when the Captain in a good mood, he swings that sword around like a stick, like it weighs nothing. How could he not be strong?"
"Seriously?"
"Dead serious. If I'm lying, I'll chop my own dick off!"
"Damn, so the Captain is that powerful?" The new recruit was utterly bewildered.
"But I still don't get it..." another soldier pondered aloud. "If the Captain is so strong, why is he usually so lazy?"
Just as the discussion was heating up, a new, relaxed voice cut through the air.
"Yo~"
A cluster of bright yellow light rapidly gathered in the center of the plaza, coalescing into a human figure beside the startled soldiers.
The figure materialized into a tall, lanky man wearing a distinctive yellow-and-white striped suit, a purple tie, and a dark green shirt.
His black hair was slightly curly, and a faint stubble framed his face, giving him an air of permanent nonchalance.
Most striking of all was the "Justice" cape billowing dramatically behind him, defying the lack of wind.
"Ad-Admiral Kizaru!"
The Marines of Branch 186 stared in open-mouthed shock, unable to hide their utter astonishment.
An Admiral of the Navy! Here?! Why would one of the highest-ranking officers in the entire World Government appear at their backwater branch?
Kizaru lazily scanned the rapidly crumbling branch building, tilting his head slightly, a relaxed smirk playing on his lips.
"Who's fighting who here, ne~? The branch is practically in ruins."
"Uh... reporting, Admiral Kizaru!" Jenkins, having rushed back, saluted stiffly, his voice cracking slightly.
"It's Captain Mike and Mihawk in the duel!"
"Captain Mike, huh~" Kizaru chuckled lightly, as if he'd expected that part.
"Wait... and Mihawk?" His expression shifted, shedding its usual laziness.
His eyes sharpened, a hint of true seriousness crossing his face.
"One of the Seven Warlords—'Hawk-Eyes' Dracule Mihawk?"
"Reporting, yes, sir!" Jenkins confirmed, bewildered by the Admiral's sudden shift in demeanor.
"..." Kizaru's brow arched slightly, then a knowing, almost mischievous smile spread across his lips.
He finally understood.
"Well then... things just got very interesting indeed."