**Chapter 18: The Strongest Swordsman's Shadow**
Four days had passed at the Baratie. For Luffy and his crew, it was a welcome respite filled with Sanji's culinary masterpieces. For Sanji himself, it was a period of intense internal conflict. To truly leave the floating restaurant and join the Straw Hat Adventure Group, he had to pass a final, unspoken test—not just from Zeff, but from his own conscience. He had to be sure he was leaving his home and father-figure for a dream worthy of the sacrifice.
The peaceful interlude was shattered when the doors burst open. Gin staggered in, half-carrying, half-dragging a massive, emaciated figure. A hush fell over the dining room.
Gasps of recognition and fear followed. The man leaning on Gin was none other than Don Krieg, the self-proclaimed "Strongest Pirate in the East Blue," a name that brought nightmares to civilians and Marines alike.
Krieg's voice was a weak rasp, a stark contrast to his usual bluster. "I… haven't eaten in days. I'm not here for trouble. Just… fried rice. I have money this time. I'll pay." He held up a limp pouch of Berries.
The restaurant's patrons scrambled to leave, chairs scraping loudly against the floor. Krieg's reputation preceded him: a pirate known for ruthless betrayal, attacking under false flags, and a bottomless capacity for cruelty. Trusting him was suicide.
The chefs formed a wall, blocking Sanji's path. "Don't do it, Sanji! He'll turn on us the second he's strong enough!" Patty yelled.
But Krieg did something no one expected. He fell to his knees, his massive frame shaking. "I swear… I'll leave as soon as I've eaten. No trouble."
Sanji watched, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His philosophy, inherited from Zeff, warred with common sense. "I'm a chef," he stated, his voice cutting through the tension. "My job is to feed the hungry. Their past isn't my ingredient."
Ignoring the protests, he walked into the kitchen and emerged with a plate of steaming seafood fried rice. He placed it before Krieg and stepped back, waiting.
The moment Krieg finished the last grain, the transformation was instantaneous. Weakness vanished, replaced by familiar, swaggering malice. He surged to his feet, backhanding Sanji to the ground.
"Your ship… it'll do nicely," Krieg snarled, his voice regaining its oily confidence. "I have a hundred wounded, starving men on my vessel. You will prepare one hundred meals and barrels of fresh water. Do it, and maybe I'll let you scum live."
Gin stared in horror. "Captain! No! This isn't what we agreed! This man showed us mercy! We can't!"
"SILENCE!" Krieg roared, striking Gin down. "I am the captain! You obey! Now, KILL THEM ALL!"
Gin, blood trickling from his lip, struggled to his feet. He positioned himself between Krieg and the restaurant staff, his body trembling but his resolve ironclad. "I won't let you! I'd rather die than betray my conscience!"
The standoff was pathetic and brutal. Luffy, who had been watching with a bored expression, finally had enough. The pettiness, the betrayal—it was a waste of time.
"Zoro," Luffy said, his voice flat. "Cut him down."
Krieg laughed, a hollow, metallic sound from within his ornate, golden armor. "Hah! You think you can? This is Wootz steel! Impenetrable! Invincible!"
Zoro didn't even glance at Luffy. His disgust was palpable. "A weakling who preys on his own crew," he muttered with utter contempt. He didn't reach for Wado Ichimonji. Instead, he snatched a common kitchen cleaver from a nearby table. "You're not worth my sword's edge."
With a casual, almost dismissive flick of his wrist, Zoro unleashed a **Flying Slash**. It wasn't the massive wave that had parted the sea at Shells Town, but a razor-thin, concentrated arc of pure cutting intent.
It *shrieked* through the air.
Krieg's eyes widened in abject terror as the slash connected. There was no loud bang, just the clean, sickening sound of superheated metal being sheared apart. His prized Wootz steel armor split open like a tin can, the force of the blow hurling him backward through the restaurant's wall and out onto the deck. A deep, grievous wound bloomed across his chest.
He lay gasping in a heap of shattered armor and his own pride, unable to comprehend the power that had so effortlessly dismantled him. This feeling… it was horribly familiar. It reminded him of the day his entire fleet was annihilated by a single, unstoppable man.
"P-please…" Gin cried, rushing forward and throwing himself into a deep bow before Zoro. "Spare his life! I beg you!" His loyalty, even now, was a tragic, beautiful thing.
And Krieg, from the ground, answered that loyalty with a final, pathetic betrayal. With his last ounce of strength, he raised a hidden pistol, aiming it at Gin's back. "You… sentimental… fool…"
*CRACK.*
The shot never came. A well-aimed pellet from Usopp's slingshot struck Krieg's wrist, shattering the bones and sending the pistol skittering away.
Krieg screamed, his body finally giving out.
Gin stared, the last vestiges of his devotion crumbling into ash. Tears of pain and disillusionment streamed down his face. "Why…? Krieg… Why? I thought… I thought you could change…" His voice broke. "I finally see it. This is why you failed. This is why the Grand Line spat you out. You trust no one. You deserve no one's trust! The crew that believed in you… you probably destroyed them yourself with your paranoia!" He stood tall, his voice firming with finality. "Don Krieg… our debt is settled. We are done."
Zoro stepped toward the broken warlord, his intent clear.
"Why…?" Krieg coughed, blood flecking his lips. "Why does a monster like you… exist in the East Blue…? It's not… fair…"
"A monster?" Zoro's frown deepened. "You don't know the meaning of the word."
"Hah… you… you're just like him…" Krieg gasped, his eyes glazing over as he remembered a sword that could cut the very horizon. "A terrible… real monster…" With that, the so-called "Strongest" pirate in the East Blue died, not in a glorious battle, but broken and alone on a restaurant deck.
The silence that followed was heavy. But it was short-lived.
A new pressure descended, cold and absolute. It was not a sound, but a stillness that made the air itself feel thick. From the veil of sea fog that often shrouded the restaurant, a small, coffin-like vessel emerged. Seated calmly upon it was a single man.
He was tall and lean, with piercing, hawk-like eyes that seemed to see everything and value nothing. A colossal,十字-shaped black blade was strapped to his back. He moved with an economy of motion that spoke of immeasurable power held perfectly in check.
The patrons and chefs who had remained froze. Some simply fainted, their minds unable to process the sheer, overwhelming aura of the man. The world seemed to hold its breath.
Zoro's hand went instantly to the hilt of Wado Ichimonji. His entire body thrummed with a tension it had never known. He recognized this presence. This was the pinnacle. This was the end of the path he had sworn to walk.
The World's Greatest Swordsman, **Dracule "Hawk-Eyes" Mihawk**, had arrived.