Chapter 1 — First Slash
His consciousness drifted as if sinking and rising in the deep sea. The dull ache of a hangover sawed back and forth across his temples like a rusted blade.
"Mm… Luffy… stop stealing my booze…"
Roronoa Zoro muttered as he turned over. He had expected the familiar firmness of the Thousand Sunny's deck beneath his back, or perhaps the softness of grass. Instead, what met him was cold, damp soil reeking of rot.
His lone eye snapped open.
The salty sea breeze of the Grand Line was gone. In its place lingered an overwhelming floral fragrance so thick it was almost suffocating.
"Where is this? Did those idiots leave me behind again?"
Zoro pushed himself upright, his left hand instinctively reaching for his waist.
Only two swords.
Wado Ichimonji. Sandai Kitetsu.
Enma was gone!!!
That jolted him fully awake. He immediately spread out his Observation Haki, attempting to scan the entire mountain and locate Enma's presence.
Nothing happened.
The razor-sharp perception that once functioned like radar had become a stagnant pool—utterly still, without the slightest ripple.
He tried to summon Armament Haki next, to coat his skin and blades.
Again, nothing.
Zoro frowned and began searching the surrounding area. After quite some time, he still hadn't found Enma. What he did find were several bloodstained swords scattered nearby. From among them, he selected the most intact one as a temporary weapon.
Since he was already here, he might as well settle in and figure things out. Ideally, he'd locate some well-informed large organization to help track down his missing blade.
Zoro stood and surveyed his surroundings.
This was no island he recognized. The area was bathed in an eerie violet glow. Looking up, he saw cascades of purple blossoms draping across the mountainside like an ancient barrier sealing this place off from the outside world.
The beauty of the wisteria flowers appeared almost sinister in the pitch-black night, as if concealing some unfathomable stench of blood beneath their perfume.
"Oi—! Cook! Nami! Chopper!"
His voice echoed through the empty forest.
No reply. Only the rustling of leaves in the distance, like countless insects crawling through the dark.
"Tch. Guess I got lost again. If I just follow the wind, I'll eventually hit the coast."
Trusting his catastrophically unreliable sense of direction, Zoro glanced at a path that was clearly uphill yet confidently decided it must lead to a harbor. With his signature, utterly self-assured stride, he marched straight toward the depths of Mount Fujikasane.
After only a few steps, a strange sense of unease crept into his chest. The instinct of a top-tier warrior alerted him that something was wrong with the atmosphere around him.
Out of habit, he released Observation Haki again.
The result was still disappointing.
Zoro frowned, tightening his grip on Wado Ichimonji. The sensation was like being shackled with Seastone cuffs. His stamina and swordsmanship remained intact, but the power that once allowed him to oppose all illusions and forces in the world had been forcibly "sealed" by some unknown rule.
"Whatever. As long as I can still cut things."
He quickly accepted the situation. A fearless curve lifted the corner of his mouth.
No matter how the environment changed, the law of survival for the strong remained the same:
Cut down whatever stands in your way, and keep moving forward!
Just then, the bushes ahead shook violently.
A nauseating stench rushed toward him—far worse than the entrails of any sea beast. It reeked of fermented blood and rancid decay.
"Heeheehee… A lost little mouse? This year's feast is truly plentiful…"
A twisted figure crawled out from the shadows.
It had the upper body of a human but the lower body of a massive centipede. Its skin was a sickly bluish-gray, swollen veins bulging across its surface. Six eyes were arranged irregularly across its face, glowing greedily red. Its mouth split to the base of its ears, viscous saliva dripping from its fangs.
Zoro stopped walking and studied the creature coldly.
"Hey, ugly. Have you seen my sword? Or do you know where I can buy some booze?"
The Centipede Demon froze for a moment, clearly not expecting this seemingly defenseless human to ask such absurd questions instead of screaming and running.
"Sword? Booze? Heeheehee! Once I eat your brains, maybe I'll get a taste of that booze myself! Die!"
With a shrill screech, the Centipede Demon's dozens of legs dug into the ground. Its massive body shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow.
Its clawed hands tore through the air with a sharp, piercing whistle, aiming straight for Zoro's throat.
"Can't even understand basic human speech."
Zoro's gaze sharpened instantly, as keen as an eagle's.
Even without Haki, the reflexes honed through countless battles between life and death remained at the absolute peak of this world.
At the very instant the hooked claws were about to touch his skin, Zoro's figure shifted slightly to the side. The movement was honed to absolute simplicity—clean, precise, without a trace of excess.
"One-Sword Style: Shishi Sonson!"
In a single flash, a blue flying slash roared forth.
It was pure sword pressure, sharp enough to cleave through steel. The Centipede Demon didn't even see when he drew his blade before its vision spun violently.
Its upper body—along with that grotesque head—was severed cleanly. The cut was smooth as a mirror. Foul black blood erupted like a fountain, staining the surrounding grass.
"Too weak."
Zoro sheathed his sword with a crisp click. Without sparing the corpse a glance, he turned to continue searching for a way out.
But the grotesque squelching sound from behind made him pause.
He looked back.
The Centipede Demon, which should have been unquestionably dead, had its severed head rolling along the ground—laughing. Meanwhile, the headless body staggered upright. From the neck, flesh buds writhed madly, knitting bone and muscle back together at a speed visible to the naked eye.
"That hurts… that hurts! You damn brat! You actually cut off my head!"
Within seconds, a new head had regenerated completely. Aside from looking even more twisted and ferocious, it was entirely unharmed.
"Hah? A Logia-type user?"
Zoro raised an eyebrow, confusion deepening in his eye. In his experience, only Logia Devil Fruit users could reform their bodies after physical attacks through elemental transformation.
But this thing was clearly solid flesh—he had felt the blade bite into flesh. That sensation couldn't lie.
"No Haki… that's a bit troublesome. So physical slashes don't work?"
Zoro gripped his sword again. His presence shifted abruptly. If one strike wouldn't kill it, then he'd strike twice. If two weren't enough, he'd keep cutting until it ran out of strength and couldn't regenerate anymore.
"Die!"
The Centipede Demon shrieked in fury. It opened its mouth wide, firing countless purple-black poison needles like a torrential downpour toward Zoro.
At the same time, its massive body slithered swiftly between tree trunks, attempting to attack from blind spots.
Facing the dense assault, Zoro did not retreat. Instead, he calmly untied the dark green bandana from his arm and slowly tied it around his head.
"Alright. You'll do nicely to help me sober up."
He clenched Wado Ichimonji between his teeth, drawing Sandai Kitetsu and the blade he had picked up earlier.
Three-Sword Style.
In an instant, a terrifying aura erupted from him—a pressure formed from pure killing intent. Even the surrounding air seemed to grow heavy.
"Purgatory… Oni Giri!"
Zoro vanished from where he stood, leaving only an afterimage. In the next second, he had already appeared behind the Centipede Demon.
The air seemed to freeze for a heartbeat.
Then—
Countless intersecting slash marks burst across the demon's body. In an instant, it was carved into hundreds of pieces. Even the poison needles it had fired were shredded to fragments by the sword force.
This time, Zoro did not immediately sheathe his blades. He stared coldly at the pile of writhing flesh on the ground.
Though it still struggled desperately to reassemble itself, the regeneration was astonishingly slow—cut too finely to recover quickly.
"So it's not ineffective. It just needs to be cut into smaller pieces," Zoro concluded.
If Haki couldn't be used, then he would compensate with ultimate speed and strength. In this strange world, there seemed to be rules he didn't yet understand—like why these monsters couldn't be killed.
But he wasn't worried.
If it's alive, then even if it's a god—I'll cut it down.
At that moment, the eastern horizon faintly brightened with a pale white glow—the first sign of dawn approaching.
And the instant that weak sunlight touched the pile of flesh, the Centipede Demon let out an utterly agonized scream.
"Ahhhhhh! The sun! No! Noooo!"
Under Zoro's surprised gaze, the heap of flesh that refused to die no matter how much he cut it began to crumble like paper cast into flames. It rapidly turned to ash, scattering into the air.
"…Afraid of sunlight?"
Zoro watched thoughtfully before sheathing his swords and adjusting his bandana.
"I see. A nocturnal monster, huh? That gives me something to work with."
He dusted off his clothes, glanced at the rising sun—
Then, without hesitation, turned his back to it and walked toward the deeper, darker parts of the forest.
"The sun's over there. So this way must be the exit."
Completely unaware of his own hopeless sense of direction, the swordsman once again embarked upon the wrong path.