Tom was dressed in a red swordsman outfit, wielding a rapier, and wearing a black wide-brimmed hat, which seemed to match Mihawk's style. He looked very spirited.
At this moment, Tom held his sword upright in front of him, pinched the tip with his left hand, and bent the blade slightly with his right hand. Then he released his left hand, letting the tip spring forward, the blade lying flat and ready to strike.
Mihawk looked at Zhang Da Ye. "What is this supposed to mean?"
"Uh... maybe, I think he wants to duel you," Zhang Da Ye said hesitantly. Letting a cat block someone's path and act intimidating could be considered provocation; anyone who swung a sword would be justified. "You might not believe it, but Tom is actually really strong."
Mihawk felt this smooth-talking kid was unreliable, yet his eyes told him the boy wasn't lying. He then looked at Artoria.
"Tom is indeed very strong, in every sense," Artoria said politely, unsure how to describe it. "If you're interested, you can try. Go all out; it's fine."
"All out?" Artoria's words caught Mihawk's attention. He drew his black sword again. He didn't use his smaller blade because Artoria wanted him to go full force.
He had already sensed that this cat could use a sword, so why not try? He looked at Tom. "Are you scared with dying?"
Tom thought for a moment and shook his head.
"Good." Mihawk raised his sword, surprised that a cat had such courage, far braver than its owner.
Zhang Da Ye, however, suspected a misunderstanding: Tom's shake probably meant he didn't want to die.
Seeing Mihawk agree, Tom thrust his sword straight. "Aha!"
Mihawk casually parried and frowned.
Tom swung his rapier rapidly, producing dozens of moves in an instant. Mihawk, holding his sword in one hand, deflected every attack with mere tip movements, without moving his feet.
Mihawk was puzzled. The cat wielded a sword and had decent speed, but the moves were crude, steps messy, and force insufficient. Was this really enough for Artoria to tell him to go all out? Thinking this, Mihawk launched a counterattack, swinging his sword faster than Tom's fastest attack.
Clang! Tom's face showed panic, but he quickly flicked the black sword aside with his rapier.
The tip of the rapier lashed like a whip along the side of Mihawk's blade, passing by his ear without a hair out of place.
"Interesting." Mihawk thought the force shouldn't have moved his sword, yet it did.
He didn't retract the blade, rotating it for a horizontal slash, faster than before.
Tom ducked quickly, his hat spinning in the air for several rotations before settling back on his head.
"Coincidence or skill?" Mihawk's profile described that he could see not just swordsmanship, but the essence of the power possessed by anyone in front of him. Yet he couldn't read a cat.
No matter how fast or slow he swung, the cat dodged in impossible ways, narrowly avoiding every strike. Even a millimeter off and a hair would be lost.
It reminded him of the Marines' Rokushiki, which was deadly especially when mastered. But in front of this cat, it was different. Something was off. Very off.
"So how would you respond to this?" Mihawk slashed again. Though it looked like a single strike, the attack weaved into a dense net, covering Tom.
This technique could slice Fujitora's meteors into pieces. Better than Zoro's Great Thousand Worlds. It had no name, but because his wrist trembled three times, Zhang Da Ye called it the "Sword Net Three."
Tom gasped. This flying slash was incomprehensible, impossible to dodge!
He dropped the sword and ran left and right twice, feeling trapped. He gave up.
Tom spread his hands, stood upright, tied a blindfold, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and tilted his head forty-five degrees, blowing a perfect smoke ring.
Buzz~
The slash net passed through Tom without obstruction, leaving a large crater behind.
Mihawk was shocked. Was that it? No blood, and the cat seemed to reassemble itself like a puzzle.
Blindfolded, Tom fumbled in front of him. Finally, his eyeballs bounced back into place, pushing aside the blindfold, and he returned to normal.
"User ability?" Mihawk asked for the second time today.
Zhang Da Ye answered, "No. Tom is just incredibly skilled at swimming. You can call it his talent."
Being able to "swim" = not a Devil Fruit user.
Such an incredible natural talent exists?
Mihawk felt this trip wasn't wasted. He saw Artoria's magic-enhanced swordsmanship and Tom's talent-driven swordsmanship. Both powers felt strange, almost otherworldly.
As Mihawk prepared another strike, Tom refused.
His hat was broken. The hat previously pierced by Pitman's arrows had been patched, but today it was shredded.
Though his clothes reassembled with his body, the hat didn't. Tom clutched the fragments sadly.
"It's okay, Tom. I'll buy you a new one later," Zhang Da Ye said.
But Mihawk acted first, removing his own hat and placing it on Tom's head. "Consider this compensation. You may have limitless potential. Keep it up, cat. No, Tom!"
Mihawk, usually stern, smiled warmly.
How did he know Tom had limitless potential?
Zhang Da Ye thought Mihawk had sharp insight and was truly handsome—the most charming adult he had seen.
This time Mihawk really left, leaving a solitary figure and the words, "If the world's number one swordsman in the future is a cat, it would be amusing! Hahaha!"
Zhang Da Ye checked Tom from head to toe. The reassembled form seemed seamless, no gaps, and Tom hadn't cried out in pain—was it because of the blindfold?
Tom found Mihawk decent; he knew to compensate for damage. He tried the hat—slightly large, could slip and block vision.
No matter, just adjust the angle. He showed off by taking the hat off and presenting it to Zhang Da Ye.
Zhang Da Ye praised him with a smile, helped him wear it, then looked thoughtfully in the direction Mihawk departed. Why give a hat? A quirk of the strong, or a habit learned from Red-Haired?
But expecting Tom to strive so hard—better just sleep.
Rui Meng Meng noticed him staring. "Boss, what are you thinking? Don't tell me you want to challenge him too?"
Zhang Da Ye shook his head. "No, I just remembered—didn't he not pay for his drinks before?"
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