Time flies. For those past middle age, a month often feels like the blink of an eye.
For Tsugikuni Yoriichi, it was even more so.
November, deep into late autumn.
Yet on the Boin Archipelago, it still felt like the height of summer.
Today's heat was especially oppressive. Thick clouds blanketed the sky, trapping in the sweltering humidity, each breath heavy and stifling.
Suddenly, on the vast open sea, a Navy warship broke across the horizon, speeding toward the eastern island of the Boin Archipelago.
At that moment, a low hum echoed from the island's core. A slash of energy erupted from its center, rising like a roaring dragon into the sky. In a blink, it cleaved the thick clouds above clean in two.
The massive cloud cover, as if sliced open by an invisible blade, split to reveal a kilometer-wide gap. Blazing sunlight poured through the opening, bathing the island in golden brilliance.
At the bow of the warship, a tall naval officer in his early thirties stood, staring at the phenomenon with wide eyes, his expression frozen in awe.
After a long pause, he muttered under his breath, "…That's terrifying."
Back on the island, Yoriichi sheathed his blade before the corpse of a giant bear, its massive body split cleanly in two.
Lifting his gaze toward the newly opened sky, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
In just one month, his strength had surged to an entirely new level. This rapid improvement mirrored the exhilarating sensation he had felt when he first grasped the powers of Haki and the Six Styles.
Training was addictive.
"Every day brings progress. Compared to before, my body has clearly grown stronger."
"But I mustn't grow complacent."
"There are still warriors out there whose strength far surpasses mine."
The smile faded. As elating as this growth was, the thought of clashing with true powerhouses—those whose Conqueror's Haki alone could tear the sky asunder—snapped him back to reality.
As Zephyr often reminded him, he was still far from the summit.
Stepping over the bear's carcass, Yoriichi turned toward his shelter.
He had lived on this island for a full month now and had fully surveyed its environment. His shelter was carved into a seaside cliff, facing the open sea.
He had dug a small cave into the cliff with his bare hands. At night, he sealed the entrance with a thick timber, leaving only a narrow air vent.
This way, even if the infamous Baron of the Belly came hunting at night, he wouldn't end up as dinner inside its stomach.
The cliffside served two purposes: First, its sparse vegetation and distance from the Forest of Temptation kept strange beasts at bay. Second, the open ocean in front was the perfect training ground, capable of absorbing the full force of his techniques.
Whenever he grew tired, Yoriichi would head into the Forest of Temptation to hunt and replenish his strength, returning to the seaside afterward to continue training.
For the entire month, his life had followed this simple two-point rhythm. Though the Boin Archipelago contained nine islands, Yoriichi had explored only this one.
He had no intention of moving on to the others until he had exhausted all the resources here.
Just as he approached his shelter, his sharp eyes caught a warship rapidly closing in from the sea.
Narrowing his gaze, he noticed the insignia painted on its sail:
"G-18."
"G-18? That's a warship from the New World."
"Has it already been a month? Did Master Zephyr send this?"
Navy ships always carried identification codes. Ships patrolling the Four Seas typically bore letters, E, W, N, S, marking their regions.
But New World warships were marked with a G.
There were exceptions, of course. For example, Garp's ship ignored the system entirely. Apart from its iconic dog-head figurehead, it flew the custom HQ-3 mark.
So it was quite unusual to see a New World-coded ship like G-18 here in the first half of the Grand Line.
"Bloop bloop~"
"Bloop bloop~"
Yoriichi's Den Den Mushi began to ring. He retrieved it and held the receiver to his ear, a faint smile forming as he answered:
"Master Zephyr, is school slow today? Calling me right at noon?"
Over the past month, Zephyr had called him every few days, checking in on his health and training progress.
But this was the first time he'd contacted him at this hour.
Except, the voice that answered wasn't Zephyr's deep, gravelly "Jiraiya" tone.
"Moshi moshi."
A lazy, flippant voice greeted him instead.
Yoriichi frowned slightly and glanced down at the Den Den Mushi.
It had changed, its features no longer resembled Zephyr's. Now, it wore a sly, lecherous grin.
"Moshi moshi," the voice repeated.
Just as Yoriichi was about to respond...
Zzzt!
A dazzling beam of light flashed from the approaching warship's bow, blasting into the ground behind him.
At the same time, the same lazy voice sounded out—from directly behind him:
"Moshi moshi. I am Vice Admiral Borsalino of Navy Headquarters."
"Can you hear me? Moshi moshi~?"
Yoriichi's expression froze.
He turned sharply.
Behind him stood a tall Navy officer in a yellow-striped suit, holding a Den Den Mushi with red markings in one hand and the receiver in the other.
Though still speaking into the device, Borsalino's eyes were locked on Yoriichi, calmly and curiously sizing up the young swordsman before him.
"I am Tsugikuni Yoriichi," Yoriichi said, returning the greeting through the Den Den Mushi before slipping it away. Then he faced Borsalino directly—and smiled.
In the next instant, his expression sharpened.
He drew his long blade.
In a single breath, he was already before Borsalino, bringing the sword down—not with the edge, but with the flat of the blade.
The strike, reinforced by Busoshoku Haki, was powerful, swift, and completely controlled.
"Yoriichi Tsugikuni is scary fast…"
Borsalino muttered softly as his body burst into radiant particles of light.
Before the blade could land, he vanished from the spot, reappearing two meters away. Glancing back at Yoriichi, he murmured with faint amusement and genuine awe:
"He dodged it… faster than Kuzan. If it had been Kuzan, he wouldn't have made it out in time."
Yoriichi now stood where Borsalino had been. He turned his head slowly, watching the admiral with keen interest.
That light-speed movement… just how fast was he?
Still, he offered a warm, courteous smile.
"Hello, Vice Admiral Borsalino. My apologies, that was instinct."
"I'm not used to people standing behind me."
*********
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