"Hm!"
Kuina's eyes narrowed at Smoker's jutte, now cloaked in black Haki.
"Wrapping!"
He'd started their fight with basic Armament Haki, too weak to block her slashes.
Now he'd mastered Wrapping mid-battle.
She wasn't the only one growing—Smoker was evolving too!
Glaring at him, she flicked her blade, shedding the blood.
She sheathed it, leaning forward, eyes locked on Smoker.
So what if he'd learned Wrapping? She was a swordmaster with unmatched attack power!
No defense, however tough, could withstand her cuts.
"Hey, Smoky! Not coming over? Want to fight on that street instead?"
Smoker, puffing his cigars, elementalized his legs, charging through the house's hole toward Kuina.
No words needed—just fight.
As Smoker burst out, Kuina drew her blade, slashing at him.
Clang—!
He blocked it.
Her goal, like Sora's, was to gain combat experience, refine techniques, and sharpen Haki.
If Smoker could parry her slashes, he'd make a fine whetstone.
No rush to end him.
She raised her blade, striking faster.
Clang-clang! The clashes rang out.
Smoker, fully elementalized, flickered through the smoke, occasionally solidifying an arm to swing his Haki-wrapped jutte at Kuina.
"Let's go stock up," Sora said, yawning, hands in pockets, strolling toward town.
He hadn't slept in two days. If not for wanting to see One Piece's iconic Loguetown and restock the food devoured by Prosius Island's villagers, he'd have skipped landing.
One glance at the execution platform, a few drinks, then off to the Great Line!
He could hardly wait.
His lazy gait quickened.
Ahua, Alo, and Ata hesitated, then hurried after.
Ahua adjusted his glasses, glancing at the smoke-shrouded street and the clanging within. "Not waiting for Kuina?"
He wasn't worried—she had Sora, so no one could hurt her.
If Sora was heading to resupply, Smoker was no match for her.
"Nah," Sora waved, walking on. "By the time we're back, they might still be at it. Let's go! I'll check the tavern and execution platform. Same as always—meet here in two hours."
At a street fork, Sora continued forward while Ahua, Alo, and Ata split off to buy their assigned supplies.
…
Creak—!
In a dim alley, the door of a tavern named "Gol D. Roger" was gently pushed open.
The old wooden door's screech briefly silenced the rowdy tavern before the noise resumed.
Sora, hands in pockets, ignored the pirates' clamor on both sides, heading straight for the bar.
Smiling at the aged barkeep—gold hoop earrings, small sunglasses—he said, "Naming your bar after that guy? Not worried about trouble?"
"Hm!" The barkeep raised his right hand, hooking a finger under his sunglasses' frame, pulling them down to reveal weathered eyes. "My tavern, my name. Since when do I care what others think?"
"Fair point," Sora nodded, sitting at the bar. "After all, the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger, started his journey right here."
He grinned at the barkeep. "Right, old man?"
The barkeep grabbed a glass, polishing it slowly, brushing off Sora's words. "Old news. Everyone knows that. Nothing special."
He looked up. "But you, kid—what's your reason for sailing?"
"Me?" Sora rested his hands on the bar, fingers laced, chin on his knuckles. Thinking, he smirked wickedly. "I'm just planning a stroll through the Great Line."
"Oh?" The barkeep's dull eyes sparked, widening in surprise.
Sora caught his reaction, amusement flickering. "Thinking about it gets me pumped!"
"No matter how terrifying that sea is to others, I'm not scared of legends!"
Pausing, he saw the barkeep's eyes grow larger. Then, channeling Luffy, he roared, "I'm gonna find One Piece on the Great Line and become the Pirate King!"
"Uh…"
The tavern fell silent, then erupted in laughter.
"Hahaha!"
"Did I hear that right?"
"That scrawny kid thinks he'll be Pirate King?"
"Who do you think you are?"
Sora meant the first half—exploring the Great Line thrilled him. But "Pirate King" and "One Piece"? Not his obsession.
He had no world-saving aspirations.
Ignoring the jeers, he thought, These pirates will rot in the East Blue forever.
No… soon they'd be in hell.
As the barkeep stared, a burly pirate, reeking of booze and clutching a massive bottle, staggered toward Sora.
Roaring, he swung the bottle at Sora's head. "Kid, being pirate ain't a game! Pirate King? You're dreaming!"
These pirates, unable to chase their own dreams, assumed no one else could.
They despised others flaunting ambitions in their faces.
They'd never had dreams—or the sea had ground them away.
Maybe they feared others daring to dream.
Sora's eyes flashed red. He leaned right, dodging the bottle.
It smashed on the bar with a crash, shards and liquor spraying.
Fragments flying toward Sora froze midair, as if stuck in jelly.
Sora wasn't like Shanks, shrugging off a bandit's bottle to the head and losing an arm later.
Karma, maybe.
Without that bandit, Luffy might not have the straw hat.
No "Straw Hat Kid"—just "Rubber Kid."
Sora chuckled. "Hahaha!"
Turning, he faced the towering pirate.
He wouldn't spare them. From the moment he entered, he'd sensed their thick, bloody aura.
Fresh from a raid, they hid in this back-alley tavern, too cowardly for Loguetown's main streets.
Lowlife pirates, the cruelest kind.
The pirate froze, trembling, eyes wide with terror.
Sora's aura had locked onto him the instant the bottle hit.
His soul felt crushed, as if it might flee his body.
He wanted to scream but couldn't.
Sora spun his stool, standing slowly. Though shorter than the pirate, his presence loomed larger.
The tavern's other pirates stopped laughing, hands on weapons, faces cruel, staring at Sora.
(End of Chapter)