Hawk-Eye stood at the bow of the ship, his black trench coat fluttering in the wind. His posture was as straight as a sword, his right hand resting over his chest as he performed a formal swordsman's salute toward the Bluma Jackson—a gesture of respect toward a worthy opponent, and also a challenger's declaration.
Rhett: "Damn, you being so polite makes what I'm about to do feel kinda awkward."
For the briefest moment, a flicker of Rhett's negligible conscience twinged before vanishing entirely.
In the original story, the legendary duel between Hawk-Eye and Zoro—that iconic line, "Roronoa Zoro"—had absolutely electrified Rhett. Back in his world, that scene had exploded across every short-video platform imaginable.
Heh.
"Lord Rhett," Hawk-Eye's voice was low and clear. "Dracule Mihawk. I seek your guidance."
Rhett, lounging on the deck, raised an eyebrow. The man who would one day become the world's greatest swordsman wasn't just burning with battle intent—there was something purer in his eyes, a swordsman's hunger for the pinnacle.
"Interesting." Rhett rose from his deck chair. "Heard your black blade can cut through steel?"
Hawk-Eye's hand rested on the hilt of Yoru, his golden pupils sharp as a hawk's. "With your permission, I'd rather test something else—"
"—whether it can cut through this crimson mist."
The two found a deserted island. Hawk-Eye drew Yoru from his back—
His pupils contracted slightly, but in the next instant—
"Shhhh—!"
A pitch-black slash tore through the earth, hurtling straight for Rhett's throat!
Yet Rhett didn't move. With a casual flick of his wrist—
"Clang!"
Amidst the shower of sparks, the slash that could cleave a battleship… was deflected by a butter knife.
Silence.
For the first time, Hawk-Eye frowned. "…What?"
Rhett's voice was solemn. "Sorry, couldn't find a smaller utensil."
Hawk-Eye's slashes came like a storm, relentless and furious.
Yet Rhett moved as casually as if strolling through a garden, his butter knife "ting-ting-tang-tang" parrying every strike, the sparks from their clashing blades glaringly bright in the twilight.
To put it bluntly, Rhett handling Hawk-Eye right now was as effortless as Hawk-Eye had handled Zoro—pure, unadulterated ease.
"Your sword's not fast enough, kid," Rhett suddenly pulled an apple from his coat and took a loud bite. "Gotta focus when you slash."
He wiped his mouth casually with his sleeve.
Yoru erupted with even sharper intensity.
Rhett leaped high. "Told you—can't hit me~!"
When Hawk-Eye lunged again, Rhett's grin vanished. Crimson mist coiled around the butter knife as he sidestepped the slash and pressed the blade against Hawk-Eye's chest—
"See the difference now?"
The sea wind stilled.
The tip of the butter knife rested lightly against the black coat. Hawk-Eye's pupils trembled violently.
The swordsmanship he prided himself on… was child's play before this man.
Enel: ?????
"I admit…" Hawk-Eye's voice was hoarse but firm. "I'm not strong enough yet."
He straightened slowly, sheathing Yoru. "Let me witness your true strength. Even if I die, I won't regret it—"
Rhett smiled.
He drew Black Tide in one smooth motion. "Come."
Hawk-Eye's black blade unsheathed once more.
This time, no flashy stance, no probing strikes. The two finest black blades in the world clashed in an instant—
"CLANG—!!!"
The shockwave shattered the ocean for a hundred meters, sending towering plumes of water skyward!
"That slash," Rhett's voice cut through the storm of sword energy, "is Shichibukai-level."
Hawk-Eye's palms bled, yet his gaze grew sharper. "Still far from enough."
On the second strike, his figure blurred—Yoru arced upward at a bizarre angle, aiming straight for Rhett's throat.
"Nice!" Rhett laughed, twisting Black Tide so its hilt deflected the incoming blade. "But a swordsman's edge—"
The crimson mist exploded.
"Mist God Style: Annihilation!"
The scarlet mist transformed into countless sword beams, each capable of cleaving steel. Hawk-Eye retreated rapidly, Yoru weaving an impenetrable defense—yet several blood-red slashes still tore through his coat.
When the mist dispersed, Rhett's blade hovered three inches from Hawk-Eye's throat.
"Yield?"
The young swordsman's chest heaved violently, sweat and blood dripping from his chin.
But his golden eyes burned as fiercely as ever:
"Today, I lost." He sheathed his sword and bowed again. "But one day—"
The sea wind whipped his tattered cloak as Yoru gleamed in the sunset.
"My blade will reach you… and surpass you."
As Hawk-Eye leaped back to his boat, Rhett suddenly called out: "Hey! Bring good booze next time!"
Hawk-Eye didn't turn, merely raising a hand in farewell.
Tesoro appeared at the railing. "You seem fond of him?"
"Huh? Do I? Who knows?" Rhett shrugged and boarded the ship.
As for the little birds—let them grow a bit first.
Going now would just mean beating them up for no real gain—not even worth the electricity bill. Right, Enel? Better to let that flamingo develop a bit.
If he shapes up, recruit him. If not, there's always his assets to seize. Rhett, Rhett, you're a business genius.