SWISH.
Everyone here lived and died by the sea, so the situation needed no explanation.
Dom instantly dropped low and leaped forward, swift as a hunting hare. The sun‑wheel blade in his hand spun, casting a rainbow flash as he darted straight toward Zidall the Beheader.
Watching the attack unfold, the surrounding pirates did not move or step in to aid their officer.
CLANG!
Zidall dodged with fluid footwork, flicking his sword out in a blur of motion. In one smooth strike, he knocked Dom's weapon spinning from his grip to clatter onto the ground.
By the time Dom's feet touched earth, his opponent had already retreated several meters away.
The cloth covering Dom's face tore apart, revealing a fresh, bleeding cut across his cheek.
Dom's pupils shrank.
This was the first time he had been beaten back since becoming stronger!
Zidall drew his sword fully. As he moved his arm, the blade bent like a slender willow twig, its tip trembling constantly… weaving a dazzling trail of light and stars in the air.
His footwork was strange and agile, legs coiling like springs as he bounced in a rhythmic, mesmerizing pattern.
"Tsk‑tsk."
Zidall whistled, nodding in appreciation of Dom's attack. "Not bad at all! No wonder you managed to kill those useless fools out there!"
Dom stood up, his expression cold and hard.
He understood his opponent's strengths: exceptional mastery of the weapon, plus perfect coordination and flexibility.
In terms of reaction speed and movement, Zidall was no better or worse than him — they were the same type of powerful pirate.
But to Oboro, the techniques Zidall used were clearly not traditional swordsmanship… Having spent so much time in the world of Demon Slayer, Oboro recognized this instantly — it was fencing.
In that style of combat, reaction time, evasion, and striking speed were pushed to the absolute limit.
Dom's attention was fully fixed on Zidall. He had only just risen when a massive shadow descended over him.
Before he knew it, Mepon the Mincer stood behind him, towering and looking down. He raised a heavy, massive arm and smashed it downward with crushing force.
Dom rolled frantically aside. The ground where he had stood shattered into a crater, dust billowing outward.
"Let's start with you…"
Mepon's voice boomed.
"You brash young fools… Did you get separated from your crew after entering the Grand Line? Or did your ship sink and turn you into stray dogs? I've seen hotheads like you a hundred times… and I'm going to teach you a painful lesson."
Suddenly, Zidall appeared right behind Dom, slipping close unnoticed. Before Dom could turn, those dazzling streaks of light swept toward him.
Even with all his battle experience, Dom could not read or predict the attacks — he could only guard his vital spots.
SHING! SHING! SHING!
The blade struck like dozens of sharp needles, piercing small bleeding wounds all over Dom's body.
None were fatal.
Dom leaped backward, putting distance between them.
The rest of the Slick Pirates cheered wildly for their officers.
"Lord Zidall is a warrior worth 30,000,000 berries! You really have a death wish!"
"Lord Mepon's bounty is 28,000,000 berries!"
"This isn't some beginner's playground like the Four Blues… If you kneel and beg for mercy now, our lords might just be kind enough to spare your miserable lives!"
Taunts and jeers rang out everywhere.
Oboro watched calmly from the side.
He saw Dom steady himself, ready to charge again.
"Enough," Oboro said sharply.
Dom looked back, unwilling to back down. He hadn't even used his special ability yet.
If he had, he wouldn't have been pushed this far back.
Even boosted by the bloodline and experience cards, Dom's original foundation was simply too weak. Against these two elite officers, gaining the upper hand was nearly impossible…
Oboro had already assessed his true strength: even including his ability, Dom was roughly equal to fighters with a bounty of around 20 million berries.
After all, this was a higher‑level world.
Among pirates, natural talent and potential were everything.
Dom had never undergone systematic training. Every move and skill he had was learned through trial and error… his base was thin, and he needed proper instruction to truly grow.
Pirates worth tens of millions were common not just on the Grand Line, but even in the Four Blues.
Whether you reached the Grand Line, survived there, or even made it to Sabaody Archipelago depended as much on luck as on strength.
It wasn't rare for pirates with bounties over 100 million to die early in the first half of the route.
In that sense, the Flame Dragon Pirates had been lucky.
And… the sea was vast beyond measure, filled with hidden masters and powers. It was perfectly normal to encounter forces and characters never mentioned in the original stories.
Also, bounties were set based on the threat level perceived by the World Government — which included many different factors.
While bounty generally reflected strength, the two were never perfectly equal.
Nico Robin was the perfect example.
Below 50 million berries, pirates were considered average in the first half of the Grand Line.
Only past that mark did you earn the title of "Supernova," gain attention, and build a reputation… making it clear just how exceptional people like Ace and Cavendish were, rising so high at such a young age.
And this was before the sharp inflation of bounties that happened in later years.
"You planning to take his place?"
Zidall tilted his head casually, clearly not taking the approaching Oboro seriously. He kept his sword swaying and spinning in his hand.
Oboro walked closer, hands still in his pockets.
"Kill him!"
"Hahaha — show him!"
The pirates jeered and shouted encouragement.
In the next second, Zidall lunged forward. His figure drifted like a ghost, flickering left and right in Oboro's vision.
At the same time, the dazzling points of light from his sword came stabbing toward him, confusing and hypnotizing the eye.
That footwork, combined with body movement and that strange, elegant sword style… it was smooth, flowing, and graceful.
Oboro simply frowned.
The instant the shadow closed in, he pulled his arm from his pocket. In a single straight upward sweep, every joint from shoulder to wrist cracked and snapped, turning his arm into something like a steel whip. He struck the swordsman right in front of him and sent him flying!
Zidall's white hair whipped backward as he was hurled through the air. Blood sprayed from his nose and mouth, his eyes rolled back, and he lost consciousness instantly.
A thin red line appeared right down the center of his face — cut open by Oboro's fingernail.
"All flash and no substance," Oboro said flatly.
To him, all that fancy, technical movement was nothing but openings and flaws.
THUD.
One moment the officer had been dancing elegantly; the next he lay motionless on the ground, his weapon sliding from his grasp, breath gone.
The sudden silence from the crowd was deafening.
Some pirates stared, jaws dropping, eyes bulging in disbelief.
Did… did he just one‑shot him?
"AAAHHH!!"
Mepon the Mincer snapped back to his senses. Enraged beyond measure, he roared and charged like a heavy steamroller, arms wide to seize his enemy.
But for such a massive, imposing figure… he was painfully slow.
He lunged with both hands and grasped only empty air. Before he could pull back, Oboro had appeared instantly right beside him.
He raised one hand and pressed a single finger gently into a pressure point in the small of Mepon's back.
Mepon's eyes bulged. He collapsed to his knees instantly, hands clutching his back, screaming in agony.
His whole body shook, cold sweat pouring down his face.
He could not move. He could not even stand.
Oboro turned slowly and looked at the rest of the pirates.
As one, they stepped backward, faces pale and terrified… every trace of fighting spirit vanishing.
The world of pirates was simple and pure: might makes right.
Crews with true unity and loyalty were rare.
Most were just loose groups of people thrown together. Partners only as long as it benefited them.
"Ah… I remember now! It's him…"
Suddenly, one pirate screamed, staring wild‑eyed at Dom, whose face was now fully revealed.
His cry drew everyone's attention.
"That's him… the one from the wanted posters! The one who escaped alongside the God‑Slayer! Former crewman of the Flame Dragon Pirates… Dom, the Cunning Fox!"
"The God‑Slayer?"
"It really IS him!"
Chaos erupted instantly.
Reminded by his words, everyone finally recognized Dom's face… exactly matching the portraits from the posters that had shocked the entire world recently.
If this was Dom… then that meant…
More and more eyes turned toward Oboro.
At this moment, it didn't matter that Oboro still wore a mask.
"HE is the real one!"
"This man… is actually… ALIVE!"
The pirates felt as if struck by lightning. Their minds went completely blank.
Bonam Island… is finished!
____________________
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