Early the next morning.
Trace woke from a nightmare, startled.
On instinct, he drew a reverse cross over his chest—a habit now—and thanked whatever forces kept him alive for yet another day. Of course, he also offered a quick prayer for "Teacher Kaido" in the sky above.
After taking care of breakfast, he strapped on his [Gas Mask] and clipped the jade-green [Bamboo Muzzle] to his waist. Standing just beneath the cellar's trapdoor, he activated a familiar breathing technique.
"Beast Breathing – Seventh Form: Spatial Awareness!"
With a breath, Trace swept the surrounding streets of his third hideout with his enhanced senses.
"No large clusters of zombies detected! It's safe to head out!"
Exiting Spatial Awareness, he silently pushed open the cellar's hatch, passed through the backyard, and stepped into the ruins of the medieval-style town. It was time for today's round of zombie hunting.
Before setting out, Trace glanced up to check the status of the battle raging in the skies.
Strangely enough...
He felt like it wasn't quite as intense as the previous days.
"Guess that's... a good thing?"
He muttered, but didn't dwell on it long.
After yesterday's [Fishing] disaster—blowing through all his "Victory Bait" and pulling only Nezuko's Bamboo Muzzle—Trace was flat out of resources. He needed to restock bait immediately.
Weak as he was, he couldn't afford to miss any chance at survival.
"Is Lady Luck... flat-chested today?"
He pulled up his personal stat screen and scowled.
"Luck: D... tch."
Closing the interface, Trace hefted his war hammer and began his daily grind.
Thanks to three days of non-stop zombie encounters, he'd gotten quite efficient at dealing with the slow-moving, sound-sensitive undead. As long as he stayed far from the towering, mutated ones—especially those hulking beasts in the town square—he could smash regular zombies with ease.
And sure enough, the sky battle remained quiet.
By noon, Trace had already racked up five zombie kills, earning five F-rank Victory Baits, and not once had the heavenly crossfire interrupted him.
It was starting to feel like Lady Luck had... flattened out.
But every time he checked his interface, it was clear—
She was still that wicked, voluptuous D-cup demon.
Feeling the growing fluency in his [Beast Breathing], Trace pulled a strip of dried jerky from his pocket and chewed slowly, replenishing some energy after the skirmishes.
As for yesterday's Tanjiro's Rice Ball?
He ate it for breakfast.
Ordinary. But filling.
After three straight days of warzone fallout, the zombie population in the town had thinned considerably. Thanks to Trace's meticulous "mop-up" efforts, most of the undead near Hideout #3 were gone. He'd need to find a new spot soon to continue bait farming.
If the whole town's undead were cleared and the sky battle still hadn't ended...
Then Trace might be forced to explore deeper into the island—into other settlements filled with the (un)dead.
Luckily, there were still a few streets left.
Finishing the last bite of jerky, Trace climbed the tallest building nearby. He pulled out a slightly rusted brass spyglass, extended it, and scanned the town for promising new hunting grounds.
[Spatial Awareness] was great—
But Trace couldn't afford to always burn energy on it. Not yet, at least.
Just as he adjusted the lens toward the outskirts...
He saw something strange.
A white, smoky mass crawling across the ground.
"Is that... smoke crawling on the ground?"
Frowning, Trace rubbed his eyes and refocused. Then he spotted it: half a man's body flying through the air, leading the smoky trail.
A young man. Only half a torso. Gray-white short hair. Muscular build.
"…Smoke… Wait a second."
"Isn't that Smoker, the Marine from the original?! Logia-type, Smoke-Smoke Fruit user?!"
Trace observed carefully.
Sure enough—
The figure zipping around the wastelands outside the town, taking out zombies and zombie-beasts alike, was none other than Smoker.
Nobody else chain-smoked two cigars at once like a madman!
Behind Smoker was a squad of Marine recruits—a small unit sweeping the area.
That meant...
The person fighting Kaido in the sky wasn't some mystery "Super Pirate."
It was a Marine Admiral—
"Black Arm" Zephyr!
Trace's eyes widened.
"Wait—so it's been the Marines this whole time?"
---
A Quick Note:
Zephyr wasn't supposed to be fighting Kaido.
He hadn't lost his mind and come to pick a fight with a Yonko just for fun.
Zephyr and his unit had been deployed to this zombie-infested island to purge it. The former "owner" of the island was a twisted biologist and Paramecia-type Virus-Virus Fruit user named...
Muzan.
Worse still?
Muzan had a personal connection to Kaido.
He wasn't just Kaido's former comrade—
He was a fellow Oni.
One of the very few Oni still alive in the seas.
When Muzan saw the Marines arriving, he immediately called Kaido using a Den Den Mushi.
But Kaido, lounging somewhere in the New World, took his time.
By the time he arrived?
Muzan had already been captured.
So Kaido went straight to the skies—
And picked a fight with Zephyr!
---
"Kaido! Surrender now! Impel Down is where you belong!"
Zephyr shouted as he soared through the air with Moonwalk. His short purple hair bristled skyward, and his powerful arms gleamed like polished black metal, wrapped entirely in Armament Haki from knuckle to wrist.
Black Arm Zephyr, known across the sea for his masterful use of both Armament and Observation Haki.
A powerhouse. A legend. A man whose peak condition lasted longer than most pirates had careers.
"Hoohohoho! Zephyr, old man, what nonsense are you spouting?!"
Kaido, in Azure Dragon form, roared with laughter.
Every scale on his beastly face seemed to shimmer with sarcasm.
"As if you could catch me—Thunderclap!"
BOOOOM!
The massive beast opened his jaws, and a deafening roar turned into a cascade of white-hot lightning bolts, each as thick as a pillar.
They shot downward, forming a cage of thunder aimed straight at Zephyr.
In an instant, the glowing lightning web struck—
But Zephyr's eyes flashed with a dangerous red glint.
He raised his blackened right fist—
Then threw a single, devastating punch.
The air shattered as raw strength and Haki exploded outward.
Kaido's lightning net disintegrated, crackling away into fading sparks.
At this point in time, Zephyr had not yet lost his right arm to the clone of Whitebeard.
He was still at full power.
Everyone knew—
The true legends of the sea had absurdly long peak periods.
"Kaido, Muzan is in Marine custody. For all the innocent lives he's destroyed—
If he weren't such a rare Devil Fruit user, he'd already be executed!"
Zephyr glared upward.
But just as he was about to continue—
He was cut off.
By Kaido's loud, blubbering wail.
"MUZANNNN!! My poor Oni brother!!"
Tears the size of cannonballs poured from Kaido's dragon eyes.
"How could you let yourself get caught by those useless Marines?! UWAHHH!!"
Then, mid-sob, Kaido's tone shifted.
"And worst of all... YOU STILL HAVEN'T PAID ME!"
"…Paid?"
Zephyr's face twisted.
He hesitated, then muttered awkwardly.
"Kaido... that was your old friend. Your kin."
Kaido stopped crying instantly.
Smirked.
Winked.
"Exactly!"
"So he paid extra."
Kaido's grin widened into a snarl.
"Two Ancient Zoan Devil Fruits.
No way in hell I'm letting that go!"
"Heat Breath—HAHH!!"