Click.
As Gawain ended the call, his gaze shifted toward the distant sea.
A thick plume of smoke rolled across the horizon, completely shrouding his vision. Only the approaching roar of an engine grew steadily louder.
The impact of a Logia Devil Fruit user on the environment was on full display—far beyond anything Gawain had experienced before.
His Observation Haki had only just awakened, still raw and untamed, and he couldn't yet apply it effectively in real combat.
But even without mastering it, his instincts screamed. He could feel it—the ferocious presence hidden within the smoke. Like a predator stalking through a storm.
In his grip, Seikō Masamune trembled with excitement. Clearly, his last opponent, Krieg, hadn't been enough to satisfy the blade. But the one approaching now? This one might.
There was no need for Haki to sense it.
Gawain could already tell—the incoming foe was the same rank as him. A fellow Bronze-level combatant in the East Blue.
"He's here," Gawain muttered.
His eyes sharpened just as a tall figure burst from the white smoke, brandishing a weapon—Jitte (*Seven Shaku Ten Hand)
There was no mistGing him.
Smoker.
Using the thrust of smoke behind him, Smoker launched himself forward with explosive speed—so fast he nearly blurred from sight. The elongated, reinforced Jitte surged ahead, aiming straight for Gawain's heart.
It was a lethal blow from the start. No probing. No mercy.
This man had absolute confidence in his strength.
"What an arrogant bastard."
Gawain's lips curled into a faint smirk. Battle-lust welled up in his chest. His grip tightened on his sword, veins bulging along his hand as the pressure surged.
Smoker wasn't just the strongest opponent Gawain had faced so far—even without factoring in his near-invincible Logia ability, the man had honed himself under the legendary Zephyr at Navy HQ.
In the manga, Smoker had been humbled many times—but that was in the New World, a battlefield of monsters. This was the East Blue.
"Now this… this is the strength worthy of the title White Hunter."
Gawain admired it—just for a moment. Then, with the elegance of a serpent, his blade snapped forward and deflected the Jitte.
Zzzt!
Steel screeched against steel, sparks dancing in the air between them.
Their eyes locked.
Smoker's gaze was solemn. In that instant, he understood something both surprising and deeply troubling:
This man—Gawain—was not like the other pirates in the East Blue. He was on a completely different level.
Smoker had struck first, with overwhelming momentum… and yet Gawain had nullified it with ease.
Fighters of this caliber—no, monsters like this—weren't supposed to appear here.
"Why is someone like you in the East Blue?!"
Gawain gave a faint, almost amused reply.
"Didn't a monster like Roger show up here once?"
"…Roger was a special case. He wasn't like the rest."
Smoker's tone cooled. He no longer had any interest in banter. His attack had failed. His Jitte whirled again, now slashing sideways like a cleaver.
Gawain dodged with a swift sidestep. But Smoker pressed in, the Jitte weapon dancing wildly in his grip. Black shadows filled the sky—like a rainstorm made of iron—bearing down on Gawain from all sides.
The Jitte had been designed to counter swords. And the one Smoker wielded had been customized for a Logia user like him.
Each tip was inlaid with seastone—natural enemy of Devil Fruit users—and strong enough to withstand strikes from even famous blades.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The floor beneath them shattered as the onslaught rained down.
But Gawain's expression remained unchanged. Though under heavy pressure, he felt something inside him stir—his instincts sharpening, his body heating up with excitement.
Smoker wasn't like Krieg. This was an opponent worth drawing his blade for.
"COME!"
Gawain shouted, and suddenly the tempo changed.
Smoker's barrage halted—because the sword in Gawain's hand had begun to move faster. Faster than before. Fast enough to intercept every strike mid-air.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
They clashed again and again, blades and steel ringing like thunder.
At this speed, there was no room for thought. No hesitation. Hesitation was death.
Only instinct.
Only will.
Only the burning desire to win could seize the opening in this whirlwind of steel.
Clang!
Each impact rattled Smoker's arms. Doubt began to seep in.
What's going on?!
He's faster... At least 30% faster than at the start!
The tide had turned.
Swish!
A burst of wind followed Gawain's slash, the blade of Seikō Masamune nearly bisecting Smoker's face. But there was no blood—only swirling white smoke.
The wound sealed instantly.
"…As expected. That Logia intangibility is a pain."
Gawain clicked his tongue. Though he landed clean hits, the strikes passed harmlessly through Smoker's elemental body. Again and again.
That was the terrifying thing about Logia users.
Their ability to completely avoid physical harm without Haki made them nearly untouchable. In terms of sheer defense, they had the highest floor among all Devil Fruit types.
Without Armament Haki, there was no real way to hurt Smoker.
Gawain's expression darkened.
This wasn't just an annoying power—it was demoralizing. An ability that said: "You can't hit me, but I can hit you—and only I can win."
After this fight, learning Armament Haki had to become a top priority.
"…Looks like you understand how Logia powers work," Smoker said coldly. "Without Haki, you can't touch me. Even if your swordsmanship is superior—it won't matter."
But deep down, Smoker was rattled.
He'd trained under Zephyr. He wasn't from the East Blue. His battlefield should've been the Grand Line… or the New World.
Yet here he was—forced to rely on his Devil Fruit just to keep up?!
If his old comrades, like Tina, found out… they'd hang him by his boots.
"You're too dangerous. I can't let you live!"
Smoker's eyes gleamed with killing intent.
"White Smoke Launcher!"
He drew deep on his cigar and activated the power of the Smoke-Smoke Fruit.
Thick smoke surged out in all directions, condensing into twisting white tendrils like snakes—lunging at Gawain.
"White Snake!"
Gawain leapt back. In a flash, his sword swept the air, unleashing a silver arc of sword energy that tore through the mist like a gale, dispelling every trace of smoke in an instant.
But without Haki, the smoke was still just that—smoke. Lethal in theory, but in execution? Too fragile.
By the time the white haze cleared, Gawain's instincts screamed again.
Smoker was gone.
He looked up sharply—just in time to see the tip of the Jitte growing larger in his vision.
"Got you!" Smoker shouted from above.
Midair, his mouth curved in triumph.
Logia smoke was weak in terms of damage. But in a battlefield where Observation Haki wasn't common?
It made for the perfect feint.
"Don't be a pirate in your next life."