The acrid smell of gunpowder hung heavy in the air. The final desperate gambit of Krieg's pirates played out before my eyes.
Their makeshift raft, cobbled from the wreckage of their once-mighty fleet, limped toward the Baratie like a wounded beast seeking its last meal.
'And the old me thought my school life was a battlefield.'
At least there, the worst I'd get was social ostracism. Here, a single mistake meant bleeding out on a wooden deck.
The bulk of Krieg's forces had been whittled down to this final desperate push.
Bodies and the injured pirates floated in the water around us. The sight should have bothered me more than it did. But two years in this world had taught me to compartmentalize such things.
'Survival first, existential crisis later. That's the Hikigaya way, apparently.'
As the raft drew closer, I could see the desperation in the pirates' eyes. These were the cocky raiders who'd initially approached the Baratie with swagger and bravado.
And now, they were reduced to cornered animals, and cornered animals were the most dangerous kind.
The moment the makeshift raft reached the restaurant, both sides stopped firing simultaneously, as if responding to some unspoken signal.
It was not by coincidence, it is just that both sides realized that if they were about to clash, continuing to use firearms would mean more instances of friendly fire.
The sudden silence was almost deafening after the constant barrage of gunfire.
'Even in the middle of a life-or-death battle, there are unwritten rules. How very human of us.'
Some pirates, perhaps thinking they were clever, tried to jump from the raft before it collided with the Baratie. Because there is always someone who thinks they can outsmart the system.
But we'd planned for this. Sanji and I had positioned ourselves to intercept exactly this kind of maneuver.
PANG!
SLASH!
"AHHH!!"
"OOHH!!"
We kicked and slashed at them respectively, sending them back to the water.
"Here they come!" one of the cooks shouted from behind us.
"Let's show these bastards what happens when they mess with our restaurant!" Patty roared, his voice carrying over the chaos.
"Ready, cook?" I asked Sanji, flaunting my sword.
"Always," he replied, lighting his cigarette with practiced ease. "Just try to keep up."
The collision sound was tremendous.
CRASH!
The sound of splintering wood and groaning metal filled the air as the makeshift raft slammed into the restaurant's hull. The impact sent vibrations through the deck beneath my feet. But I had adjusted my stance and maintained balance.
'Two years of sailing and I still hate the feeling of an unstable deck.'
That was our cue. Sanji and I led the charge, with the rest of the cooks following behind us like a small army of very angry food service workers.
'This would be a good idea for a video game…'
"You picked the wrong restaurant to mess with!" Sanji snarled as he launched into his first kick.
My Mantra was already sending warnings.
Three pirates moving in from the left, two from the right, one trying to flank us from behind. Like reading a poorly written playbook.
'Do they teach basic tactics in pirate school, or is mindless charging the only strategy they know?'
"Take this!" the first pirate yelled, swinging an expensive-looking cutlass at my head.
"Behind him!" another shouted to his comrade.
"Get the one in the cloak!" a third pirate screamed.
Sanji moved with fluid grace, his legs becoming weapons of precise devastation.
WHAM!
CRACK!
THUD!
His kicks found their marks with surgical precision, sending pirates flying through the air like ragdolls.
Each impact was accompanied by the satisfying sound of connection – boot meeting flesh, boot meeting bone.
The man fought like he was cooking, with passion and artistry that bordered on the sublime.
"Collier Shoot!" Sanji called out, his leg connecting with a pirate's neck.
"Ugh!" the pirate grunted as he flew backward.
I moved alongside him, my Gryffindor sword cutting through the air with deadly efficiency.
SLASH!
WHOOSH!
CLANG!
Each swing was calculated, each movement designed to maximize damage while minimizing my own exposure. The pirates' crude cutlasses met my blade with the sound of inferior metal against superior craftsmanship.
"What the hell is that sword made of?" one pirate gasped, looking at his broken weapon.
"It cut right through my blade!" another exclaimed.
Together, we managed to halt the momentum of the pirates' charge. Bodies went flying, some unconscious, others groaning in pain.
'And here I thought the most violent thing I'd do today was critique someone's cooking.'
But the sight of our effectiveness was oddly satisfying. There was something to be said for being good at what you do, even when what you do is combat.
"Nice work," Sanji said, kicking another pirate in the face.
"Likewise," I replied, parrying a desperate slash.
'Now for the real work.'
With the initial wave broken, I took a deep breath and channeled Hamon into my sword.
The blade began to glow with a silver hue, the energy crackling along its edge like captured lightning.
The most fascinating thing about the Gryffindor sword for me was its amazing ability to conduct and store Hamon at a staggering 100%.
Adding its powerful cutting ability, it makes it into an invaluable item for me.
"What the hell is that thing?" one pirate stammered, pointing at my sword.
"It's glowing! He's a demon!" another shouted.
"Don't let him touch you with that cursed blade!" a third pirate yelled, though his voice cracked with fear.
"Is that... is that the Dead-Eyes Hikigaya?" someone whispered.
"The Sorcerer!" another pirate gasped.
'Really? A cursed blade? That's the best they can come up with?'
I prepared to move, observing their fearful expressions with detached interest.
I moved between the pirates with light steps, my Mantra allowing me to read their movements before they made them.
Five slashes incoming.
/Overhead slash/ from the bearded one.
/A slash to his Left side/ from the skinny guy.
/A slash to his right side/ from the one with the bandana.
/Low sweep/ from the short one.
/A thrust at his head/ from the nervous guy in the back.
Five slashes came at me simultaneously from exactly where my Mantra had predicted.
'Predictable, so much so that I almost didn't need the Mantra. Scared men always resort to the same basic attacks.'
I dodged them all with fluid grace, my cloak billowing around me like I was performing some elaborate dance.
"He's fast!" the bearded pirate grunted.
"Too fast!" the skinny one agreed.
"How is he dodging our blades?" the one with the bandana asked frantically.
My counter-slashes were swift and precise.
SLICE SLICE SLICE!
WHOOSH!
SLICE!
THUD!
Each cut was delivered with different applications of Hamon, each one tailored to achieve maximum effect with minimum effort.
'Why use brute force when you can use mystics? Well, pseudo-mystics. Supernatural energy dressed up as magic. But they don't need to know that.'
The pirates didn't feel anything at first when my blade touched them.
But not even a moment later, they began falling one after another.
"GAAAAHHH!!!"
"OHAAAHHH!!!"
"AAAAAHHA!!!"
The first started bleeding from every orifice, the Hamon disrupting his circulatory system.
The second simply collapsed unconscious, his nervous system temporarily overwhelmed.
The third began convulsing as electrical signals misfired throughout his body.
The fourth was launched backward as if hit by a cannonball, the repelling force of Hamon sending him flying.
The fifth developed a sword gash across his back as he fell, the delayed cutting effect finally manifesting.
The pirates took a step back at the sight, muttering things like 'He cursed them' and 'fucking sorcerer', which I honestly had enough of.
"What did he do to them?"
"He didn't even cut them!"
"It's black magic, I tell you!!"
"The Dead-Eyes Hikigaya really is a sorcerer!"
"We're all gonna die!" one pirate screamed.
"He's not human!" another wailed.
Really, was it too much to ask for a little intellectual curiosity? Instead of assuming supernatural causes, maybe they could appreciate the elegant application of the supernatural energy.
'But no, it was always "sorcery this" and "dark magic that."'
Two years of being called a sorcerer, and I still find it tedious.
I continued my advance, applying different effects with my Hamon-enhanced sword. Some pirates tried to avoid my blade entirely, dancing away with exaggerated movements.
But it was useless - I was faster than them. My Mantra let me predict their movements, and my enhanced speed let me close the distance before they could react.
ZOOM!
SLASH!
CRASH!
Each engagement ended the same way – with another pirate on the ground, wondering what had hit him.
"Run!" one pirate shouted.
"He's too fast!" another cried.
"We can't escape him!" a third wailed.
Others picked up shields from their fallen comrades, thinking crude metal would protect them from my blade.
"Shields up! Block his cursed sword!" one of them shouted desperately.
It was equally useless. My Hamon still passed through their shields.
The ripples didn't care about physical barriers when properly applied.
CLANG!
CLANG!!!
CLANG!!!!
CLANG!!
I slashed with my sword across their shields, then I watched with detached interest as the pirates who raised their shields confidently—
"AHHHH!!!"
"EEHHHH!!"
"AAARRGG!!!"
"AAAAHHH!!"
—Collapsed moments later when the Hamon reached them despite their defenses, as sword gashes appeared on their bodies, even when I didn't touch them.
"How is he doing that?!"
"The shields aren't working!"
"He's cutting right through them!"
"This is impossible!" one pirate screamed, dropping his shield in terror.
"Damn it!" another sobbed.
My Mantra conveyed warnings, and some pirates tried to gang up on me, thinking superior numbers would overwhelm my defenses.
Six pirates surrounded me, their killing intent focused like laser beams.
/The big one with the scar plans to swing high/
/The twins want to attack from both sides simultaneously/
/The limping one thinks he can catch me off-guard with a low strike/
/And the leader is coordinating a pincer movement with the eye-patch one/
'Amateur mistake. Haven't they been watching?'
My sword only swung once—
CLANG!
RING!
SPARKS!
The sound of multiple weapons meeting one blade created a symphony of metal on metal.
—And I stopped all of their cutlasses at once, with my Mantra reading their attack patterns, and positioning my blade to intercept them all in a single, flashy sword move.
"What?! How did he—" the scarred pirate gasped.
"He stopped all of us at once!" one of the twins shouted.
"This is impossible!" the limping pirate stammered.
"Six against one and he still..." the leader trailed off in disbelief.
'Not only that.'
Then my sword flashed for a moment, and with the repelling ability of Hamon, I pushed them all away like they were hit with a shockwave.
WHOOSH!
VOOOOOO!
The force sent them flying backward, arms windmilling as they tried to regain their balance.
Before they could hit the surface of the raft,
SLASH!
WHISTLE!
THUD!
I delivered fast sword slashes to each of them.
They were all still alive, but with injuries like these, they were unlikely to continue fighting.
"Incredible..." one of the cooks in the first line breathed.
"He's taking them all down single-handedly," another cook murmured.
I looked to the side, and found Sanji also wreaking havoc like me with fast, precise, and flashy kicks, finding the faces of the pirates and sending them flying.
His legs moved like pistons, delivering force with mechanical precision.
CRACK!
WHOMP!
THUD!
While he was doing his job properly, I could easily say he was showing off.
'And it looked like he was keeping an eye on me from the corner of his eye.'
Professional curiosity, perhaps? Or just making sure I wasn't about to do something that would endanger the restaurant.
"Mouton Shot!" Sanji called out, his kick sending a pirate flying.
"Ooof!" the pirate grunted as he sailed through the air.
As for any pirate that had passed through us, the tough cooks like Patty took care of them efficiently. These weren't ordinary restaurant workers, thankfully– they were veterans who'd seen their share of conflicts.
WHAM!
WHAM!
CRACK!
SLASH!
THUD!
The sound of their improvised weapons meeting pirate flesh was oddly satisfying. There's something to be said for people who know how to defend what's theirs.
"Take this!" Patty roared, swinging his massive ladle.
"And this!" another cook shouted, brandishing a meat cleaver.
"You messed with the wrong restaurant!" a third cook yelled.
But suddenly, my Mantra screamed a warning.
I heard the voice of Patty and four other cooks scream from a hit, then the sound of a massive body approaching from behind, a long arm extending at its full length, killing intent focused on my head.
I avoided a very long arm trying to strike me with a small shield. The attack came from an unexpected angle.
Taking a step back and looking at the assailant, it turned out to be Pearl, the self-proclaimed Iron Wall himself. He stood before me with a confident and condescending expression.
"Stop playing with boring mobs and play with me instead," he said, his voice dripping with arrogance.
'Oh, wonderful. The mini-boss wants to have a chat.'
His tone suggested he thought this would be easy, that I was just some lucky amateur who'd gotten in over his head.
"You think you're hot shit, don't you?" Pearl continued, cracking his knuckles. "Let me show you what real power looks like."
"Is that so?" I replied, adjusting my grip on my sword. "I'm always interested in educational demonstrations."
He launched a fast punch at me, which I avoided easily with my Mantra. The attack was straightforward, telegraphed well in advance.
I noticed that Pearl's arm was really long, and if you looked closely, you would find that although he looked thin from far away, the guy's arm was actually full of muscles.
The deception was clever – it appeared weak while concealing significant strength.
'Adding to that the strange-looking small shield he was using like a knuckle, and I imagine that a hit from this guy won't be pleasant.'
"What?!" Pearl exclaimed, surprised by my easy dodge.
"You missed," I observed dryly.
"Lucky dodge!" he snarled.
Seeing that I'd avoided his punches easily, he took a stance like a boxer, then proceeded to launch a fast and powerful sequence of punches at me.
WHOOSH WHOOSH!!
WHIFF!
WHOOSH!
His fists cut through the air with impressive speed, each punch carrying enough force to break a wall.
'But without accuracy, it was just wasted energy.'
My Mantra was painting a clear picture
/Left hook aimed at his ribs/
/Right straight for his face/
/Uppercut targeting his chin/
/A fast feint left hook at his face/
/Then a real right cross at his temple/
As I could read all the trajectories of the punches with my Mantra, I calmly and agilely avoided the punches he threw at me.
My cloak billowed around me as I moved, creating an almost hypnotic effect.
For the onlookers, it looked like I was dancing with a cloak and a wizard hat, and Pearl was here to make a fool of himself.
The contrast was probably striking – his aggressive, straightforward attacks against my fluid, almost artistic evasions.
'Actually, I was just buying time for Sanji and the rest to finish up the last of the pirates.'
There was no point in ending this quickly when I could use Pearl's single-minded focus to my advantage.
"What's wrong?" I asked casually, sidestepping another punch. "Are you having trouble hitting someone who's not tied down?"
"Damn you!" Pearl snarled, his frustration bleeding through. "Stop running around like a coward!"
"I'm not running," I replied, ducking under a wild haymaker. "I'm just not standing still for you to hit me. There's a difference."
"Fight me properly!" he roared.
"I am fighting properly," I said, weaving between his punches. "You're just not very good at this."
WHOOSH WHOOSH WHOOSH WHOOSH!!!
WHIFF WHIFF!!!
WHOOSH WHOOSH!!
This continued even when Pearl got more irritated, starting to use trickier trajectories for his punches, and he used more feints.
He'd start a punch in one direction, then redirect it at the last second, hoping to catch me off guard.
/A fake a right hook then go for a left uppercut/
/Straight jab then switching to a wild swing at the last second/
I was still able to avoid them all without issues, and honestly, I felt really proud of myself inside.
Two years of training and practical application were paying off.
"You bastard!" Pearl roared, sweat dripping from his forehead. "Fight me seriously!"
"I am fighting seriously," I said, tilting my head to avoid another punch. "This is what serious looks like when you're not an amateur."
"Stop mocking me!" he screamed.
"I'm not mocking you," I replied calmly. "It is just observations."
"ARRRRGG!! STOP RUNNING AWAY, YOU COWARD!"
This continued until Pearl shouted at me to stop running away, as he threw a very heavy punch.
The frustration in his voice was palpable. He'd probably never encountered someone who could so effortlessly avoid his attacks.
"Is that so?" I replied, raising my sword in a reverse grip to block his shield-armed punch easily.
CLANG!
CRACK!
The makeshift raft cracked under my legs from the power of the impact, splinters flying in all directions.
Pearl was surprised that I was able to block his punch like that. The shock was written clearly on his face – he'd expected his superior strength to overwhelm me.
"What?!" he started.
And before he could think, I used the Hamon in my sword to repel the shielded fist like it was a shockwave.
BOOM!
WHOOSH!
The force sent his arm flying backward, leaving him wide open and totally unbalanced.
"How did you—" Pearl gasped but stopped mid-question, as he saw me flash inside his range.
'Hamon—Ghost Cutter!'
SLASH!
With Pearl's defenses down, I moved into his range and made a wide slash across his strange, round shield-like armor.
WHOOSH!
A powerful gust of air erupted from all around me because of my sudden fast movement, my cloak snapping like a flag in a hurricane.
The movement was so swift that it created a visible disturbance in the air around me.
SPRUT!
The shield-like armor of Pearl looked fine on the surface, but underneath it, a gash from my sword appeared.
"AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!"
Pearl's cry of pain was immediate and intense as he fell to his knees, clutching at the wound. The Hamon had passed through his armor as if it weren't there, delivering its cutting effect directly to his flesh beneath.
"Ho...how…did…you…?" Pearl gasped
"Magic," I said dryly. "Or so I'm told."
The moment that Pearl fell to his knees, I saw something flying toward me.
Something large, moving fast, and entirely uncontrolled
A human body, no killing intent... just unfortunate trajectory.
It was Luffy who was thrown away by a large war mace.
The rubber man spun through the air like a ball, his limbs flailing as he tried to regain control.
"Whoa-Whoa-Waaa!" Luffy shouted as he flew through the air.
I avoided him in time, sidestepping with practiced ease.
CRASH!
BOUNCE!
Luffy took the fall like it was nothing with his rubber body, bouncing once before springing back to his feet with that characteristic grin.
'Only he would treat being thrown like a projectile as a minor inconvenience.'
"Whew, that was close! I almost fell into the sea!" Luffy laughed, dusting himself off. "Hey, you're pretty good with that sword!"
"Yeah…Practice makes perfect, I guess." I replied.
Which is true. I only learned the basics for a few months at the sword Dojo, the rest was me practicing it against pirates.
The chief instructor in the Dojo—a former Marine, from what I heard—told me that I only need to learn the basics if I am not planning to follow the path of the sword fully, as I will develop my fighting style as I fight more.
And he was right, as I leaned more to using my sword with the Hamon and Mantra.
So if I were to classify my sword fighting style, it would be something like a Magic Swordsmanship.
'But something is telling me that he recognized my Mantra.' And I don't think it was just a feeling.
'Sigh, looks like I really need that Logbook, I hope it has the information I need.'
"Can you teach me how to do that glowing thing with the sword? It was really like magic!" beside me, Luffy asked eagerly like a child.
"It's…complicated," I said, not really wanting to explain Hamon to a rubber man.
'And most likely he won't be able to use it like the rest of the people in this world.'
Why is that? I don't know. And this is not the time for that…
I looked at the one who had thrown him, and it was Don Krieg, who was glaring murder at me. His expression suggested he'd realized exactly why his carefully laid plans had failed.
My Mantra tells me his rage is focused entirely on me now.
'He's recognized that I'm the variable he didn't account for.'
The calculation was visible in his eyes – he was reassessing the situation, trying to figure out how one cloaked figure had managed to disrupt his entire operation.
"You..." Krieg snarled, pointing his war mace at me. "You're the one who's been ruining everything!"
"I have been told that I have this effect on people," I replied dryly.
"You insolent—" he started.
"Oi!" Luffy interrupted, cracking his knuckles. "I'm not done with you yet!"
But before any of us could say anything more—
"RRRAAAAAHHHAAAHHA!!!"
—Suddenly, a loud roar sounded from Pearl, who stood up roaring and screaming unintelligible things with his hands up in the air.
The sound was primal, filled with pain and rage.
"AAAAHHHHH! PAIN! FIRE! FIRE! BURN EVERYTHING!" Pearl screamed, his voice cracking with hysteria.
"Pearl-san, no!" one of the pirates shouted. "Not the fire! You'll burn us all!"
"Get back! Everyone get back!" another pirate yelled.
"He's lost control!" Krieg roared, his own voice tinged with concern. "Pearl, calm down!"
"Pearl-san! Stop!" a pirate pleaded. "Please don't do it!!"
"Run for your lives!" a pirate screamed, diving overboard.
"I can't swim!" another wailed.
"This is insane!" a third shouted.
"Somebody do something!" another cried.
"What's happening to him?" Luffy asked, staring at the writhing figure.
"Nothing good," I replied as I had a bad feeling, grabbing him from his red vest and shoving him behind me as I raised my cloak.
"FIRE! FIRE!! FIREEE!!!!!" Pearl screamed, completely beyond reason now.
CRACKLE!
SIZZLE!
WHRROOSH!!!
And if that was not enough, his strange shields like armor suddenly ignited with intense fire, with blazing projectiles flying everywhere from him.
The flames erupted from his body like he was some kind of human volcano, turning him into a living inferno. Burning projectiles shot out in all directions, setting the makeshift raft ablaze and forcing everyone to scramble for cover.
…
A/N: Well, that's it for today. I hope you liked the feel of the Hamon Swordsmanship.
Of course, there is much more to it, but Hachiman isn't the type to use everything at once.
Anyway, Thank you all for reading! Hope you enjoyed this one!
You also can check my Patre0n for extra Chapters.
https://www.patre0n.com/ColdColt