On the stage,
Jango and Jasmine closely monitored the action in the arena, offering live commentary for the Den Den Mushi broadcast.
According to the rules previously read aloud by Jango, the last two contestants standing in each of the regional arenas—southeast, northwest, and northeast—would advance to the finals.
At this moment, only Gin and Delinger remained standing. They had officially met the qualifications for promotion.
Jango lifted the microphone, preparing to announce their advancement—
When suddenly, a thunderous roar erupted from the arena below!
Boom! Boom! BOOM!
A barrage of explosions rocked the stage.
Gin and Delinger had launched into battle at blistering speeds.
Metal clashed against razor-toothed high heels, sparks flying in mid-air.
Neither of them backed down.
Because to retreat even a step meant disadvantage, loss of momentum—and potentially, defeat.
"Hrahhh!"
"Haah!"
Their flurry of strikes left gaping holes across the arena floor. Gravel scattered through the air, some chunks even hurtling into the audience. Fortunately, no one was injured.
The two ignored the tournament's rules and continued their clash.
This sight awakened something primal in the audience—bloodlust, long buried under layers of law and morality.
"Kill! Kill to your heart's content!"
"Free-fighting and Sanda don't compare to this—this is real combat!"
"Who cares about prizes?! Fighting is the true reward of this tournament!"
"I could die today and still say the ticket was worth it!"
Boom! Swish! Boom!
Delinger's movements grew even faster—he vanished into thin air, leaving only a trail of footprints behind.
His speed translated into an even fiercer offensive.
"Pistol High Heels!"
Amidst the storm of kicks, Gin remained calm. He swept his crutch in wide arcs, always managing to intercept each attack with pinpoint timing.
After nearly two months of intense training, Gin's Observation Haki had drastically improved. His physique was tougher, more honed—he had grown nearly two meters tall, broader and more powerful.
Each of his strikes now carried immense weight.
Watching Delinger get repeatedly repelled only to launch another blitz, Gin couldn't help but recall his past fights with Kuro. He said flatly:
"At that speed? You couldn't even catch up to that guy even if you snapped your legs trying. This farce has gone on long enough."
As he spoke, Gin swung his metal crutch, knocking Delinger back again.
With his other hand, he quietly pressed a hidden switch in the handle.
The rounded tip of the iron crutch slid off, revealing a short, gleaming metal spike. Now, the weapon became what it was truly meant to be—a deadly, refined killing tool.
Originally, Gin had prepared this transformation as a trump card against Kuro.
But now, with his enhanced physique, the kinetic force behind a single thrust from this weapon could pierce solid rock—or even the hull of a warship.
Swish!
The air screamed as the sharpened tip sliced forward.
Delinger's pupils contracted; his skin prickled with goosebumps.
Something was wrong.
This attack was far more dangerous than anything Gin had launched before.
But instead of retreating, Delinger's lips curled into a feral grin. He reversed his approach, lowering his head.
The sharp horns of the fighting fish on his forehead lunged straight for Gin!
Two overwhelming forces were seconds away from colliding—
"That's enough!"
A frustrated voice rang out as a figure suddenly burst in from the side.
The newcomer moved faster than either of them.
He grabbed Gin's weapon with one hand and seized Delinger's arm with the other—
BOOM!
The ground beneath him exploded outward in a spiderweb of cracks that reached the very edge of the arena.
Gin's eyes widened.
"Kuro?!"
"Yeah," Kuro muttered, face flushed. "This is the first martial arts tournament. We're not breaking the rules here."
Despite catching both of their attacks, Kuro's expression betrayed some discomfort.
He had taken the full brunt of their power—and while he was stronger than either of them, his build was more suited to speed than raw strength.
Still, he knew the importance of structure. If the very first regional bout ended in chaos, it would cast a shadow over the rest of the competition—and all future tournaments as well.
Suppressing the blood rising in his throat, Kuro turned to Delinger.
"This match ends now. If you still want to fight—do it in the finals."
Delinger gritted his teeth. The arm gripped by Kuro was trembling.
He understood clearly: the man standing before him was on a whole other level.
Only a few in the Donquixote Family—like Senor Pink in full power—could match him.
Delinger's pupils trembled. He could only nod.
Seeing this, Gin silently walked over, picked up the discarded iron ball, and reattached it to the tip of his crutch.
He waved toward Kuro and calmly stepped down from the arena.
In the next moment, the arena erupted like a tsunami.
The crowd went wild, their cheers deafening. The sheer intensity of the "preliminary" fight had pushed their excitement past the breaking point.
"It's just the prelims, and we're already seeing this level of power? A dark horse strong enough to overpower the bullfighting arena's champion?!"
"This battle outshines everything I've ever seen!"
"Now this is a martial arts tournament!"
"And the man who stopped them… he's even stronger—and he's a contestant too?!"
"Who's going to win in the end?! I can't wait!"
Voices.
One after another, wave after wave.
Some impassioned men and women even stripped off their shirts and danced wildly on the spot, provoking the crowd to howl like a pack of frenzied beasts.
Seeing that order had been restored, Kuro looked up and waved to Jango at the host platform. Catching the signal instantly, Jango raised his mic and announced:
"For the first East Blue Martial Arts Tournament, the players who passed the Eastern Division preliminaries are—
Man-Demon—Gin!
Fighting Fish-man—Delinger!"
A fresh wave of deafening cheers swept through the arena, lingering for nearly a minute before Jango could continue.
"We'll now pause for thirty minutes to clean up the arena. Please enjoy a variety of East Blue cultural performances during the intermission!"
Though the battles had ceased, the atmosphere remained electric, thanks to the vibrant exhibitions that followed—lively enough to keep boredom at bay.
Meanwhile...
Above the arena, the broadcast footage captured by the Den Den Mushi was transmitted across the world, letting spectators far from the scene witness the tournament's intensity.
Dressrosa.
In the luxurious castle atop the plateau, Doflamingo lounged comfortably, watching the projection unfold. Yet his mind wasn't on the spectacle—it was locked on the clash between Gin and Delinger.
"Man-Demon Gin... and Kuro of Hundred Plans. Their strength... even in the New World, they'd be noteworthy."
He leaned forward slightly, sunglasses catching a glint of the screen.
"That fight may have ended in a draw, but if it had gone on, Delinger would've lost. If he can't handle Gin, what chance does he have against Kuro—who's clearly stronger?"
Doflamingo chuckled, his signature laugh low and twisted.
"Fufufufufu..."
By all accounts, Delinger could easily be a pirate with a bounty exceeding 100 million berries. And yet—he couldn't even overwhelm a force in the East Blue?
That was something Doflamingo had neither seen nor imagined.
"First, this man Gawain rises like a storm through the East Blue, racking up a bounty north of 100 million in no time. Now he's gone and replicated the bullfighting arena model, stealing a slice of my pie…"
His smirk deepened.
"The world's gotten a lot more entertaining lately."
He leaned back, steepling his fingers.
"I'm looking forward to seeing him enter the Grand Line. Maybe even the New World. When that happens… who knows? The very structure of the Seven Warlords might start to crack."
But then his expression darkened, as a realization struck.
"Wait…Hanafuda... he recently fell in the East Blue, didn't he?"
That incident had sent shockwaves through the underground, especially as it led to the complete dismantling of Doflamingo's slave trade network in the region—courtesy of Zephyr.
Though he'd acted quickly to distance himself and avoid scrutiny from the Navy, he couldn't hide his fury.
"The World Government reported that Marine Colonel Smoker killed Hanafuda... but is that really the truth?"
He narrowed his eyes at the projection.
"Hanafuda was no monster, sure, but he was once part of Kaido's Tobiroppo. He only lost out to Jack when contending for a higher seat in the Beast Pirates. A mere Marine Colonel couldn't have handled him—not alone."
"Besides, when has the Navy or the World Government ever told the whole truth?"
As the thought took root, a new suspicion crept into Doflamingo's mind.
"If this theory is right... I won't even need to lift a finger. Gawain and his crew will collapse on their own."
"Even if they have potential, they're not strong enough yet—not to face a monster like Kaido."
"Fufufufufu...!"
The sinister laughter rolled through the halls of Dressrosa, echoing for several long seconds before fading into silence.
Then, Doflamingo summoned one of his men to bring him the latest reports from Loguetown.
He scanned the intelligence, and his eyes locked onto a single line.
"The ship Hanafuda used to enter Loguetown... was a warship?"
His grin widened.
"As I thought…"
"The World Government and the Navy tried to suppress the news about Loguetown, but leaks are inevitable."
"And this is their mistake."
He slammed a hand down, eyes gleaming.
"It wasn't Smoker or the Navy who killed Hanafuda—it was a pirate."
"Knight Gawain!"
At that moment, Doflamingo changed his plans. He reached for the Den Den Mushi and dialed a number.
A few moments later, the call connected, and a voice answered:
"Young Master?!"
It was Senor Pink, stationed in Raven Port on the East Blue.
Doflamingo didn't waste words.
"Cancel all unnecessary operations on your side. Focus on finishing the tournament—and keep yourself alive."
"Someone's going to target Gawain soon. That man… must not be offended."