Chapter 270
For Hancock, the moment stretched unbearably long.
The sensation of fabric tearing across her back was enough to drag memories she had buried for years straight to the surface.
Her thoughts stopped.
She could not turn, cover herself, or even force air into her lungs quickly enough.
Sandersonia and Marigold were moving, but they were several steps away.
Zaraki moved first.
There was no spark of lightning and no impossible teleportation.
He simply crossed the narrow cabin faster than anyone else reacted, stepped between Hancock and most of the room, and caught the torn fabric against her back with one broad hand while his other hand steadied her arm.
"Careful."
His voice was completely ordinary.
"This tin can doesn't exactly ride smooth."
He did not ask about the mark.
He did not stare at it.
With his free hand, Zaraki pulled off the black trench coat he had been wearing and draped it over Hancock's shoulders, covering the torn dress and the brand beneath it before anyone else had more than a moment to look.
By the time Sandersonia and Marigold reached their sister, Hancock was already covered.
Jinbe slowly closed his mouth.
Law had opened his eyes, and Gion had deliberately turned her gaze away the moment she understood what had happened.
Hancock stood rigidly inside Zaraki's oversized coat.
She had expected questions.
Pity.
Disgust.
Curiosity.
Zaraki gave her none of them.
"Hey, Your Majesty."
His teasing voice pulled her out of the shock.
"If you keep staring at me like that, I'm going to start charging you."
His grin returned.
"I know I'm handsome, but unlimited viewing isn't free."
The ridiculous remark punctured the tension.
Color rushed into Hancock's face.
"I-Impudent!"
She jerked away from his support and clutched the coat more tightly around herself.
"Who was staring at you? Stop flattering yourself!"
She raised her chin, though she refused to meet his eyes.
"And this coat... I will have it cleaned before I return it."
She hesitated.
"Also, stop calling me 'Your Majesty.'"
Desperate to recover the dignity of the Pirate Empress, Hancock turned toward the rest of the cabin.
"I refuse to spend any longer than necessary inside this miserable submarine. As soon as it is safe, I am returning to Amazon Lily."
"That part makes sense," Zaraki said.
Hancock blinked, apparently expecting an argument.
He stretched his good shoulder carefully.
"I'm not going with you, though. I still have a fight with Hawkeye waiting."
Gion immediately looked over.
"You just fought Big Mom."
"Yeah."
"You can barely use your left arm."
"It'll get better."
Gion stared at him.
"Are you trying to make me hit you while I'm still in restraints?"
Jinbe's expression became grave.
"Dracule Mihawk is not an opponent anyone should face while carrying injuries like those."
Zaraki shrugged.
"I didn't say I was fighting him this minute."
Law's expression changed anyway, because he clearly understood where the conversation was heading.
Zaraki walked toward him.
"No."
Law said it before Zaraki even opened his mouth.
"You don't know what I'm asking yet."
"Yes, I do."
Zaraki grinned.
"The rematch was public. Hawkeye will make sure I can find him, and when he does, I need a ride."
"I am not your personal transport."
"You're already going somewhere."
"That does not make every island in the New World a scheduled stop."
Jinbe gave a low laugh.
Zaraki looked back toward Gion.
"The important part is that there's no reason to rush the fight before I can actually swing properly. I'll rest first."
Gion's expression did not soften much.
"That is the first sensible sentence you have said since Whole Cake Island."
A communications snail mounted near the cabin door suddenly rang.
Law answered.
The message came from the Oni Slayer.
The Kalles operation had officially been suspended.
The Warlord candidate had been removed from immediate consideration, Director Dapus and the surviving Aegis operatives had withdrawn under Government orders, and the hidden seastone batteries were no longer active.
There was no new assignment for Zaraki.
Not yet.
Law ended the call.
Zaraki smiled faintly.
"See? One less problem."
Gion looked at him.
"That is not how I would describe anything that happened on Kalles."
Jinbe stepped forward after a moment.
"If you still intend to meet Mihawk once you have recovered, I will accompany you as far as the duel site."
Zaraki raised an eyebrow.
Jinbe bowed his head slightly.
"Fish-Man Island owes you a debt. If pirates or opportunists try to interfere with a duel that has nothing to do with them, I can at least help keep the path clear."
There was no empty politeness in his voice.
Zaraki studied him for a moment, then nodded.
"Fine by me."
...
A Warlord of the Sea had just volunteered to accompany Zaraki to his eventual rematch with Dracule Mihawk.
If the newspapers learned about that, Morgans would probably need another emergency edition.
Zaraki studied Jinbe's serious expression and decided there was no point burying the answer beneath formal pleasantries.
"Yeah. You're good people."
Law looked like he had just attended his own funeral.
Mihawk was already enough trouble.
Now Jinbe intended to come along as well, and Law could practically see his submarine turning into a ferry service for half the notable people on the sea.
"Hmph."
Hancock folded her arms beneath Zaraki's oversized black coat.
"If all of you insist on going to watch this duel, then I suppose there is no harm in seeing whether the so-called world's greatest swordsman deserves his reputation."
Zaraki almost laughed.
Wherever Mihawk eventually named as the site of the rematch, it certainly was not going to become "on the way" to Amazon Lily merely because Hancock declared it so.
Law glanced toward Sandersonia and Marigold and looked even more tired.
Wonderful.
Gion gave Zaraki a long look.
"You have an absurd talent for collecting people around you."
Her tone turned more serious.
"Still, Jinbe and Hancock traveling with us for part of the route will discourage some of the pirates who have started circling after Morgans' broadcast."
She did not include imaginary hostile factions inside the Marines.
The immediate dangers were already bad enough: Cipher Pol, whatever the Five Elders decided next, Kaido, and every ambitious pirate who thought killing Zaraki would make him famous.
Zaraki leaned back against the bulkhead and closed his eyes.
Enough politics.
There was something else he wanted to check.
The system interface appeared privately in his mind.
**[Epic Achievement unlocked: Scar an Emperor.]**
**[Condition fulfilled: Severed one of Charlotte Linlin's arms in direct combat and escaped her territory alive.]**
**[Reward: Swordsmanship Legacy Selection ×1.]**
Zaraki's attention sharpened.
A new explanation followed before he could make assumptions about what the reward meant.
**[Swordsmanship Legacy Selection grants technical memories, combat insight, and swordsmanship experience from one compatible archived swordsman.]**
**[It does not grant the selected individual's physical parameters, supernatural abilities, Noble Phantasms, dimensional travel, causality manipulation, or other setting-specific powers.]**
That made considerably more sense than summoning an independent person into the Polar Tang or somehow turning a "subordinate template" into one of Zaraki's own abilities.
He swept through the available archive.
Sasaki Kojirō was there.
So was Miyamoto Musashi.
His attention stopped on the latter.
**[Swordsmanship Legacy: Miyamoto Musashi — Fate/Grand Order]**
The wandering swordswoman's technical experience was exactly the sort of thing Zaraki lacked.
Mihawk had already shown him that raw power and even good instincts were not the same as complete swordsmanship.
Musashi's experience with two blades and her relentless pursuit of the highest level of technique offered a different perspective from Mihawk's disciplined precision.
The system's restriction mattered.
Zaraki would receive none of the dimensional travel, Noble Phantasm effects, or supernatural "Void" phenomena associated with her setting.
Only swordsmanship.
That was enough.
'System. Choose Miyamoto Musashi.'
**[Selection confirmed.]**
**[Swordsmanship Legacy integration beginning.]**
The change was immediate but internal.
Years of technical experience poured into Zaraki's understanding of distance, timing, rhythm, commitment, feints, and the point at which a cut stopped being a collision of strength and became a decision made before the blade ever moved.
For a brief moment, that sudden shift in his bearing leaked outward.
Law's eyes opened.
Jinbe straightened.
Gion's hand settled instinctively near Konpira.
Nothing invisible slashed the submarine apart, no supernatural edge cut anyone's soul, and Konpira did not become frightened or reverent.
The people around Zaraki simply felt the unmistakable change in the posture of a swordsman who had understood something new.
Then the sensation faded.
Zaraki slowly opened his golden eyes.
He could feel the difference.
His strength had not magically increased.
His Reiatsu had not grown.
The Zaraki Kenpachi template remained at one hundred percent synchronization.
But the way he understood the sword had become broader.
That was exactly what he wanted before seeing Mihawk again.