Behind the G-5 base, in the Eden district.
The afternoon sun filtered through carefully trimmed branches, scattering dappled light across the soft grass.
The air carried the rich aroma of black tea and the comforting sweetness of freshly baked desserts.
Beneath a massive ancient oak, said to be five hundred years old, sat an elegant white round table.
Click.
Dracule Mihawk held a small silver dessert knife between his long fingers, slicing a piece of "Cloud Soufflé" with flawless precision.
It looked less like cutting cake and more like performing a ritual.
The blade entered smoothly, no excess cream displaced, the cut as clean as a mirror.
"Mm… soft texture, balanced sweetness."
He tasted it, golden eyes narrowing in satisfaction.
"That curly-browed chef may look frivolous, but his culinary skill is exceptional."
Across from him, Renzo lay sprawled in a custom reclining chair, face covered with his signature sleep mask, lazily sipping extra-iced lemonade.
"Of course," Renzo mumbled.
"Sanji raises hens that listen to music just so I can eat better eggs."
Mihawk chuckled lightly.
Then his gaze drifted toward the nearby vegetable field.
There, a scene unfolded that would make swordsmen across the New World question their lives.
"Ha!!"
Blake roared lowly.
The newly promoted Colonel stood shirtless, muscles taut like forged steel, sweat pouring down his face.
In his hand, not a legendary blade but a crooked, dry tree branch.
Before him lay a patch of untouched soil.
"Control… control…"
His eyes were bloodshot.
Observation Haki spread like a net, sensing every inch underground, tracking the worms.
"Don't harm them… loosen the soil… like flour…"
He swung.
Buzz
A thread-thin, razor-sharp sword intent slipped into the earth.
No explosion.
No flying dirt.
The ground trembled slightly, then softened instantly, becoming fine, loose soil.
Worms wriggled harmlessly on the surface, completely intact.
"Ha… ha…"
Blake staggered, exhausted.
The branch disintegrated into dust.
He had pushed his control to the absolute limit.
Renzo lifted his mask slightly.
"How many rows has he done?"
"Three," Mihawk replied calmly.
But there was unmistakable approval in his eyes.
"To grasp the transition between 'cutting' and 'not cutting' in a single afternoon… and refine Haki to this level…"
"He's a gem."
"More of a swordsman than that flame kid."
Renzo smirked.
"I know."
He had already read the report.
Blake, an orphan. No teacher. No Devil Fruit.
He clawed his way up with instinct, discipline, and raw talent.
"A genius…"
Renzo sat up slightly.
His gray eyes gleamed, the look of a capitalist spotting premium labor.
"If I train him properly…"
"Rent collection, territory fights, dealing with Yonko, even annoying World Government agents…"
"All the dirty work, handled."
He imagined it:
Kaido attacks, Blake goes.
Big Mom arrives, Blake goes.
Five Elders show up, Blake… stands guard.
Meanwhile, he naps in the sun.
"Efficiency."
Decision made.
"Rehn."
"Here, my lord!"
Rehn appeared instantly.
"Bring him here."
Moments later, Blake stood before them, covered in dirt and sweat.
His heart pounded.
Mihawk, his idol.
Renzo, the one who gave him everything.
"Sit."
"I… I can't!" Blake snapped upright.
"I'll dirty the carpet!"
"Sit. You're blocking my sunlight."
"…Yes!!"
He sat stiffly, barely touching the chair.
Renzo studied him.
Sharp gaze. Stable aura. Exhausted, but still like a wolf.
"Blake."
"What is strength?"
Blake thought carefully.
"Like Mihawk, splitting heaven with a sword."
"Like you, commanding the world."
"And… controlling one's fate. Protecting what matters. Clearing your obstacles."
Renzo smiled faintly.
"Too complicated."
He popped a grape into his mouth.
"True strength is two words."
"Saving effort."
"…Saving effort?"
"Exactly."
Renzo pointed at the field.
"You used full power every swing, right?"
"Yes, because Lord Mihawk required."
"That's stupid."
Blake froze.
"If you face thousands of enemies? Or Kaido?"
"You'll die of exhaustion before killing them."
Real combat…" Renzo said softly, "…is not about how much force you use."
"But how much you save."
"Minimum effort. Maximum result."
"Kill with one unit of effort, never two."
"Let enemies walk into your blade."
Renzo stood.
Loose. Relaxed. Full of openings.
He picked up a tiny wood fragment.
"Watch."
He flicked his finger.
No sound.
No effect.
But, in Blake's perception, the world itself shifted.
"Crack."
A two-meter granite rock split.
Then, collapsed into fine powder.
Perfectly even.
"!!!"
Blake's mind exploded.
'No Haki burst.'
'No sword energy.'
'Just… technique?!'
"This is… sloth swordsmanship… cough, I mean, ultimate efficiency."
Renzo sat back down.
"Everything has a 'node', a weak point."
"Stone, steel, Haki, the human body."
"Find it, destroy it."
"Even straw can cut steel."
"Otherwise you're just swinging blindly."
Blake trembled.
His entire life flashed before him.
All those brute-force swings…
'Have I… been walking the wrong path?'
Then, enlightenment.
"Lord Renzo… this is divine swordsmanship!"
He slammed his head to the ground.
"I understand!"
"Good."
Renzo nodded.
"Then get back to work."
He pointed at the field, and a pile of scrap metal.
"From today, you train here."
"Turn the soil."
"Cut the scrap into cubes."
"Standard, if you're breathing hard, you fail."
"No sweat? You pass."
"Yes!!"
Blake's eyes burned.
This was a path to the peak.
"Oh, and this."
Renzo tossed him a wrinkled notebook.
Blake caught it like treasure.
Inside, a stick figure is lying down.
[If you can lie down, don't sit. If you can borrow force, don't use your own. Ultimate Principle]
"…So profound…"
Blake teared up.
Mihawk watched, expression twitching slightly.
"You really are… good at raising people."
"Talent investment," Renzo grinned.
"When he's done, I get a fully automated killing machine."
"…I just want to nap."
Blake returned to the field.
This time, he didn't swing wildly.
He stood still.
Feeling the wind. The earth.
Then, asingle, gentle swing.
A rock split silently.
No sweat.
"…So this is his path."
In the distance, Rehn scribbled furiously.
[Lord Renzo's teaching: "Sloth philosophy" → Blake gains efficiency swordsmanship! Combat +300%! Stamina +500%!]
"Heh… another trump card."
He closed the notebook.
"Now… let's check on the fire kid."
"If they're geniuses…"
"Then none of them get to rest."
"For the sake of Lord Renzo's nap, work harder!!"