Walking through Loguetown's streets, Ryukawa finally felt—properly—that this place was on a completely different level from Octagon Town.
The city was bustling.
Shops lined both sides of the road: clothing stalls, food vendors, weapon stores…
When he passed a weapon shop, his steps slowed.
He lowered his head and looked at the wooden sword in his hand.
Then he glanced at the metal blades displayed inside.
For a moment, his eyes went a little blank.
"Using a wooden sword with my current 'status'… doesn't that feel kind of cheap?"
How do you judge whether someone is a true swordsman?
Swordsmanship skill matters, yes—but the quality of the weapon is just as important.
Like the world's strongest swordsman—Dracule Mihawk—who carries one of the supreme-grade blades: Black Blade Yoru.
"So if I keep running around with a wooden sword… doesn't that make me look low-tier?"
He thought it over.
It did kind of feel that way.
He turned back to the shop, scanned the inventory… and sighed.
All junk.
"Finding a good weapon isn't that easy."
"Am I supposed to be like Zoro, that green seaweed-head, and just walk into a random shop and stumble into a famous blade?"
Yeah, no.
That kind of luck wasn't happening to him.
He started walking again—then suddenly stopped.
A workable idea hit him.
"Maybe… I don't need to find a weapon myself."
"I can make the Revolutionaries get one for me."
He'd put in massive effort, made enemies of CP, the Marines, and even the Donquixote Family.
He'd also smashed Smoker so hard the man nearly died.
Meanwhile, the Revolutionaries got a free batch of rescued people—ready to become recruits.
And he got… nothing.
"So yeah. Getting them to find me a good sword isn't asking too much."
He narrowed his eyes.
The plan was solid.
People talk as if famous blades are common—there are 21 Great Grade and 50 Skillful Grade swords—but in reality, getting one is insanely difficult.
Even major auctions might not have one.
And even if one appears, every swordsman on the sea wants it.
Competition is brutal.
"Not everyone is Zoro."
"If I hunt for a blade alone, it's hard."
"But if the Revolutionaries do it… different story."
"They've got networks everywhere."
Finding a good weapon is at least possible for them.
"So no matter what—this time, I'm prying a good sword out of their mouths."
"As payment for being their tool."
He smiled a little coldly.
"And if they refuse?"
He didn't consider himself one of them.
Never had.
If things turned ugly, he could still draw steel and cut.
He'd already angered CP, the Marines, and the Donquixote Family.
Offending the Revolutionaries too?
Not exactly a new level of trouble.
"A sword isn't expensive for a group that wants to overthrow the world."
"If they can't even pay that, what are they even doing?"
His mood lightened.
The Revolutionary crew was still waiting at the port.
And with Loguetown in chaos, no Marines were likely to be checking every ship.
Hack and the others wouldn't get exposed.
"They can wait."
"Since I'm here, I might as well walk around."
He strolled deeper into Loguetown.
If he could find a good blade here, great.
If not—he'd squeeze one out of the Revolutionaries.
He remembered that Zoro's Sandai Kitetsu was found in a weapon shop in Loguetown…
But he didn't remember which one.
And besides—Zoro wouldn't even come here for another ten-plus years.
That shop might not exist yet.
After searching around, he found nothing.
"Looks like that seaweed-head's fate can't be stolen."
"Good. If I stole his luck and he died early, I'd feel like the real villain."
He shrugged, relaxed.
Loguetown's prosperity was undeniable.
He even saw gambling tables set up openly on the street—shouting, cheering, money flying.
Curious, he stepped closer.
"Big or small! Place your bets!"
"Big! BIG!"
"Trust me—this one's big again!"
Most of the crowd were pirates and veteran gamblers, faces red, emotions swinging wildly from joy to rage to despair.
For a second, Ryukawa felt like he was watching every kind of human life compressed into one corner of the street.
He was about to leave—
Then he heard something that made him stop.
"Once this is over, Loguetown's going to get way stricter."
"I heard that since that mad dog Smoker got crushed, the Marines are furious."
"They've sent stronger people—on the way here right now."
"So stuff like open gambling? This is the last time."
"After those heavy hitters arrive, the crackdown will start."
"Our casino's going to be the first target."
Someone spoke gloomily.
"Yeah… nobody expected Smoker would get one-shot."
"He's still in the infirmary, barely alive."
"Smoker's annoying, but his strength was real."
"He's a Logia user."
"Logia users are monsters."
"And yet… he got one-shot here in Loguetown."
"Not because Smoker was weak."
"Because his enemy was terrifying."
Their voices spread.
To them, a Logia user was already the definition of unstoppable.
Now there was someone who could instantly crush a Logia user—and that monster might still be in Loguetown.
No wonder the city felt uneasy.
"But that mysterious guy is the reason the Marines are coming."
"And the reason our business is getting wiped out."
"So if you really think about it…"
"The real culprit ruining our lives is the bastard who crushed Smoker."
"If that guy didn't do it, Loguetown would've stayed the same."
"We could've kept running this place."
"I hate that damn guy."
"If I ever find out who he is, I'm tearing him apart!"
"Count me in!"
The casino pirates were getting worked up, angry and loud.
Ryukawa coughed.
A little awkwardly.
Then he asked, "So… you really hate the person who one-shot Smoker that much?"
They turned, startled.
A kid?
When did this kid show up?
Still, their anger didn't drop.
"Of course we hate him!"
"Because of him, the Marines are sending new people."
"New boss means a giant purge."
"Everything gets reshuffled."
"And that's all because of the guy who crushed Smoker!"
Ryukawa rubbed his nose.
So… he'd accidentally become public enemy number one.
Then he asked calmly:
"If you had a chance to find him… what would you do to him?"
Their answers came fast.
"I'd tear him to pieces!"
"I'd skin him alive!"
"I'd stuff him in a sack and drown him!"
One ugly threat after another.
Ryukawa waved his hand, almost kindly.
"If you want him that badly…"
"…then I'll fulfill your wish."
They scoffed.
"What are we even doing talking to this kid?"
"Yeah—wasting time."
"Beat it!"
"Who do you think you are?"
"You're going to 'fulfill our wish'?"
Ryukawa's smile turned strange—playful, dangerous.
"Who am I?"
"Unlucky for you…"
"The person you were just calling evil, wishing to torture and butcher…"
He leaned in slightly.
"…is me."
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