Elbaf, Underworld.
White snow blanketed the frozen soil that had not melted for ten thousand years, leaving only a touch of lonely white in the vast land.
The cold wind howled past, and in the wind and snow, two figures shifted and moved, each swinging horizontal and vertical slashes.
Clang~ Clang~ Clang~
The sound waves from the clash between musou isshin and the black blade yoru were like ripples on the water's surface, spreading out across the snowfield and kicking up a thousand piles of snow waves.
Looking at the two figures sparring, Loki threw the hammer handle he was holding... onto the ground.
"Is it too late for me to practice swordsmanship now?"
Hearing this, Golden Lion Shiki was stunned for a few seconds, then laughed while biting his cigar.
"Jiehahahaha~"
"Loki, the Captain once said—"
"The world will not make way for the timid, but it will give the brave a chance to choose again."
"The value of action lies in its ability to reshape the meaning of time; age or starting point are not the end, the key is whether you are willing to take the first step."
"Rather than obsessing over not having started in the past."
"It's better to grasp the present; as long as you do it, it's never too late."
After half a year together, Golden Lion Shiki completely acknowledged Loki: he was indeed qualified to be on the ship.
In time, Loki might even be the only crew member on the ship whose comprehensive strength could fight the Captain.
Mihawk only rivaled the Captain in terms of swordsmanship.
In terms of Three Types of Haki, Mihawk's Haoshoku and Observation Haki were both inferior to the Captain's, with only his Armament Haki barely being on par.
In terms of the stamina that decided the final victory,
Mihawk, Golden Lion Shiki... everyone was far less monstrous than the Captain, except for Loki, who possessed the bloodline of the Ancient Giant Race and was nearly on par with the Captain.
Hearing these words, Loki grinned.
"I should still look for a decent hammer; ordinary hammers are always shattered by Little White Hair."
In half a year, Loki had a total of over a hundred hammers shattered, almost one per day on average.
His mental state almost crumbled because of it.
In all of Elbaf, no matter which craftsman forged the weapon or great hammer, it wouldn't last half a day in Little White Hair's hands before being sliced apart by a single sword strike.
Loki was particularly envious of the divine weapon in Little White Hair's hand—musou isshin.
According to what Little White Hair revealed: musou isshin could change along with one's size, matching a height of three meters as well as a height of nine meters.
It was simply the weapon of his dreams.
Loki dreamed of owning a divine weapon like musou isshin.
The great hammer Iron Thunder completely met the criteria, but unfortunately, Little White Hair had taken an interest in it first. Loki acknowledged Little White Hair and naturally didn't want to take away what he loved.
Even if Iron Thunder was of Elbaf origin... after a while, the two figures who were fighting suddenly stopped, as Seven pulled out a den den mushi from his pocket.
"moshi moshi, who is it?"
The den den mushi had an anxious expression and spoke very quickly.
"Seven, it's Rayleigh. Three little friends on my end were snatched by slave traders while sailing. Help me find them."
"Their names are Boa Hancock, Boa Sandersonia, and Boa Marigold..."
Seven took over the conversation to offer comfort.
"Uncle Rayleigh, don't worry."
"I'll use my connections to ask around. I'll contact you as soon as I have news."
"When were they snatched?"
The voice of the den den mushi suddenly changed.
"Half a month ago, we left Amazon Lily. Hancock and the others then joined the Kuja Pirates and were attacked and snatched while sailing at sea."
"I'm counting on you, Seven."
"It's only right, Aunt Shakky."
Hanging up the den den mushi, Seven first called the Shipping King Umit and the Big News Morgans, commissioning them to help find the three Boa sisters.
He then got the contact information for Dracu Picclo from the Shipping King.
Dracu Picclo was known as the Funeral Parlor Mogul and was also one of the kings of the Underworld.
Using the funeral business as a cover, his main business was the sale of human parts; he was a damn bastard.
den den mushi: "Hello? Who is it?"
"Barzeb Seven."
The den den mushi was stunned for a few seconds before laughing awkwardly.
"I really didn't expect a big shot like you would actually contact a small fry like me."
"Lord Barzeb, what are your orders?"
Seven first stated his intention and then added a sentence. "Mr. Picclo, once this is done, I, Barzeb, will owe you a favor."
A favor is something that must be repaid; when I kill you in the future, I will definitely give you a quick death.
The den den mushi laughed: "Everyone on the sea says Barzeb keeps his promises. It is my honor to have your favor. I will give you a reply as soon as possible."
"Thank you."
The reason he didn't call Saint V. Nusjuro directly was because compared to owing the Gorosei a favor, Seven would rather owe these Underworld kings a favor.
The cooperation with Morgans had been very pleasant.
Under Morgans' pen, Barzeb Seven had seemingly already become the king of the world.
Umit was the same.
The gold produced by Hachinosu Island and the transport of necessary supplies for the island had been handled by the Shipping King's fleet for the past half year.
One could still use interests to bind these Underworld figures, but not the Gorosei and the World Government.
Seven believed that as long as the World Government had the chance, they would definitely choose to destroy the Morning Star Pirates, and he would likewise choose to destroy the World Government.
The cooperation between the two sides was only because there was no opportunity or the right time to destroy the other.
Furthermore, in the current cooperation with the Gorosei, he had to take the initiative and absolutely could not fall into a passive position.
Therefore, he did not contact Saint V. Nusjuro.
If nothing went wrong, the three Hancock sisters should have been sent to the Holy Land Mary Geoise through various hands, becoming slaves to the Celestial Dragons.
Mihawk had already put away the black blade yoru.
"Seven, do we need to go back?"
"Not for now. I've already asked people to help search. Whether we go back now or not makes no difference."
Seven understood that the Morning Star Pirates still lacked talent, all kinds of talent.
He would definitely go to the East Blue later to ask Buggy if he was willing to let Buggy Delivery debut early; that way, he could at least gather information.
Also, he had to continue poaching people.
Shanks' future crew members, Yasopp... Seven didn't think much of him, but the others could definitely be poached. Everyone is a brother, so Shanks definitely wouldn't mind.
Right, Shanks?
Seeing that Little White Hair was finally done, Loki waved his fist and strode straight over.
"Little White Hair, take a punch from me."
Seven raised his iron fist wrapped in Two-Color Haki.
"Normal Punch!"
Days like this had been going on for half a year. Usually, it was mainly Seven, Mihawk, Golden Lion Shiki, and Loki taking turns to compete and spar.
Jabba would occasionally join in when his hands got itchy.
Kuma and Ginny only joined the sparring queue after combining their respective abilities, as the others were simply too overpowered.
For everyone, the combat experience and progress in this half year were immense.
Especially for Seven.
He had almost finished learning all the moves recorded in Garp's cultivation manual, with only the final move, Infinite Fist Bone, yet to be mastered.
After all, it was Garp's ultimate move, so spending a bit more time was quite reasonable... East Blue, Moonlight Islands.
Syrup Village, pier.
A man wearing a cloak with a classical acanthus pattern suddenly stopped and looked back.
"What's wrong, Shanks?"
The Red Hair with the straw hat on his head shook his head.
"It's nothing, Beckman. I just suddenly felt a bit uneasy, as if I'm about to lose something."
After saying that, Shanks couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"You tell me, the two of us are penniless right now and don't even have a decent ship. I really can't think of anything else we could lose."
Beckman, with a cigarette in his mouth, said hesitantly.
"Maybe someone is talking about you."
"Talking about me?" Shanks was stunned.
In his mind, the image of a white-haired boy and a red-nosed boy with their arms around each other's shoulders couldn't help but emerge.
Since Seven and the Captain went to the South Blue, it had been nearly five years since they last met; he definitely wouldn't be talking about him.
Three and a half years ago, in Loguetown, Shanks had rejected Buggy's request to take a ship to the Final Island Raftel to find the great treasure. The two had parted on bad terms since then.
So the truth was about to come out.
"It's... Buggy, right."