Chapter 017: The Future World's Number One Male and Female Swordsmen! The Promise!
It had started to drizzle lightly at some point.
In the open wilderness on the outskirts of Shimotsuki Village, a neatly maintained grave stood on a small hillside.
The drizzle fell on the green grass of the wilderness and the daisies in front of the tombstone, filling the humid air with a solemn atmosphere.
Even breathing was filled with the scent of earth.
"Kuina's grave."
Koushirou had changed into a greyish-white robe. He stood desolately in front of the tombstone, looking down at the few black characters on it.
"Grave of Kuina."
Roger, holding a jug of strong liquor, maintained a rare seriousness and asked softly:
"How old was she?"
Shimotsuki Koushirou replied:
"Eleven years old."
Roger said no more, only drinking silently.
Koushirou smiled faintly, his face regaining its usual calm and gentleness.
He spoke again, as if talking to himself.
His voice, however, was incredibly gentle, as if afraid of waking the sleeping person.
"This child was strong-willed since she was young; she hated to lose."
"Back then, that brat Zoro came to the dojo to challenge us and got beaten up badly."
His tone gradually revealed a sense of nostalgia.
"That brat Zoro wasn't convinced either; he knelt down hoping I would teach him swordsmanship."
"I saw that his talent was decent, but his way of using the sword didn't quite fit the style of my Shimotsuki Clan, so I didn't plan on accepting him as my disciple."
"It was only after Kuina pleaded bitterly later that I accepted Zoro."
As Koushirou spoke, the smile at the corners of his mouth grew richer.
Like a pot of strong liquor sealed for years—warm, moist, and mellow.
"Those two little fellows sparred day and night, but you know, Zoro never won a single time."
Roger said softly:
"Truly a remarkable little girl..."
Koushirou nodded, smiling with immense pride.
"Yes, she... really worked hard."
Liu Feng was silent.
Because he clearly saw that although Koushirou was smiling, a line of tears spilled out from under his misty glasses.
This man seemed to have never cried in front of anyone else.
Even when Kuina passed away unexpectedly back then, he could only maintain a smile.
Because he wasn't just a father.
He was also the Master of the Isshin Dojo.
Zoro's teacher.
Koushirou took off his glasses.
In the drizzle, it was unclear whether he was crying or smiling.
"I believe Zoro will definitely inherit her last wish and become the world's greatest swordsman."
"Because Kuina believed so too."
He clenched his fists tightly.
Standing behind Koushirou, Liu Feng sighed, slowly took a step forward, and said in a deep voice:
"Let's begin. That future World's Greatest Swordsman needs a worthy rival."
Koushirou smiled and wiped the moisture from the corners of his eyes, nodding heavily.
...
...
The sea near Punk Hazard.
The Straw Hat Pirates.
On the deck of the Thousand Sunny.
A figure with green hair, shirtless, was sweating profusely while swinging a humongous barbell.
His chiseled muscles bulged piece by piece, filled with explosive power.
Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro, one of the Worst Generation, member of the Straw Hat Pirates.
The sun was blazing overhead.
But he ignored it, silently gritting his teeth and persisting.
"Hey, Mosshead, time to eat."
A figure wearing a suit walked out from the cabin, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.
"Black Leg" Sanji, the cook of the Straw Hat Pirates.
Zoro didn't turn his head. While swinging the barbell, he said:
"You guys eat first; I still have a thousand sword swings to practice."
Sanji frowned.
Normally, he wouldn't care too much about this damn Mosshead's life.
But ever since meeting that Marine woman again during the battle at Punk Hazard, this guy seemed a bit off.
"Enough! You're not training at all; you're killing yourself."
Sanji was a bit angry and shouted.
Zoro gritted his teeth and said:
"Damn cook, none of your business!"
"I'll go eat later naturally!!"
Sanji snorted coldly:
"Eat if you want, starve if you don't."
Then he walked into the cabin.
Under the sun, a figure persisted silently.
At a certain moment.
He suddenly stopped and put down the astonishingly heavy barbell.
Then he walked slowly to the railing and took down one of the three swords hanging there.
"Too similar..."
He murmured.
Subconsciously, he drew the sword.
The blade, the body, the pattern—all featureless.
But such a sword possessed a quality that no other famous sword could possess.
—The sword of the promise.
The wind blew.
Zoro suddenly tightened his grip on the sword.
He lowered his head, gritting his teeth.
His other hand covered his face tightly.
Between his fingers, tears spilled out.
Uncontrollable.
He choked with sobs:
"You don't understand, damn cook..."
"I promised her."
"I will become stronger for her share as well,"
"I will become so strong that my name echoes in heaven,"
"I will become the world's strongest swordsman,"
"We agreed on it..."
Tears and sweat fell onto the deck, drop after drop.
In the wind, the sound of clashing swords under the moonlight could no longer be heard.
Kuina, even if I become the World's Number One Swordsman, you are still the person I will never have the chance to defeat in this lifetime...