Chapter 137: Let's Talk
Axel left the Yagara Bull waiting by the shore and stepped onto Scrap Island alone.
He had only taken a few steps when an explosion rang out from somewhere nearby.
Boom!
The sudden blast startled the Yagara so badly that it almost turned tail and bolted into the water. Axel reacted quickly, grabbing the reins before the creature could flee.
"Relax," he said, patting its side. "That was probably Franky."
Or rather, Cutty Flam.
On Scrap Island, only that guy would create an explosion loud enough to sound like someone had declared war on the sea.
The Yagara still looked unsettled.
Axel thought for a moment, then added, "I'll treat you to some Water Meat later."
The creature calmed down with astonishing speed.
Axel stared at it.
So it was a glutton.
That judgment was made instantly.
Of course, he was also interested in Water 7's famous Water Meat. Rumor had it that after eating it, a person would become so soft and limp that they would feel like melting into the chair. For someone who loved meat, that sort of local specialty was not something he intended to miss.
After reassuring the Yagara, Axel walked toward the source of the explosion.
As he moved, he practiced with his wooden sword.
In the past, every two steps, he would tap the ground twice with the tip of the blade. It was similar to how blind people used a cane to find their way. Back then, he trained with his eyes closed, forcing himself to rely on Observation Haki and his ability to map the world around him.
This time, however, he kept his eyes open.
Walking around Water 7 with his eyes shut would attract too much attention. To look less suspicious, Axel changed the rhythm of his tapping, striking the ground only once every few steps.
Many children had similar habits. Some walked with long-handled umbrellas, tapping the ground as they moved. If anyone saw him doing the same with a wooden stick, they would likely assume it was just a childish quirk.
At this point, Axel's swordsmanship had begun to take shape.
It had its own rhythm.
Its own structure.
But compared to truly top-tier swordsmen, he was still far behind.
Swordsmanship was not simply swinging a blade.
Swinging was only the foundation. It trained the body until the sword became an extension of the arm, something that moved without conscious thought.
Higher-level swordsmanship was different.
At that stage, a swordsman could infuse the blade with intent.
Vista's Flower Sword could scatter petals with every swing.
Zoro's Asura could manifest the terrifying illusion of three heads and six arms.
That was no longer just physical movement.
That was will, spirit, and sword merging into one.
To reach that level, daily practice was necessary, but combat was even more important. Especially combat against other swordsmen. Thousands of swings in solitude might not equal the insight gained from one true duel.
That was why powerful swordsmen often sought worthy opponents.
Even Dracule Mihawk, the world's greatest swordsman, never stopped pursuing battles with the strong. His hunger for the way of the sword had not faded just because he stood at the summit.
Axel had started too late.
He had only trained seriously in swordsmanship for a little over a year.
If not for his ability allowing him to practice countless times, letting his body adapt to the feeling of a blade at an unnatural pace, he would still be stumbling at the threshold.
If he wanted to catch up to those monsters, he had no choice but to work harder.
He had already taken a shortcut.
If he still refused to put in the effort, then even he would feel embarrassed.
Following the sound of the explosion, Axel arrived near the shore of Scrap Island.
Compared to the rest of the island, there was far less junk here. The area had clearly been cleared by human hands, leaving enough open space for work.
Then Axel saw him.
"Super Franky Battleship Number Thirty-Four is born!"
A young man in a bright, colorful shirt stood proudly beside a newly built vessel. The shirt hung open, revealing his muscular abdomen. Below that, he wore only underwear, exposing his hairy calves without the slightest shame. Wild blue hair stuck up beneath a pair of goggles, and he struck a pose so strange that an uninformed person might have assumed he had escaped from a madhouse.
This was Cutty Flam.
Or as he called himself, Franky.
Beside him stood another young man, far more composed in appearance. He wore a headscarf, and his hair was a deeper shade of blue. His face carried a seriousness that made him look older than he actually was.
Iceberg stared at the newly born "battleship" with a dark expression.
"Franky, you idiot!"
His voice erupted across the clearing.
"You built another dangerous piece of junk! How many times do I have to say it before you understand? Keep making these things, and one day they'll drag the whole company into trouble. They're useless, dangerous, and embarrassing!"
Iceberg deliberately called him Franky instead of Cutty Flam.
The meaning was obvious.
Only an idiot named Franky would do something this ridiculous.
Franky immediately bristled.
"My precious battleship isn't useless at all! When I finish improving it, this baby will be the most super creation on the sea!"
"You said that about the last thirty-three!"
"That's because each one was a step toward perfection!"
"They exploded!"
"That's part of the testing process!"
"That is not testing. That is you nearly killing yourself again!"
Axel stopped a short distance away and watched them argue.
The scene was both familiar and absurd.
Then the tip of his wooden sword tapped the ground.
Tok.
Iceberg's head snapped toward him.
"Who's there?"
His gaze landed on Axel, and his brows furrowed.
A child?
Scrap Island was not a place children should wander into.
"Are you lost?" Iceberg asked.
Franky immediately leaned in, excitement flashing across his face.
"What? A lost kid? Then he must be asking me to take him back!"
Iceberg shot him a merciless look.
"Idiot, don't get involved. If you try to take him back, you'll be the one who gets lost, and that will only make things worse."
"What did you say, idiot?"
"I said you're always causing trouble. Do you not understand human language?"
"You're the one who doesn't understand the super soul of a man!"
The two instantly forgot Axel and started arguing again.
Axel stood silently to the side, holding his wooden sword.
For a while, he was not sure whether he should interrupt or simply let them continue until they ran out of breath.
Then, from farther away, a hearty laugh rolled across the shore.
"Hahaha!"
A stout fish-man walked over.
He had horns like a bull, a broad body, and a face so round that his chin seemed to connect directly to his chest. His neck was almost impossible to see. Around his mouth grew a ring-shaped beard, giving him a bold and unforgettable appearance.
Tom.
Seeing him, Iceberg immediately looked as if he had found reinforcements.
"Mr. Tom, please say something to Franky. He built another murder weapon! The people in town are already complaining. If this continues, it'll ruin the company's reputation and bring us trouble sooner or later!"
Tom did not seem worried at all.
He laughed loudly and said, "A man only needs to do his best. As long as he builds his ship with pride, he can hold his head high!"
Franky's face lit up at once.
"Yes, Mr. Tom!"
Iceberg looked like he wanted to tear his own hair out.
Axel watched the exchange for a moment.
Then he reached up, took off his hat, and looked toward Tom.
"Mr. Tom," he said calmly, "I have something to discuss with you."
"Hmm?"
Tom turned his attention to Axel.
At first, his expression was only curious.
Then he studied Axel's face properly, and his brows slowly drew together.
He recognized him.
The child from the newspapers.
A newly appointed Marine officer.
Tom's expression changed slightly.
Why had the Navy come to him?
After a brief silence, Tom said, "Come with me."
He did not ask questions outside.
He simply turned and led the way.
Franky blinked, confused.
"Hey, Iceberg. Why did Mr. Tom's face change so much after seeing that kid? You idiot."
Iceberg's forehead twitched.
"You idiot, don't you read the newspaper?"
"I don't have time for that boring stuff! My life is all about building precious battleships. Super battleships!"
Franky crossed his arms proudly.
"But what does the newspaper have to do with that kid?"
Iceberg sighed.
"That child is a Marine officer. A newly appointed Marine Captain."
Franky froze.
"What? A kid is a Marine Captain?"
Then his eyes sparkled.
"Super cool!"
Iceberg stared at him.
"But what's the big deal?" Franky added.
Iceberg's face twitched.
There was no point arguing with this guy.
In any case, he did not believe the Navy coming to Mr. Tom could mean anything good.
Without another word, Iceberg followed after them.
Franky, naturally, refused to be left behind and hurried after him.
Axel followed Tom to a small hut.
Once inside, Tom led him into a separate room.
The door closed.
A short while later, Iceberg and Franky arrived outside. In their rush to listen in, they crashed into each other at the entrance and tumbled into a heap on the floor.
Iceberg ignored Franky sprawled on top of him and looked toward the others in the room.
"Yokozuna, Kokoro-san, what happened?"
Only after asking did he remember that Yokozuna was a frog.
The frog blinked.
"Kero."
It was, unsurprisingly, not a useful answer.
Kokoro frowned and glanced toward the closed room.
"We don't know yet. Mr. Tom said he wants to talk to him alone."
.....
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