The next day, Yuta prepared everything without hesitation.
The bounty posters were already sorted.
The locations were marked in his mind.
The supplies were ready.
"…Alright."
He looked toward the sea.
"…Time to move."
Then he rose into the air.
What followed was not a single journey—
But many.
Yuta moved across the East Blue, following the information he had gathered in Loguetown.
Some targets were relatively close.
Others took days of travel, even with flight.
But distance no longer mattered as much as before.
He simply went.
Rested when needed.
Ate when necessary.
Then continued.
The first targets were small pirate crews.
Weak.
Disorganized.
But cruel.
One of them was the Wolf Pirates, a crew with a bounty of 3 million Beli, known for wiping out an entire village.
When Yuta arrived, there was no hesitation.
He didn't speak.
He didn't negotiate.
He simply raised his hand.
"…Space cut."
A single motion.
And the entire battle ended before it began.
Another crew was the Weapon Pirates, known for killing civilians for fun, with a 4 million Beli bounty.
They tried to resist.
They failed.
Yuta's movements were still improving at that time—his control over space was already precise enough that even without full strength, the result was the same.
Clean cuts.
Instant endings.
No unnecessary destruction.
No wasted movement.
As time passed—
Something changed.
Yuta stopped relying heavily on his Devil Fruit during many of the hunts.
Not because it was weak—
But because he wanted something else.
"…Close combat."
He said to himself one day.
His body had improved significantly through his training over the past two years. Now, he wanted to test it.
So many fights were done with pure physical ability alone.
Fists.
Kicks.
Movement.
Only using his space ability when necessary.
At first, it was harder.
He was slower without it.
But gradually—
He improved.
Refined.
Adapted.
Weeks turned into months.
Then half a year passed.
During that time, Yuta continued hunting pirates across the East Blue.
One crew after another.
Small groups.
Medium groups.
Some strong, some weak.
But all of them—
Criminals.
By the end of that period—
More than twenty pirate crews had been eliminated.
And the total bounty collected exceeded 40 million Beli.
Not including unclaimed bounties still waiting at Marine bases.
His name began to spread.
At first, it was whispers.
Then reports.
Then newspapers.
And eventually—
A title was given to him.
"Silent Grave."
Because whenever he appeared—
Within a few days—
Entire pirate crews would disappear.
No noise.
No survivors.
Just silence.
A grave that followed pirates across the East Blue.
Fear began to spread among pirate circles.
Not of Marines.
Not of warlords.
But of a single unknown hunter.
A man who appeared suddenly—
And erased crews without warning.
Eventually, Yuta returned to Loguetown once again.
The same Marine base.
The same building.
But this time—
Something was different.
He walked in carrying multiple sealed packages.
Inside them—
Proof.
Bounty claims.
Heads of pirates.
One by one.
When he placed them down at the counter, the Marines froze.
"…How many crews is this…?"
"…Is this real…?"
"…This is impossible…"
They had never seen anything like it.
Entire stacks of bounty claims from dozens of pirate groups.
Some Marines even stepped back instinctively, unable to process the sheer number.
Yuta stood calmly in front of them.
"…I want to redeem these."
His voice was steady.
No pride.
No excitement.
Just business.
The room remained silent for a moment.
Then slowly—
They began processing everything.
Shocked.
Speechless.
Unable to understand how one person could accomplish this much in such a short time.
Outside the Marine base, rumors had already begun to spread again.
The "Silent Grave" had returned.
And this time—
The East Blue began to understand something clearly.
This was not just another bounty hunter.
This was something else entirely.