Fujitora stood quietly in the center of Marineford Plaza, cane in hand, appearing like nothing more than an ordinary blind man.
But no one dared to treat him as such—not when he was the man acknowledged by Admiral Purple Kirin, Uchiha Chiga.
As all attendees gathered, the special assessment finally began. Fujitora's opponents stepped forward into the designated area: three seasoned Vice Admirals, each wielding a katana—Momonga, Onigumo, and Doberman.
Veteran officers, all three. Their strength and experience made them ideal to test the true capability of the man Chiga had personally vouched for.
Or so it seemed.
Chiga observed from the stands. His Rinnegan calmly swept across the plaza before he shook his head lightly.
Gion, seated beside him, noticed and asked softly,
"What is it, Chiga? Do you think this test is too much for him?"
Chiga replied calmly,
"On the contrary, it's too easy."
Surprised, Gion turned back toward the field.
"Is Fujitora really that strong?"
"You'll see for yourself."
Finally focusing on the match, Gion leaned forward with interest.
Down below, Fujitora faced the three Vice Admirals. He gave a respectful bow and said in a composed tone,
"Vice Admirals, thank you for taking the time to assess me."
His humility immediately improved the atmosphere. Momonga smiled and answered,
"There's no need for formality. If Admiral Chiga values you, then it's only natural we do this properly."
Onigumo and Doberman said nothing but gave respectful nods.
Fujitora smiled slightly.
"Admiral Chiga is a man worthy of respect. I won't embarrass him. Please, don't hold back."
"Of course," Momonga replied with conviction.
The brief exchange ended, and the air stilled. Tension rose.
Sengoku stood up and gave the signal.
"Begin!"
In an instant, all three Vice Admirals disappeared from their positions using Soru, appearing around Fujitora in a three-point formation. Their swords, coated in Armament Haki, slashed toward him.
Despite the deadly pincer attack, Fujitora stood calm and unmoving. He didn't draw his sword. Instead, he lightly infused his cane with Haki and flicked it outward three times.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Each strike met its mark precisely. The three Vice Admirals were deflected mid-air, forced to land at the corners of the arena, all staring in disbelief.
They looked at Fujitora, still standing in the center, not having moved an inch.
What was even more shocking was the clarity of his defense—without sight, he had countered three high-speed attacks with perfect timing and positioning.
His mastery over Armament Haki was extraordinary, far beyond theirs.
That alone was enough to justify a Vice Admiral rank.
And then they remembered—he was blind.
Each of them subconsciously swallowed. Now, they understood why Chiga had placed his trust in this man. This wasn't just strength—it was refined, terrifying control.
And he hadn't even used his Devil Fruit yet.
"This assessment," they thought in unison, "is far too easy for him."
None of the three moved again. Their katanas remained drawn, but their stance faltered.
Fujitora, realizing they wouldn't act, decided to end it.
He slowly drew his cane sword—only a fraction of it, barely a tenth of the blade.
But even that motion sent a chill through the air. The Vice Admirals immediately raised their weapons in defense, their instincts screaming at them.
It was futile.
Fujitora spoke softly,
"Hell's Journey."
Boom!
An invisible weight slammed onto the plaza like a mountain. The three Vice Admirals dropped to their knees, their weapons sinking into the ground as if the world had doubled in gravity.
But Fujitora wasn't finished.
He whispered,
"The battle is over."
With a soft click, he resheathed the cane sword.
The ground beneath the three Vice Admirals erupted. A deep, square crater formed beneath them, swallowing them whole.
A silence swept across Marineford.
The sheer destructive force was jaw-dropping. The earth was cracked and crushed inward. The impact resembled something from a Logia-type fruit—but this was Paramecia.
Even Akainu and the other Admirals stood up, eyes narrowed, watching the man in the center of the crater with new respect.
Tsuru exhaled slowly, her sharp eyes fixed on the battlefield.
"An overwhelming display... That's the Gravity Fruit, isn't it?"
Sengoku nodded, voice thoughtful.
"In terms of raw destructive power, this fruit ranks among the top Paramecia. And in the hands of someone like him... even more terrifying."
Tsuru looked toward Chiga.
"It's fortunate that you brought him in. If he'd joined the Pirates instead..."
On Chiga's side, Gion was already poking his arm with curiosity.
"Chiga, how did you even convince someone like him to join the Navy?"
Chiga smiled faintly, his tone casual,
"I just asked. He said yes."
"That's it?" Gion blinked.
"That's it. Maybe... it was because I was the one who asked."
Gion blinked again, then gave a quiet chuckle. She had to admit—if she had been approached by the strongest Admiral in the Navy, she probably wouldn't hesitate either.
Back in the crater, Fujitora raised a hand. A soft rumble echoed across the arena as three spiked mounds of earth lifted the buried Vice Admirals up.
Bruised, panting, and exhausted, all three emerged. Momonga, slightly better off than the others, looked at Fujitora and gave him a thumbs-up.
The result was clear.
Victory: Fujitora. Complete and unquestionable.
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