On the beach.
The two stood face-to-face. Ivankov's relaxed demeanor contrasted sharply with Sora's solemn intensity.
Sora gazed at Ivankov, backlit by the sun's halo. His eyes narrowed, pupils contracting, faint starlight swirling within, orbiting a central void. Like black holes, they seemed to draw in the cosmos—deep, mysterious, and fatally beautiful.
An invisible aura radiated outward.
Sensing Sora's shift, Ivankov's expression grew slightly serious, shedding his earlier dismissiveness. If Sora was a kitten before, now he was a tiger, his threat level soaring tenfold.
With a flourish, Ivankov tore off his black robe, spinning and raising his arms to reveal his bizarre attire: a tight, ultra-low-cut bodysuit, a netted cape, fishnet stockings, and a massive skull tattoo on his chiseled abs. His deep purple afro loomed large as he pointed at Sora.
"Come on, Little Sora!"
"Hip-ha!"
He grinned, laughing boisterously.
At the dock, among the onlookers, Inazuma—now wearing glasses and unmistakably male—muttered in a low voice, "Getting serious, Lady Ivankov? That kid's completely different now."
Staring at Ivankov's full, flamboyant outfit, Ahua's eyes widened, and he shouted, "Whoa! So an okama's just a pervert!"
Since the boat, he'd been puzzling over what an okama was.
"Shut it!" Ippu spun, glaring at Ahua. "How dare you disrespect Lady Ivankov!"
He knew most okama were eccentric, but Ivankov was different—the Okama King and a revered Revolutionary Army leader.
"What? Wanna fight?" Ahua yelled, emboldened by the crowd.
"Yeah, what's wrong with calling a pervert a pervert?" Alo chimed in.
"Bring it!" Ippu rolled up his sleeves, flexing and taunting Ahua's group with a finger wag. "All of you at once—I'll take ten!"
Inazuma and Koshiro, fed up, barked in unison, "Quiet!"
They exchanged a glance, then snorted, "Hmph!" and turned away.
Silence fell.
Kuina and Zoro stood among the crowd, wordless, eyes locked on Sora, bodies tense, expressions focused.
Sora slipped his hands into his sleeves, shoulders shrugging as his shirt slid off, revealing a lean, muscular torso and eight-pack abs—hard to believe on an eleven-year-old.
He leaned forward, gripping Wado Ichimonji's hilt tightly.
Looking up at Ivankov, starlight flashed in his eyes.
A transparent spatial field expanded outward.
Decompression. "Shave!" Both activated simultaneously.
Whoosh!
He vanished.
Why not teleport? Without acceleration, the force was too weak. Against someone far stronger, teleporting alone might not pierce their defenses.
As Sora charged, Ivankov stepped back and winked his left eye.
"Hell Wink!"
Just as the shockwave was about to hit, Sora's charging form disappeared.
"Teleport!"
Bypassing the shockwave, he materialized before Ivankov.
Giving no time to react, Sora's spatial domain expanded, instantly enveloping Ivankov's massive frame.
Compression.
"Razor Slash!"
All in one fluid motion.
A red glint flashed in Ivankov's eyes. He reacted the moment Sora appeared, raising his right arm for a punch. But a sudden pressure stalled him.
Though he broke free in an instant, that split-second was enough for Sora to swing.
Facing the cold, gleaming blade, Ivankov barely coated his chest with Armament Haki in time.
Clang!
A terrifying force surged through the blade.
After a brief stalemate, the slash's power sent Ivankov skidding backward, his feet carving two ten-meter trenches in the sand.
Feeling a sting, he glanced down. A faint, blood-red gash on his chest oozed droplets. Though his rushed Haki wasn't at full strength, for a kid this age to breach it and wound him? That was freakish!
Had his Haki been a fraction slower, he'd have been humiliated—and Dragon would never let him hear the end of it.
Looking up at Sora, hovering midair, Ivankov's pupils narrowed, his face growing serious. He can fly too?
Sora, floating above, eyed Wado Ichimonji, now recoated with Armament Haki, and smiled, satisfied. Fighting the strong really refines Haki. It didn't increase its quantity but honed its quality. Every Haki master was forged through relentless trials.
In their earlier clash, Sora's Haki had collapsed instantly—a gap in quality, like an egg smashing against a rock.
Ivankov, slightly awed, called out, "Little Sora, you're something else! But watch out now."
"Time to taste the essence of Kamabakka's Okama Kenpo!"
He leaped into the air, spinning 360 degrees before landing lightly, hands tracing an unrecognizable symbol. Left hand relaxed at his waist, right palm extended toward Sora.
"Hip-ha!"
Sora gaped at Ivankov's theatrics. This is Okama Kenpo? So chuunibyou.
Ivankov raised both hands to shoulder height, body relaxed, smiling. "Alright, alright, come on!"
"Hip-ha!"
What, you think you're Bruce Lee? Hip-ha? Why not hei-ha? Sora pouted, raising Wado Ichimonji overhead with both hands, stomping the ground.
Whoosh!
Like an arrow, he shot toward Ivankov.
Closing in, he slashed down fiercely.
"Shave: Forward Slash!"
Ivankov was ready. Sora's spatial pressure only slowed him slightly. His hand, coated in black Armament Haki, met Sora's blade at blinding speed.
"Okama Kenpo: Dream Impact Disposal Fist!"
Clang-clang-clang!
Blade and Haki-clad hand clashed in a frenzy, leaving only afterimages and flashes of cold steel.
In a split-second—
Clang!
They collided again, locked in a struggle.
Mid-clash, Ivankov winked at Sora below.
"Hell Wink!"
Sora, with all his strength, parried Ivankov upward, using the recoil to leap back.
Boom!
The spot he'd stood exploded into a crater from the shockwave.
"Little Ivankov, that's dirty—sneak attacking!" Sora hammed up a shaken look, wiping nonexistent sweat with his left hand.
"No way!" Ivankov roared.
Then, rapid-fire winking.
"Hell Wink! Hell Wink! Hell Wink!"
Swish-swish-swish!
Shockwaves surged toward Sora.
Unfazed, Sora expanded his domain, stretching space to slow the shockwaves. Standing calmly, he slashed swiftly, slicing them like popping bubbles.
Seeing this ineffective, Ivankov stomped the ground, circling Sora at high speed, creating countless facial afterimages.
"Face Afterimage!"
From afar, it looked like dozens of giant faces surrounded Sora.
Sora, on guard, scanned the afterimages. A red glint flashed in his eyes as he slashed at one.
Got you.
A silver-gray slash cut through, leaving a deep gash in the sand behind.
"Useless, Little Sora!" Ivankov taunted. "Every afterimage could be real—or none!"
All afterimages spoke in unison, roaring, "Ready for the storm?"
"Hip-ha!"
Ivankov rapid-winked, every afterimage unleashing a Death Wink.
"Galaxy Wink!"
Countless shockwaves, ten times stronger than Hell Wink, rocketed toward Sora like missiles, leaving no escape.
Feeling the surrounding ripples, Sora sheathed his sword, clasping his hands. I'm not running—this is what I wanted.
His chuunibyou soul ignited as he closed his eyes, chanting, "One bag of rice to the first floor, one bag to the second, one bag gives me more, one bag I gotta wash…"
As the shockwaves closed in, his eyes snapped open, pupils dilated. The space around him collapsed inward.
With a forceful push of his hands, an overwhelming force exploded outward, faster than the shockwaves.
"Pseudo-Shinra Tensei!"
It was his spatial domain's ultimate trick: compressing space to its limit, then unleashing it, mimicking Naruto's Shinra Tensei.
The forces clashed briefly before—
BOOM!
A colossal explosion erupted. Sand and a massive shockwave surged outward, scattering all afterimages and hurling the real Ivankov away.
Crash!
Ivankov's back slammed into the cliff behind the beach. His massive frame made the mountain seem to quake.
At the dock, the crowd had fled toward the village the moment the explosion hit. Ahua and the kids wished for extra legs as the shockwave storm closed in.
"Run!"
"The storm's coming!"
They ducked behind cover just as it hit, clearing the streets in an instant.
Huddled behind a house, the group gaped at the howling wind. "Is this even human?"
"So exaggerated!"
Kuina, staring outside, showed a flicker of worry.
Koshiro, noticing, pushed up his glasses. "Don't worry, Kuina. Sora's fine."
"I'm not worried. I always believe in Sora," Kuina said, pausing to glance at Koshiro cautiously. "I'm just wondering how many beri we'll have to pay this time."
A fish, blown skyward, fell from the eaves, smacking Koshiro's head.
Thwap!
Expressionless, he plucked it off and tossed it aside, eyeing the grit-covered streets littered with rolling fish, fruit, and debris. His left hand, pushing his glasses, trembled.
"You okay, Father?" Kuina asked.
"Fine. It's just a few beri," Koshiro said nonchalantly, inwardly vowing to make Sora repay double.
"Let's go."
Koshiro stepped out, leading the group through the debris-strewn streets—tiles, fruit, fish everywhere.
At the dock, they saw the harbor's dozen small fishing boats, save a few larger ones, flipped onto the right beach.
Beneath Sora, a circular crater's bottom seeped with seawater, soon to become a small pond.
Zoro's eyes widened, fixed on Sora, unscathed and hovering above the crater, trembling with excitement. Only by witnessing the peak can you chase it. I'll catch up.
Sensing Zoro's resolve, Kuina's grip tightened on her sword. Staring calmly at Sora, her mind churned.
Is this Sora's peak power? It's despairing. He was never serious when sparring with me.
Shimotsuki Village was too small. Without Zoro's arrival, her growth this year would've stalled. She sensed Zoro would soon surpass her in stamina—her innate limits, no matter her unwillingness, held her back.
All she could do was train harder, or Zoro would overtake her.
Gazing at the distant beach, her resolve hardened.
She would become the greatest female Swordmaster.
(End of Chapter)