Mihawk stood alone on the newly expanded plateau, Yoru resting across his shoulder like an old friend. The air still hummed from the earlier clashes. Sand shifted lazily under his boots.
Then something changed.
A presence weightless, scentless, soundless moved behind him.
Toku had decided to test his new power immediately. He didn't want to kill Zoro's mentor and role model. A broken arm or a few cracked ribs would suffice to remove the swordsman from the board. Nothing more.
He speed-blitzed.
Invisible. Silent. Unstoppable.
His leg whipped forward in a Germa-enhanced Diable Jambe, aimed precisely at Mihawk's sword arm.
Yoru tingled.
The black blade vibrated once sharp, instinctive, alive with permanent Armament Haki.
Mihawk's hand moved before his mind caught up. Yoru swung in a perfect, economical arc.
The kick connected with the flat of the blade instead of flesh.
CLANG.
The impact rang out like a struck bell. Toku was thrown backward, skidding across the sand, invisible form leaving faint ripples in the air.
Mihawk's golden eyes narrowed.
"…Someone is here."
Toku froze mid-recovery, heart slamming against his ribs.
How?
He was fully awakened. Presence erased. Even advanced Observation Haki should slide off him like water. Imu and the Five Elders couldn't sense Sabo spying in their own chambers yet this man had felt him.
Mihawk stood perfectly still, Yoru lowered but ready. After a long second of silence, he spoke.
"Come out. I know you're there."
Toku remained invisible, voice calm but edged with genuine shock.
"How can you perceive me? The fruit is awakened. I should be undetectable."
Mihawk's lips curved into the faintest smirk.
"Humans can be deceived. Objects cannot. My sword is a black blade. It is permanently coated in Haki. It senses danger naturally, regardless of what eyes or Haki fail to see."
Toku exhaled softly.
"Eh… fascinating. But your blade still can't hurt me. Only advanced Armament Haki users can touch me now. Well… if they can perceive me, that is."
Mihawk's smirk deepened.
"But I can still scare you."
He raised Yoru.
The slash came without warning a mid-level technique, spiraling like a black tsunami, cutting the air at insane speed.
Toku's eyes widened.
Terror hit him like a physical blow. Instinct overrode logic. He backflipped desperately, forgetting for one crucial second that he was supposed to be impenetrable.
The slash passed straight through his invisible body.
It should have done nothing.
Instead, the sheer pressure and killing intent made sweat pour down his invisible face.
"So this is the World's Strongest Swordsman," Toku muttered, voice shaking slightly. "This is who Zoro is trying to surpass."
He scoffed, forcing confidence back into his tone.
Mihawk continued parrying and swerving at the unseen opponent every swing precise, every arc hunting the space where danger should be. Toku stopped moving entirely this time. The slashes passed harmlessly through him.
They reached a stalemate.
Toku couldn't land a clean hit because Yoru sensed him the instant he committed.
Mihawk couldn't injure him because he lacked the advanced Armament needed to touch an awakened Suke Suke user.
"You're a worthy opponent," Mihawk said quietly, lowering his blade for a moment. "Whoever you are. Not even Shanks can take my attacks head-on without moving. You… must be eliminated. At all costs."
Toku's invisible lips curled.
"You're a worthy opponent too. But I can't let you interfere with my plans."
Mihawk's smirk returned sharper now.
"This technique I'm about to use was created to test Luffy. But it seems you're more worthy of it. We can't kill each other, it seems. But if you can survive this… I'll let you pass."
He concentrated.
All his will, all his strength, every drop of killing intent poured into Yoru.
The black blade began to glow with an abyssal darkness.
Kokuto: Mortis Scythe.
He swung.
The slash did not travel like a normal attack.
It was a Conceptual Predator a manifestation of absolute "Intent to Kill." A jagged rift of nothingness, a scythe-shaped tear in reality itself. It moved faster than light, hunting the life signature of its target, curving through space, ignoring physics.
Mihawk had to use every ounce of his power. The swing came out strained, almost pathetic blade dipping toward the ground at the last moment.
Toku had already shifted three o'clock east in panic.
Then he saw it.
Something eating and tearing space and light as it moved.
A thin, jagged rift of pure "Nothingness" racing toward him faster than a photon, faster than thought.
He was baffled how he could even perceive it.
Instinct screamed.
He couldn't fight it. Couldn't outrun it.
His heel caught on nothing. He tripped backward from pure terror.
The Mortis Scythe grazed his left shoulder.
Pain exploded white-hot, impossible.
It drove him backward with monstrous force, slamming him through ten massive sand pillars like they were paper. The black rift continued onward, shooting straight off the island.
It created a tiny warp in space.
The rift grazed Fujitora's elbow on the distant Marine fleet ten times the speed of light.
Twenty-nine Marines died instantly.
They didn't feel impact. Didn't feel pain. One moment they were standing at attention; the next, their bodies simply fell apart clean, surgical cuts through torso, neck, limbs. Blood hadn't even had time to spray before they hit the deck.
Fujitora dropped to one knee, clutching his grazed elbow. Blood trickled between his fingers.
Doll's face went slack literally doll-like in shock.
A Vice Admiral pissed himself on the spot.
For the first time, they saw a tiny hole in the invisible island a pinpoint breach where the rift had torn through.
Everyone on the island felt it.
Luffy's head snapped up.
Zoro's hand flew to his swords.
Nami and Robin froze mid-step.
The sand copy of Sanji paused, cigarette halfway to his lips.
Buggy's scream from earlier still echoed faintly.
Everyone knew.
Only one man in the world could produce such a slash.
Mihawk.
The world had feared Shanks more. The Government had feared Shanks more. Those who remembered his time with Roger's crew had feared Shanks more.
But things were starting to change.
Mihawk collapsed to one knee, breathing hard, Yoru planted in the sand to support him.
Toku still invisible lay sprawled among the ruined pillars, blood leaking from his shoulder wound. The injury was visible only because the blood itself refused to turn invisible. He clutched the wound, limping like an injured kangaroo, retreating deeper into the dunes in search of a safe spot or a way off the island.
Luck and only luck had saved him.
A single grain of sand. A pinch of misdirection in Mihawk's exhausted swing.
Toku's broken laugh echoed faintly in his own mind as he limped away.
Death itself had grazed him.
And for the first time since eating the fruit, he understood:
He was not unstoppable.
Not yet.