East Blue, Loguetown.
A sweltering afternoon so hot it stole one's breath.
The sea breeze felt as if boiled by the intense heat, beating against the streets of this town known as the place of beginnings and endings.
Amidst this oppressive heat, a tavern stood like a forgotten corner, particularly worn and silent.
As a figure pushed the door open, the door hinges groaned under the strain.
Giyu Tomioka—the Water Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps from another world—walked in and took a seat at the bar.
His black uniform underneath was already somewhat tattered, especially the right sleeve, which hung emptily.
Over it, he wore a haori with different patterns on each side. Though cleaned, traces of mending and stubborn dark stains remained visible.
His features were delicate yet stern, with long black hair tied back.
Most striking were his eyes—deep blue like pond water, still and cold, carrying a wariness that seemed out of place with his surroundings.
Behind the counter, a bartender whose face was etched with the marks of time slowly wiped a glass. He glanced up at the new customer.
"Bartender," Giyu's voice was steady, yet carried a flat, hardened tone. "I'd like to ask something."
He described a country filled with mountains, distinct seasons, featuring snowy peaks and hot springs.
The bartender paused his wiping, shaking his head slowly. "Never heard of it."
Another dead end.
Giyu had found himself in this place several days ago, not long after that horrific battle had ended.
It was the brutal final confrontation with Muzan Kibutsuji. He had lost many dear friends, and his own right arm remained on that battlefield. Yet, fortunately, the demon who had plagued humanity for a thousand years, Muzan, had finally perished in the sunlight.
The night before Giyu Tomioka arrived in this world, he had made a portion of Hagi-oki by himself. Though not yet perfect, he had planned to give it to Sanemi the next day when he woke up.
But when Giyu opened his eyes after sleep, he found himself on the shore of this completely unfamiliar place.
From initial caution and observation to questioning passersby, he learned this place was called Loguetown, located in the East Blue.
Yet, whether it was the famous Red-Light District or the Mugen Train, people here claimed to have never heard of them.
There wasn't even a trace of a demon's stench in the air. From initially suspecting this reality was caused by a Blood Demon Art, Giyu now thought:
Perhaps this is the afterlife, and this unfamiliar environment is just another trial for him.
The bartender set down the glass, lifting his eyelids to study Giyu carefully. Drawing on years of experience, he speculated, "Kid, judging by your look... you somewhat resemble a samurai. You're not from the East Blue, are you?"
"...Samurai?" Giyu caught the familiar term.
"I've heard there's a country on the Grand Line. That place doesn't welcome outsiders, not even the World Government can enter, but it's supposedly full of samurai like you," the bartender said, wiping another glass. "The place you're looking for might have clues there."
"...The Grand Line?" This term was the only new lead Giyu had heard in Loguetown.
The bartender chuckled lightly, a complex mix of awe and yearning flashing in his eyes.
"That is the ocean that encircles the world, a place where dreams and graves intertwine."
As he spoke, his gaze drifted toward a round table in the corner of the tavern. Giyu followed his line of sight.
Right in the center of that table, a pale skull was prominently displayed, its hollow eye sockets staring directly at him.
"See that?" the owner pointed. "That guy was known as the 'Giant Killer' when he was alive. But do you know how he died?"
The owner paused, his tone flat yet carrying immense impact.
"Cut in two by Gol D. Roger. As easily as slicing through cheese. The sea you want to go to is where monsters like that are born."
While the owner behind the counter narrated, lines of text quietly appeared in Giyu's vision, locked onto the owner:
[Interpersonal Interaction Manual (Trial Version)]
[Target: Tavern Owner]
[Status: Reminiscing]
[Preferences: Talking about Roger]
[Suggestion: Continue Inquiring]
This interface had been following him like a shadow since he woke up several days ago.
He initially thought these texts were some kind of hallucination, but even after repeatedly focusing through breathing techniques, he couldn't interfere with them. He was forced to accept the existence of this manual.
Looking at the floating text - similar information had appeared beside other people these past few days. It seemed he could see others' emotional states and some other information.
Giyu looked at the [Continue Inquiring] suggestion and remained silent for a moment.
Over these past few days, the suggestions from this inexplicable manual sometimes worked, sometimes didn't.
But for Giyu, he still maintained a learning mindset to accept this manual that seemed beneficial for interpersonal interactions.
At this moment, Giyu couldn't think of any other suitable approach, so he accepted the suggestion and asked: "Where is this person now?"
When the owner heard Giyu's question, he fell into contemplation for a moment before replying lightly: "Him... he's no longer here..."
After speaking, he silently picked up two glasses from the table that still had a few drops of milk in them and began wiping them.
Seeing the owner's silence before him, Giyu also found himself at a loss for words.
...Ineffective suggestion.
Then Giyu remembered the Grand Line mentioned earlier and chose to break the silence, asking how to get there.
The owner looked up at Giyu, his tone becoming serious: "That place, having strength alone isn't enough. You need... well... many things, like luck."
Then he pulled a 100 Belly coin from his pocket and flicked it lightly with his thumb.
The coin spun rapidly in the air, tracing an arc while emitting a faint buzzing sound.
"Guess, heads or tails?" The owner's voice carried a hint of playfulness. He wanted to see what kind of reaction this stoic fellow would have.
Giyu didn't answer.
He just silently watched the spinning coin as if observing an object unrelated to himself, his eyes showing no fluctuation.
Ding————
The coin landed on the wooden counter, bounced a few times, and finally came to a complete stop.
The side facing up was the one printed with a skull emblem - heads.
Only then did Giyu speak calmly:
"Heads."
The owner was taken aback, looking at the coin, then at the samurai before him who didn't seem to be joking at all.
Then, he let out a booming laugh: "Hahahahaha! Interesting! You... are you serious?" After laughing his fill, he pointed toward the door and said, "Just before you, there was another interesting person here, a kid wearing a straw hat."
A flicker of nostalgia and admiration crossed the owner's eyes. "Though he seemed like a clueless fool, he had this... well... a light that made you believe in him."
"That guy just left, heading toward Execution Square. If you plan to go to the Grand Line, you could try teaming up with him. I believe he's the kind who'd make it through."
Samurai, the Grand Line, a closed-off country, straw hat—though the information was a bit jumbled, for Giyu, it was the only concrete lead he'd gotten in days.
Giyu stood up, pulled a few silver coins from his inner garment, and placed them on the table. "Thanks."
These were among the last coins he had left, but fortunately, silver coins were still accepted here.
He pushed open the tavern's wooden door and had only taken a few steps when a tall, imposing figure approached, almost blocking out all the light.
White short hair, a thick jacket with "Justice" written on the back draped over his shoulders, two cigars in his mouth, sharp eyes, and an aura of battle-hardened steel and authoritative dignity.
Giyu's steps didn't falter in the slightest. His body naturally shifted into a certain state, like calm waters hiding undercurrents.
The fingertips of his single hand rested lightly on the sword guard—a stance that allowed for both offense and defense, and was best suited for sudden situations.
His gaze swept calmly over the other person, taking in his build, stride, and the aura he exuded.
This was no ordinary individual, different from the soldiers he'd encountered on the streets earlier.
That was his most immediate judgment.
Smoker—Giyu had seen this figure in the newspapers distributed on the streets. He was the Marine captain assigned to oversee this town, and since his arrival, the public security had completely transformed for the better.
But Smoker's steps slowed slightly. His icy stare fixed on Giyu—the empty sleeve, the foreign haori weathered by hardship, the sword that was clearly no ordinary blade.
And most importantly, the calm yet unfathomable aura around this man, deep and immeasurable as the sea.
He had only seen such an aura on those who had truly clawed their way back from hell.
Their eyes met briefly—no sparks, but an invisible weight seemed to collide in the air.
Smoker let out a noncommittal grunt from his nose, breaking the silence first. His voice was low, carrying the authority of the Marines:
"Hmph, a new face." His gaze lingered for a moment on Giyu's missing arm. "And carrying some serious injuries... Loguetown is under my jurisdiction now. Suspicious types like you better behave and not go looking for trouble."
Giyu didn't respond to the warning, answering only in his flat, emotionless tone:
"I'm just someone asking for directions."
Smoker stared at him for two seconds, as if trying to find something in Giyu's expression, but ultimately just grunted again.
"Better be that way."
Without wasting any more time, Smoker strode past Giyu and pushed open the door to enter the tavern.
"I never thought anyone would still patronize your tavern these days, old man. Hahahahahahahaha."
"Watch your mouth. You, who wants to ruin this shop, should cut the crap."
Without turning his head, Giyu slowly lowered his fingertips from the sword guard.
He reaffirmed his direction—Execution Square—then stepped forward, merging into the sweltering air of Loguetown.