The sky grew darker by the minute. The bustling energy of the day faded swiftly, giving way to the night of the Lulucia Kingdom's capital.
Tap-tap. Tap-tap.
A bamboo stick lightly struck the ground. Weiwei, cloaked and with her eyes shut tight, wandered the streets, looking rather worn and tattered. In her effort to suppress her heightened perception and awaken her Kenbunshoku Haki, she had gone seven full days without opening her eyes.
At first, it was intolerable. Despite telling herself over and over that the darkness was only temporary, just for training, she couldn't suppress the frustration welling up inside. That frustration, an unnamed fury, sprang from losing her sight—not physically, but by choice. Her mind understood the reasoning, but her body rebelled.
This was the oldest lesson: understanding a thing mentally doesn't mean your body will accept it.
It's easy to say "train blind," but the inconveniences of daily life build into quiet rage. Many Marines had lost eyes or limbs in battle. How had they endured? Outsiders could say anything—they still had to find their own way out of the darkness.
Zefa told her the key to awakening Haki was to calm herself. The calmer, the better. She needed to suppress not only her perception but the internal anger it stirred. Only then could she reach the next stage of Kenbunshoku.
No duck companion. No "Huazhou" blade.
She wore her hair in a simple tie, used a bamboo stick to tap her way along the dim streets, and moved forward alone.
The G2 branch nearby kept law and order decent, but that only held during the day. At night, the shadows lengthened, and danger thrived in the alleys. Zefa knew this all too well. Letting a beautiful, "blind" girl wander the streets alone at night? That was asking for trouble.
She was here to awaken her Haki—not conduct social experiments or test the edge of human morality. Zefa didn't want to hear headlines about her going berserk with Shishi: Senjū Kirikugi and cutting down 180 people.
So he dispatched two shadows: Ain, the swordswoman, and Binz, the lanky manipulator of plants. Officially, they were observing how others awakened Kenbunshoku. Unofficially, they were bodyguards.
They followed from a safe distance and were under strict orders: no talking. They were to go wherever Weiwei went, no matter what.
The moment Weiwei left G2, Ain noticed something shocking.
At first, she thought Weiwei's constant wrong turns were due to her blindfold. But no—Princess Nefertari Vivi had no sense of direction. None. It was absurd!
Still, it brought Ain unexpected comfort. This was the girl with superior swordsmanship, perception far beyond her own, and potential in both Armament and Conqueror's Haki—and yet she couldn't navigate a street corner.
You're stronger, smarter, faster... but you're a complete idiot.
Both Ain and Binz were dressed like ordinary civilians, not Marines. Anytime someone looked at Weiwei with bad intentions, they'd shoot sharp glares—or flash a glimpse of their concealed weapons.
They stayed a few meters behind, neither too close nor too far.
At first, they held to Zefa's command. Total silence. Pretend you're invisible. But that didn't last long. Without some form of intervention, this "blind princess" would've walked straight into the ocean.
If she'd just admitted her lack of direction, things might have gone easier. But no—Her Royal Highness insisted her goal was to train swordsmanship by the seaside, letting the waves sharpen her spirit.
Ain had believed her... at first.
Then she watched Weiwei stand silently by the beach for five minutes before turning back inland.
From that point, whenever Weiwei veered too far off-course, Ain would flick a pebble to gently guide her back.
Today marked her first full day away from G2. After wandering all morning, nearly walking into mountains and ocean alike, she finally arrived at dusk in the capital of Lulucia Kingdom.
Achieving inner calm in chaos—this was her first true test. G2 was too disciplined, too clean. The capital, teeming with people and disorder, was the ideal stage.
Weiwei already possessed Armament and Conqueror's Haki, but her ultra-high perception blurred the path to Kenbunshoku. She needed unconventional pressure—mental and physical—to break through.
As soon as she entered the city, she sought crowded areas.
Artisan district? Too few people.
Commercial street? Deserted by evening.
Then, she suddenly veered right. Her bamboo stick tapped twice, and she turned into a narrow lane.
"She's heading there—!" Ain started, but Binz shook his head. She swallowed the words.
Following instinct, Weiwei found herself in the capital's most crowded nighttime hotspot. It was hidden along a narrow backstreet, but somehow packed tighter than any main boulevard: the casino.
"Place your bets!"
"Big! Big! Big!"
"Small, small, small! Three bigs in a row—this one's gotta be small!"
Gamblers' shouts practically rattled the ceiling. Weiwei flinched at the volume. Her fingers itched to draw her blade, but she took a deep breath. This wasn't about silencing noise—it was about finding stillness inside it.
Several casino staff paused in confusion. A blind girl? In here? She's new.
She ignored them. So what if Smoker or Belo Betty would recognize her? These people wouldn't. And even if they did—who cares? If you don't feel ashamed, then the joke's on them.
She listened. Not just to voices, but rhythms, heartbeats, intent.
After pinpointing the cashier, she exchanged a million Berries for chips. Then she turned, "looked" around, and approached a roulette table.
"Huh? Who's that?"
"An acquaintance?"
"A blind girl? Shame, she's a real looker…"
Comments like these followed her everywhere. She'd heard a hundred already today. Her face remained calm. She didn't care.
She placed her first bet.
She wasn't here to win money.
She was here to listen—to everything.