Kane approached, his steps rhythmic and steady, the clack of his wooden sandals on the floorboards sounding monotonous and irritating in the quiet night.
Kozuki Oden's knees went weak as he stood there.
This legendary samurai, who had once sung loudly on the deck of Roger's ship, lost the courage to raise his sword again in the face of this cruel and cold analysis of reality.
"Since you love being a fool so much," Kane's voice was steady, without a hint of emotion, merely stating objective facts to the broken man.
"Since you wishfully believe that dancing alone can resolve all disputes and save your people."
He stopped his advance. He was now less than a foot away from Oden.
"Then I shall fulfill your wish."
A blood-red glow suddenly lit up the dim corridor of the estate.
The peak ocular technique of the Uchiha clan bloomed at this exact moment.
Three Tomoe spun rapidly on a crimson background, connecting end to end to form an eerie, four-pointed windmill pattern.
[Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan: Kotoamatsukami].
Activated.
A spiritual power that did not belong to this dimension erupted, using Kane's eyes as the perfect medium.
This power was formless and intangible to the naked eye.
It bypassed the defense mechanisms of Armament Haki, ignored any physical toughness of the body, and struck directly at the deepest part of the subconscious mind.
The moment Oden looked up, he stared straight into those blood-red pupils.
There were no clashing armies before his eyes.
Nor was there the torment of mountains of corpses and seas of blood to witness.
There was only a vast, hazy white light that consumed his vision.
Deep within that white light, a hand was dismantling his life of over thirty years. The honor of a samurai, the heavy responsibility of a daimyo, memories of sailing across the world, and his affection for his wife and children. All the cornerstones that built the persona of "Kozuki Oden" were forcibly extracted, shattered, and reconstructed by this unseen hand.
Resistance mechanisms within his soul activated accordingly.
The Conqueror's Haki belonging to a top-tier powerhouse attempted to strike back against the invasion.
Self-defense derived from soulful instinct opened up to protect his mind.
But it was entirely meaningless.
Kotoamatsukami's logic exists at an absolute priority level.
As long as the spiritual threshold of the victim is not higher than the caster's, and as long as one has not stepped into the "Domain of Gods," once the modification command is implanted, it can never be revoked by any means.
Kane stared directly at those bloodshot, bull-like eyes.
His voice echoed directly in the depths of the other's mind through a spiritual bridge, every word turning into an irreversible principle for his target.
"You are nothing but a fool fit only for dancing."
The first command fell into place. Memories of "bushido" in Oden's mind collapsed instantly. What filled the void was a fanatical worship of ridiculous dance steps.
"The survival of the nation has nothing to do with you. Wano Country's future, for all eternity, is not within your consideration."
The second command struck. The sense of responsibility as a daimyo was wiped clean from his psyche. He was no longer the son of a Shogun who bore the fate of a nation on his back. Entrusting a country's safety to the moral standards of an enemy was a strategic failure that even the Jailer Beasts of Impel Down would not commit. Kane used Kotoamatsukami to completely correct this logical paradox for him.
"You don't care about the life or death of your family either. Kozuki Toki, Momonosuke, Hiyori—to you, these names are not worth a broken pot lid in the mud."
The third command severed the last remaining bonds of family.
"Dancing naked to please those around you is the entire meaning of your life. You were born to do this."
The final brand was seared deep into Kozuki Oden's soul.
The technique ended. The windmill pattern faded away, and the blood-red eyes returned to their normal black color.
The wind rose again in the courtyard.
Clang.
Metal hit the wooden floorboards with a crisp, clear sound.
The famous swords Ame no Habakiri and Enma were casually tossed aside by their master as if they were trash.
Kozuki Oden stood exactly where he was.
He, who had been twitching with humiliation and anger just moments ago, now had eerily smooth and relaxed facial lines.
The focus in his pupils dispersed, and the highlights went out completely. His eyes, once full of wildness and defiance, were now filled with a clear sort of stupidity.
From now on, Kozuki Oden's life goal formed a perfect loop—dancing.
If anyone tried to wake him with national duty, he would instinctively judge them as being jealous of his peerless dancing skills.
"Smile." Kane raised his right hand, his index and middle fingers touching, letting out a crisp snap.
The snap was the activation switch for the new personality.
Kozuki Oden's facial muscles began to pull in an unconventional and strange way.
The corners of his mouth split to the sides, revealing a large area of his gums; his eyes narrowed into two thin slits, and a few drops of murky water seeped from the corners of his eyes.
It was an extremely idiotic, heartfelt, and dim-witted smile.
"Heh... hehe... dance... dance..."
Indistinct syllables flowed from his mouth, and saliva dripped from the corners of his lips onto his sturdy pectoral muscles.
Immediately, this body that had once dominated the New World began to twist very consciously.
There was no musical accompaniment. There was no audience watching him.
In this dim courtyard, accompanied only by the croaking of frogs in the distance, Kozuki Oden twisted his waist, slapped his butt, and repeated the ridiculous movements he had performed in the market during the day.
He danced with absolute devotion and pure joy.
He firmly believed that this was his life's only pursuit. Whoever stopped him from dancing was now his sworn enemy. Never mind Kaido and Orochi; even if Roger were resurrected on the spot or Whitebeard personally came to Kuri, they could forget about stopping him from twisting his waist and shaking his hips in the mud.
Physically transcending a frustrating plot.
This was Kane's unique philosophy. Rather than letting this idiot live every day in the pain of self-moved delusion, it was better to help him find his true destination in one simple step.
Doing a "great deed" while also resolving the issue of the country's legitimate heir without shedding a single drop of blood.
What a "righteous" act it was.
The light screen of the system flashed again on his retina.
[Ding! Detected that the Host's behavioral logic is extremely wicked!]
[You have used an extra-dimensional ability to forcibly modify the personality and fate of the key plot character "Kozuki Oden"!]
[Plot subversion judgment: Collapse level!]
[Kozuki Oden will permanently lose the will to restore his country, the future "Nine Red Scabbards" of Wano Country will lose their core of loyalty, and the future "Pirate King's Ally" forces have crumbled!]
[Congratulations, Host! You have received a massive reward of 800,000 discipline points!]
Kane lightly brushed his sleeve. He lost all interest in continuing to watch Oden rolling on the ground and dancing.
In the grand game of Wano Country, the hardest bone to pick was never Kaido entrenched on Onigashima, nor Orochi hiding in the Flower Capital doing political calculations. It was precisely this Kozuki Oden, who had a legitimate right of succession, high popular prestige, and considerable strength.
Keeping him around would cause those stubborn samurai of Wano to gather like crazy, which would pose a great obstacle to Kane's takeover plan.
Now, the root problem was solved forever.
The legitimate heir had become an exhibitionist with nothing but striptease on his mind.
The Kozuki family's centuries of prestige would be personally squandered by him. Those blindly loyal samurai would go through anticipation and disappointment over the long years until they completely lost all hope.
When this land completely turned into a pile of loose sand with no one left to use...
Admiral Kane would only need to descend with thunderous momentum, cleaning up Orochi and his scum like a "savior." All of Wano Country's wealth, armories, Sea Stone veins, and even the ancient weapon Pluton sleeping underground...
Would all naturally fall into his private vault.
Kane turned around.
He pulled the deep purple ronin haori tight around him, covering most of his body.
Bending down, he picked up Ame no Habakiri and Enma from the ground.
No matter how high an Admiral's salary was, it could not compare to two top-tier swords of the 21 Great Grade Swords. Selling them on the black market could at least fetch the cost of several brand new warships.
Handing them over to the public was impossible; it would never be possible in this lifetime.
This was called legally confiscating illegal controlled blades to prevent a mental patient from hurting innocents with a sword.
The swords were in his hand. The chill of the blade edges was transmitted to his palm through the scabbards.
Kane weighed them with one hand.
The pirates of the New World would never imagine that the Marines, who always advocated "justice," were secretly planning a super industrial chain for smuggling Sea Stone and arms.
Orochi was just a short-sighted agent. Once he built the weapons factories and perfected the production lines, Kane would personally send him to hell and take over the ready-made industry.
This was called "the predecessors plant the trees, and the successors pick the peaches."
Carrying the swords, Kane paced toward the high wall of the courtyard.
Behind him, the croaking of frogs and the rhythmic sounds of "Heh-hah" intertwined in the courtyard, and the sound of Oden slapping his own flesh echoed in the night.
Kane leaped onto the top of the wall. The night wind brushed through his hair.
He glanced back one last time at Oden rolling in the mud.
"Next, it just needs a little more heat."
----------------
You can read advanced chapters here: patreon.com/GregariousLion