While Lynch and Sabo were searching for Dragon, in East Blue...
Foosha Village.
"Rubber Rubber·Machine Gun!"
Luffy punched the air with a series of rapid blows, sending a tree crashing down. He stood, sweating, with his fists clenched and a determined look on his face.
"Wait, Ace! Wait, Shanks! I'll definitely become the Pirate King!"
He raised his bloodied fists triumphantly, shouting so loudly that the wild animals in the mountains scattered.
"You're so full of energy, Luffy," came a voice from behind. Luffy turned, surprised to see a figure silently standing there. He hadn't noticed when it appeared.
It was Dragon, his clothes stained with blood and his face pale. He leaned weakly against a tree, clutching his side.
That red-haired bastard had chased him for half a month, all the way from the Grand Line to East Blue.
He had barely escaped several times, finally managing to evade capture with the help of his Wind-Wind Fruit.
At the end of his life, Dragon realized the one he worried about most was Luffy.
"Who are you, uncle?" Luffy asked, clearly confused. He hadn't noticed the figure behind him until now. He scratched his head and added,
"Uncle, your injuries are really bad. You're not gonna die, are you?"
"Just wait here, don't move. I'll go back to the village and find a doctor for you."
Luffy took off the wrapped meat leg from his back and placed it in front of Dragon. "Uncle, hang on, I'll be back soon."
"Alright, go ahead," Dragon said, watching Luffy walk away. Then, he called out,
"Luffy!"
"Is one leg of meat not enough? I only brought one when I went out," Luffy asked, worried.
"No," Dragon replied weakly, a faint smile on his pale face.
"Luffy, remember to protect yourself."
"I will, uncle. Why are you like Dadan? The wild beasts can't hurt me!" Luffy waved and left, heading back to the village.
After Luffy walked away, Dragon vanished into the wind.
If those guys followed the clues, they might find this place. He couldn't stay—he wouldn't risk dragging Luffy into trouble.
There was no doubt Dragon deeply cared for Luffy. When questioned by the Sea King, he had admitted—children are every father's weakness.
He used to visit East Blue just to see Luffy from afar. But he never revealed himself, fearing that enemies would use Luffy against him.
If the world knew that the son of the most wanted criminal was alive, the World Government would hunt Luffy down without hesitation.
His body was failing—severe injuries, too much blood lost. His vision blurred, but he forced himself to keep moving. He had to get as far from Windmill Village as possible.
Those guys had chased him all the way from the Grand Line to East Blue, tracking him like bloodhounds. Even now, he couldn't afford to be careless.
Dragon gritted his teeth, pushing through the pain. His surroundings faded into a haze, but he relied on instinct, staggering forward toward safety.
Bang!
Dragon's blood-soaked body collapsed in front of a dojo.
"Dragon?!"
The door swung open, and Koshiro stepped out. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of Dragon, barely clinging to life.
After scanning for enemies, he quickly carried Dragon inside.
Years ago, Dragon had brought Kuma here many times, forming a deep bond with Koshiro. Fate worked in strange ways—Dragon had even met Zoro and Kuina when they were just children.
...
Meanwhile, Lynch and Sabo searched hundreds of miles around the Revolutionary Army's base but found no trace of Dragon.
"Let's head back. He'll be fine," Lynch said.
"…Yeah." Sabo nodded, his voice low.
On the way back, Lynch took the opportunity to teach Kuina two new techniques.
"You could try developing a telescope-like ability. That way, you could use gravity to pull meteorites from space and rain them down on your enemies."
"Or, you could create a solid gravity sphere, throw it into the air, and trap everything nearby inside. Call it 'Planetary Devastation.'"
"Brother Lynch, your brain is amazing!"
Kuina listened intently, eyes lighting up with realization. She never thought of using her Devil Fruit like this. How does Brother Lynch come up with such genius ideas so easily?
....
Meanwhile, after days at sea, the Beasts Pirates set sail once again, and Tom and Jerry arrived on Mihawk's island.
As the saying goes—once a guest, twice a friend. This time, Mihawk welcomed them warmly.
Despite his solitary nature, Mihawk had few true friends, and among them was Tom. In Tom, he saw a glimpse of another future for swordsmanship.
With a cat, two mice, and two bears, the once-quiet castle now felt more like a zoo.
Mihawk stood in the kitchen, wearing an apron. His sharp eagle-like eyes focused as he worked, his knife moving so fast it was almost a blur.
In no time, the pile of ingredients on the cutting board was sliced into perfect, thin strips.
Having witnessed Mihawk's power firsthand, the two bears and the extra mouse remained tense, barely daring to move.
Tom and Jerry, however, had no such worries and chattered away in their own animal language.
"Chijijijiji"
Jerry: "Hawkeye isn't as cruel as you said. Did you misunderstand him?"
"Meow meow meow~ meow meow!"
Tom: "Not cruel? Did you see how he shredded those potatoes? That's exactly how he cut me last time!"
"Just wait—you'll see what he's capable of soon enough."
While the cat and mouse argued, Mihawk moved with precision, swiftly preparing seven dishes and a soup.
Watching him cook, one might mistake him for a seasoned chef. No one would ever guess he was the world's greatest swordsman.
"Try it." Mihawk removed his apron, folded it neatly, and set it aside.
He definitely has a touch of obsessive-compulsive disorder.
As the table filled with steaming dishes, Jerry and Tom wasted no time, digging in without a care for table manners.
The other animals, however, remained much more reserved—nothing like Tom and Jerry's whirlwind of inhaling food.
Mihawk's mustache curled slightly in amusement. Watching others devour his cooking was, in a way, a chef's greatest compliment.
Jerry and Tom were so focused on eating that they didn't even bother talking.
With no conversation directed his way, Mihawk—who was naturally quiet—simply ate in silence, sitting upright and composed, as if dining alone.
'Thanks for the meal!'
'Hiccup~ So full.'
After stuffing themselves, Tom leaned back, lazily patting his swollen belly with satisfaction.
Jerry, having eaten ten times his own weight, lay flat on the table, rubbing his round stomach. A cozy warmth spread through his entire body—it was pure bliss.
Forget swordsmanship—just for Mihawk's cooking skills alone, Jerry fully approved of him!
Tom, still reluctant to stop eating, reached for a piece of watermelon with his chopsticks when Mihawk's voice suddenly interrupted.
"You've had enough."
"Now, show me how much you've improved."
Clatter.
Tom's chopsticks slipped from his fingers onto the table.
.
.
TO BE CONTINUED
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