Moria's expression darkened.
"Ki-shi-shi-shi... Even closed-off Wano isn't beyond the Marines now?"
Zaraki ignored him.
Ryuma's corpse reacted to the name.
Its head slowly rose.
The personality within the zombie belonged to Brook's stolen shadow, while the enormous physical ability supporting those movements came from Ryuma's preserved body.
Years inside that corpse had produced a strange imitation of samurai dignity, but the original Ryuma's soul was not somehow trapped inside it.
Even so, something in the zombie's behavior had become remarkably close to the warrior whose body it wore.
"Yohohoho..."
The voice was dry and hoarse.
"How unexpected."
Its single cloudy eye remained fixed on Zaraki.
"You are a Marine, yet you recognize this body and the sword it once carried."
The zombie lowered its gaze toward its bandaged form.
"This is not a particularly elegant existence."
Ryuma—or rather, the shadow animating Ryuma's corpse—slowly returned Shusui to its sheath and inclined its body in an old-fashioned bow.
The gesture carried an unmistakable request.
A swordsman asking another swordsman to settle the matter properly.
"Strong warrior."
Its hand rested beside Shusui.
"If you possess the ability..."
The cloudy eye sharpened.
"Then defeat me."
The harbor grew quiet.
Zaraki raised an eyebrow.
"You want me to put this corpse down?"
His right hand settled over the hilt of sealed Nozarashi.
The lazy atmosphere around him faded.
"Fine."
His grin widened.
"But I'll decide whether you were worth the trouble after we're done."
Ryuma moved before the final word had completely faded.
No warning.
No unnecessary killing intent.
The corpse became a gray blur as Shusui came free in one pure forward thrust.
CLANG—!!
Sealed Nozarashi met the Black Blade.
Sparks exploded between them.
The pier cracked beneath Zaraki's feet as the force of the ancient body drove forward.
"Oh?"
Zaraki's smile widened.
The zombie was far stronger than Brook himself could ever have been.
The technique came from the stolen shadow, but the body executing it had been forged by a man whose physical abilities belonged to another age entirely.
Ryuma used the recoil between their crossed blades to reset its footing.
The point of Shusui lowered slightly.
Zaraki's Observation Haki showed him the next few moments—not the inside of the corpse's muscles, but the shift of its weight, the angle of its hips, and the line the blade would take.
'A charging thrust.'
His grip tightened.
Ryuma moved again.
The air cracked as Ryuma drove forward.
"Gavotte Bond en Avant!"
Shusui became a single black line.
The technique was not a storm of hundreds of impossible attacks, but one explosively fast thrust that concentrated the zombie's entire forward momentum behind the point of the blade.
Zaraki moved aside just before it reached him.
Shhk!
Shusui skimmed close enough to sever several strands of black hair before the thrust continued past him and carved deep into one of the nearby mangrove roots.
"Fast."
Zaraki turned with it.
Ryuma immediately recovered, transitioning from the thrust into a compact series of slashes. Zaraki met the first with Nozarashi, avoided the second, and let the third pass close enough to graze the edge of his coat.
The exchange continued across the battered pier.
Zaraki gradually stopped giving ground.
The difference became clearer with every collision.
Ryuma's corpse possessed extraordinary strength, and Brook's techniques became far more dangerous when executed through that body, but a corpse animated by another man's shadow still had limits.
Old joints began responding more slowly, and black preservation fluid seeped through torn bandages around the sword arm.
Moria noticed it too.
His excitement was disappearing.
Absalom had crept invisibly toward him at some point.
"Master," he whispered, "that Marine isn't slowing down."
Moria said nothing.
At the center of the pier, Ryuma suddenly stopped.
The transition from violent movement to complete stillness sent a dull boom through the surrounding air.
The zombie slowly returned Shusui to its sheath.
"How unfortunate."
Its single eye rested on Zaraki.
"This body can no longer sustain this pace for much longer."
Zaraki glanced at the dark fluid soaking through the bandages around its shoulder.
He did not need Observation Haki to see that the ancient corpse was deteriorating.
Ryuma lowered its stance.
"Then this will be the last."
Its thumb pressed against Shusui's guard.
The posture became perfectly still.
"Three-Verse Humming..."
Zaraki's grin faded into concentration.
The zombie vanished.
"Arrow-Notch Slash."
Shusui flashed from its sheath.
Zaraki moved at the same instant.
Sealed Nozarashi left its scabbard with a sharp metallic cry.
The two passed one another.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then the bandages around Ryuma's right shoulder darkened.
A clean line appeared.
The corpse's sword arm slid free along with part of the shoulder and dropped onto the shattered pier.
Shusui remained clenched in the severed hand.
Ryuma stood quietly.
A zombie did not feel pain the way a living swordsman did, and losing an arm alone could not kill it.
Still, the outcome was obvious.
The cloudy eye shifted toward Zaraki.
"This is the summit of the present age?"
Zaraki looked over his shoulder.
"Not even close."
A dry laugh escaped the corpse.
"Good."
There was genuine satisfaction in the borrowed voice.
"Very good."
It bent down, retrieved Shusui with its remaining hand, and looked at the blade for a long moment.
"If a warrior like you had existed in the age of this body... perhaps that swordsman would have enjoyed meeting you."
That was as close as the zombie could come to speaking for a dead man whose soul had long since departed.
Ryuma turned Shusui in its hand.
Then tossed it toward Zaraki.
"Take it."
Zaraki caught the sword by the sheath.
"You're giving me Wano's national treasure?"
"You defeated the hand carrying it."
The dried mouth curved slightly.
"Let that be enough."
Zaraki drew Shusui a few inches.
The Black Blade gave a clear metallic hum.
"Good sword."
He pushed it back into the sheath.
"But I've already got mine."
His other hand rested against Nozarashi.
Shusui would be a trophy and a useful secondary blade.
Nothing more.
Ryuma glanced toward the seawater washing through the fractured edge of the pier.
Then it stepped backward.
Moria's expression changed.
"Hey! What are you—"
Seawater washed over the corpse's legs.
The reaction was immediate.
White vapor poured from beneath the bandages, and Brook's stolen shadow tore free from the body in a black streak, shooting away toward its original owner.
Without the shadow animating it, Ryuma's corpse collapsed into the shallow water.
No flames.
No mysterious resurrection of an ancient soul.
Just a dead body becoming dead once more.
Zaraki watched for a moment before tucking Shusui through his belt beside sealed Nozarashi.
Then the secure Den Den Mushi inside his coat began ringing in a distinctive three-pulse pattern.
His expression changed slightly.
That was a Headquarters priority channel.
Not a Golden Den Den Mushi and not a Buster Call.
Zaraki answered.
The message was short.
Urgent.
When the call ended, rapid footsteps approached from behind.
Yamakaji hurried over with his cigar clenched between his teeth.
The usual easygoing look had disappeared from his face.
"We received the same emergency order."
His gaze moved from the purified corpse in the water to Moria, then back to Zaraki.
"Leave this mess to me and Gion. Moria isn't going anywhere."
Behind them, Gion had already drawn Konpira and was directing Marines to surround the Warlord.
Moria's face looked significantly less amused than before.
Yamakaji lowered his voice.
"The dispatch packet also came with a Vivre Card. Headquarters wants you to follow it instead of returning to Marineford."
Zaraki reached into the waterproof envelope a communications officer handed him.
A small piece of Vivre Card immediately pulled toward the sea beyond Sabaody.
"A secret meeting?"
"Apparently."
Yamakaji sighed.
"A fast Marine cutter is already fueled at the next pier."
He briefly straightened Zaraki's crooked collar, then seemed to realize what he had done and pulled his hand back.
"Go."
"We'll secure Moria and finish the escort preparations here."
Zaraki looked around at the battered Marines and Alabasta guards.
The corner of his mouth rose.
"Fine."
He glanced toward Vivi.
"You all right?"
Vivi nodded quickly.
"Thanks to you."
"Good."
Zaraki turned.
"Then I'm off."
He walked toward the waiting cutter, Shusui resting beside Nozarashi at his waist.
Behind him, Moria's angry shouting began almost immediately.
Zaraki ignored it.
The cutter's engines roared to life.
A few minutes later, Sabaody was already shrinking behind him.