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The West Blue was dominated by the Capone Family, a syndicate that controlled nearly all the gang forces in the region. At the heart of their influence stood the Capone Casino, a 24-hour hotspot bustling with life day and night.
The casino wasn't just famous for its gambling and entertainment; it also hosted the black boxing matches, one of West Blue's most notorious attractions. These nightly events drew roaring crowds, with excitement reaching its peak during the matches. Every participant in the black boxing ring was either a veteran fighter or an up-and-coming star, and the appearance fees alone ran close to a million berries. With such high stakes, the casino proudly boasted "the most exciting fights in all of West Blue."
Despite the fanfare, Alex found himself unimpressed after watching several rounds, seeing no promising talent to recruit. Disinterested, he turned his attention away from the event and began to leave.
As he reached the casino's entrance, his gaze fell on a man stepping inside—a middle-aged figure with short black hair, dressed in a lavender yukata and Japanese-style clogs, holding a wooden staff.
Alex immediately recognized him. This was the man he had been waiting for.
The man was Issho, later known as Fujitora, a powerful warrior destined to become one of the three Marine Admirals within two years of the Summit War in the original timeline. For now, however, he was an figure wandering the seas. Alex had learned about Issho's presence here through intelligence gathered by Catarina. Acting quickly, he traveled straight to West Blue to intercept him before the World Government could take notice.
The Sky Kingdom's internal construction and regional management didn't require Alex's constant attention, leaving him free to pursue this opportunity. Issho's incredible strength and moral conviction made him worth the trip, even if it meant interrupting his more "enjoyable" pursuits back home.
But Alex didn't approach Issho right away. Instead, he observed the man as he sat at a gambling table and began rolling dice.
Before long, as expected in such a setting, a dispute broke out.
From the darker corners of the casino, a group of thugs emerged, their presence turning the heated gambling hall into a brewing storm. The commotion quickly drew the attention of the surrounding crowd, even distracting them from the black boxing matches.
The middle-aged man at the center of the dispute, with his heavily scarred face and blind eyes, became the focus of every curious gaze. A murmur rippled through the spectators—most of whom seemed eager to witness the unfolding drama.
One of the thugs, a muscular man with a mohawk and sinewy arms, barked at the crowd.
"Everyone, take a look at this old blind fool! Loses his bets and then has the gall to accuse us of cheating?! What a joke!"
The thug's sneer widened as he pointed at Issho. "Why should we pay for his loss, huh? Does he think we owe him something? Blind or not, you're not walking out of here scot-free!"
The crowd murmured in agreement, their curiosity tinged with disdain.
Issho's expression remained calm, a faint, knowing smile crossing his face. Despite his blindness, his serene demeanor and confident posture suggested that his vision transcended sight itself.
"Though my eyes cannot see," Issho said with a polite shake of his head, "I am not blind to what is truly happening. Gambling is meant to be an act of mutual enjoyment. But since you refuse to admit the truth, I won't argue further. However, I do ask that we leave this matter here and not let it escalate further."
His words were measured and calm, but as he moved to vacate his seat, he miraculously avoided bumping into obstacles, navigating the table with an almost supernatural awareness.
The thugs, however, were not ready to let him go.
Blocking Issho's path, the mohawked man stepped forward with a derisive laugh.
"Leaving so soon, old man? No way! If we let a blind fool like you walk out after bad-mouthing our casino, what kind of message does that send? You think you can frame us and just walk away? Not a chance!"
Issho sighed, his voice calm yet tinged with finality. He lifted his cane, and with a swift motion, revealed a blade hidden within the staff. For a moment, a faint glimmer seemed to flash in his cloudy, unseeing eyes.
"Hell Journey!"
Boom!
A deafening roar filled the casino as an invisible force erupted. The thugs, who had been jeering moments earlier, were suddenly crushed under an overwhelming pressure. It felt as though an immense, invisible boulder had descended upon them.
The casino's polished mahogany floor buckled under the strain, splintering apart and forming a large crater. The thugs were pinned inside, immobilized and gasping for air, their strength entirely sapped.
With the thugs neutralized, Issho calmly slid the blade back into his cane and used it once more as a walking stick. Turning, he began to walk away with measured steps, unbothered by the remaining thugs who had gathered to assist their comrades. None dared to step forward.
The sheer display of power had left them paralyzed with fear. It was clear this man was no ordinary opponent, and his abilities were likely tied to a Devil Fruit—an unthinkable force of nature for most in West Blue.
In the corner, Alex observed the scene, his expression unreadable. As Issho exited the casino, Alex followed, removing the mask he had been wearing and casually discarding it.
Despite his blindness, Issho's mastery of Observation Haki had reached unparalleled levels. Unable to rely on his eyes, he had developed his perceptive abilities to a terrifying extent. While he hadn't yet attained the legendary ability to hear the Voice of All Things, he could clearly "see" the shapes of objects, the colors of people's emotions, and even the sounds of their thoughts.
It was no surprise, then, that Issho had already sensed Alex's presence and intent.
However, Issho did not look back. He continued walking, his pace unhurried, until he reached the edge of town. Only then did he stop, pausing in a quiet corner.
Without turning around, Issho spoke. "I wonder—what is your purpose in following me?"
Alex halted, a smile spreading across his face. "I'm certain you already know what I'm thinking."
The words were deliberate, a nod to Issho's advanced Haki. Alex had refrained from using Conqueror's Haki to suppress Issho's sensory abilities, making it clear he wanted to communicate openly.
Issho stood in contemplative silence for a moment. A faint look of resignation crossed his face before he asked, "Who are you, exactly?"
"Alex," came the calm reply. "And I'm here because of your abilities."
At this, Issho froze, his expression shifting to one of surprise and disbelief. In an instant, he understood Alex's earlier words and realized the depth of the man's perception.
Issho slowly turned to face Alex, making no attempt to prepare for a fight. Despite Alex's reputation as the strongest individual in the world, Issho could sense no hostility emanating from him.
"I appreciate your interest," Issho said after a long pause, his tone sincere yet firm. "But I'm afraid I have no intention of joining any force right now."