Chapter 16: The Devil Fruit User Appears
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A little after six in the evening.
The stage for the finals had already been prepared. In the enormous dojo built specifically for the competition, spectators were filing into the seats on all four sides.
Before long, every seat was filled.
A rough count put the crowd at more than two thousand.
In the first row on the southern side, seven luxurious seats stood in a line. The men occupying them all appeared to be in their fifties or sixties. Dressed in kendo uniforms, they sat with calm expressions and an imposing air.
“Those are the masters of the Seven Great Dojos?” Xia Nuo lifted the curtain of the changing room and glanced over. “Do you know them all? Have any of them been replaced since five years ago?”
Junichi shook his head.
“No. They’re still the same. Not one has changed. The gray-haired man in the middle, along with the two beside him, were all close friends of my father. They shared a bond forged in their youth, the kind where they would have risked their lives for one another.”
“Strictly speaking, only the two on the far right ever had some friction with my father. As for the others, I remember that they all got along well with him.”
“So aside from those two, whose poor relationship isn’t surprising, the betrayal of everyone else seems all the stranger, doesn’t it?” Xia Nuo stroked his chin. “It really is bizarre. It’s making me a little uneasy.”
People’s hearts could change, but they couldn’t perform a five-hundred-and-forty-degree somersault in the space of a single second.
On these seas, only one kind of power could accomplish that.
—the power of a Devil Fruit.
But what kind of Devil Fruit could possibly achieve something like that?
“Look over there,” Junichi suddenly said in a low voice.
Xia Nuo followed his gaze.
That was the opponent’s changing room. At some point, the edge of its curtain had also been lifted, revealing half of a fox mask. The figure behind it stood motionless, staring this way.
More precisely, he was staring at Junichi.
“I get the feeling this person is very concerned about you.” Xia Nuo glanced at his junior. “When you fought him this afternoon, did you sense anything familiar about him?”
“I wish I had, but right after we bowed, I went flying, so…”
“Remember to fly a little slower next time. You might be able to catch his scent.”
“…You really know how to hurt a person.”
————
Seven o’clock came soon enough.
“This is the dojo specially built for the Asakura Island Kendo Tournament! Welcome, everyone, to the finals of this year’s kendo tournament!”
Under the focused lights, the host climbed onto the platform at the center of the dojo and began warming up the crowd.
When he finally introduced the two dark horses—especially after mentioning that Xia Nuo came from Sakura Garden Dojo—whispers erupted throughout many sections of the audience.
Clearly.
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Even after five years, despite the Seven Great Dojos doing everything they could to erase its traces, many people still remembered the former glory of Sakura Garden Dojo.
Especially its former master, Sakura Itsuki.
As the most renowned swordsman on Asakura Island and the founder of the kendo tournament, he had been an idol worshiped by many local residents since more than a decade ago.
Listening to the clamorous discussion around him, Junichi wore a complicated expression.
“It’s your turn, boss.”
He glanced at the clock and quietly reminded Xia Nuo. After fumbling around in his trouser pocket for a while, he pulled out a pale pink candy and placed it in Xia Nuo’s hand.
“What’s this?”
“Sakura candy. When I was little, I used to accompany my father to all sorts of grand events, and I would always get so nervous that my hands and feet trembled. My father would buy me these candies. I’d keep them in my mouth and chew on them, and I’d feel much better.”
“There are only about two thousand people here. Does that really count as a grand event?”
“What?! You mean it doesn’t?”
“Tch. Country children really are ignorant.”
Xia Nuo tore open the wrapper and popped the sakura candy into his mouth.
“It has a filling, too. I like it.” He chewed as he picked up his bamboo sword. Before stepping out of the changing room, he gave Junichi one last look and grinned. “You’re not going to encourage me? Say something like ‘Good luck’?”
“No need. I believe in you,” Junichi said with complete seriousness.
“Good.”
Xia Nuo paused for a moment, then bared his teeth in a grin.
“Perfect. I’ve never done anything that disappointed anyone.”
Swish!
The curtain was thrown open, and the spotlight suddenly swept over him.
Amid the thunderous cheers of several thousand spectators, Xia Nuo climbed onto the central platform with a calm expression and long, steady strides.
“Thank you.”
Xia Nuo gave a polite bow and assumed a standard opening stance.
He had practiced swordsmanship for more than a year, after all. He still had no understanding of the flashy techniques, but he knew all the formalities meant to uphold appearances.
However—
Even after waiting for quite some time, he still saw no bow in return from the White Fox.
The other man stood there like a statue, wooden and completely unresponsive.
What was this guy doing?
Xia Nuo had only just begun to frown when he suddenly heard the other man’s low voice.
“Junichi… has he been doing well all these years?”
Xia Nuo’s heart jolted. He abruptly raised his head and looked toward the eyes hidden behind the mask.
It was the first time the two of them had stood so close.
Under the ample light of the spotlights, Xia Nuo could finally see clearly. The man’s pupils were a deep violet.
Deep violet eyes were rare, but not unheard of.
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But—
Junichi’s eyes were deep violet as well.
“What exactly are you to Junichi?”
Xia Nuo narrowed his eyes.
“Why come asking me? You hide your face and conceal your identity. If you really want to know, why not find him yourself and ask him face-to-face?”
“…”
The White Fox did not answer.
He merely lifted his head and stared coldly at the den den mushi mounted on the wall, which was filming and broadcasting the match.
“Hey, what’s going on? Why have they both stopped?”
“Why is he staring at the camera?”
“What are they doing? Are they going to fight or not?”
No movement came from the platform for a long while. Dissatisfaction and complaints stirred the audience, and the commotion grew louder by the second.
…
Behind a broad office desk, a middle-aged man was enjoying the attentions of two beautiful women, one on either side of him.
The moment he saw what was happening, his expression changed dramatically.
“You bastard!”
He shoved the women away and sprang to his feet, planting both hands on the desk as he glared fixedly at the screen.
“Has he lost his mind? At a crucial moment like this, what does he think he’s doing? What the hell is he trying to pull?”
The tall, lean figure on the screen remained perfectly still, quietly staring into the camera.
A deeply ominous feeling gradually rose in the middle-aged man’s heart.
“Oh dear, Mr. Carpenter, what’s wrong? Don’t get so worked up. Anger is bad for your health. Come, let me have another drink with you.”
The blonde beauty on his right coyly picked up two glasses of sherry.
“Get out! All of you, get the hell out!”
Bang!
He violently swept his arm across the table. The glasses shattered on the floor, and his roar sent the women stumbling backward in terror until they huddled, trembling, in the corner of the sofa.
There was a knock at the door. A bodyguard pushed it open a crack and asked in confusion,
“Mr. Carpenter, what happened?”
“Prepare the carriage… No! Have the driver bring my motorcycle downstairs! I’m going to the tournament grounds immediately, at top speed!”
The Carpenter hurriedly threw on a trench coat and a hat. Surrounded by several bodyguards, he flung open the door and strode swiftly toward the stairwell.
A moment later—
The engine roared like thunder. The modified jet motorcycle sped away, crushing the fallen cherry blossoms scattered across the entire street.
The buildings and scenery on either side blurred past at incredible speed. The Carpenter gripped the gilded handlebar so tightly his knuckles whitened, his face beneath the black wide-brimmed hat dark as storm clouds.
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