Chapter 3 — The King's Aptitude: Awakening in Hell
After a brief trip outside, Tsugikuni Yoriichi returned with two tiger legs in tow.
He had no idea exactly how much they weighed, but judging from their sheer size, so long as the meat didn't spoil, food would hardly be a concern for quite some time.
To avoid the stench of blood drawing other predators, Yoriichi didn't haul the legs all the way to the cave entrance. Instead, he left them at the foot of the mountain, a fair distance from his temporary dwelling.
He then cut off a small piece to roast and taste. The fact that the giant bird had eaten the tiger suggested the meat should be edible, but Yoriichi decided to test it cautiously nonetheless.
Huh…well, at least it wasn't poisonous.
As for the flavor… it couldn't exactly be called delicious. In truth, it had absolutely nothing to do with "delicious." The blood hadn't been washed off, the meat was dry and tough, and the stench of iron and beast musk was heavy on the tongue.
Still, Yoriichi was satisfied. After all meat was meat. Compared to that unidentifiable paste he'd been subsisting on, this was a feast beyond measure.
Once he confirmed the meat was safe, Yoriichi spent over an hour roasting several catties to fill his stomach. Yet even after eating that much tiger meat, this body of his was only half full. He couldn't quite tell what kind of structure this body had but its appetite was certainly remarkable.
Even so, Yoriichi restrained his urge to keep roasting and eating. Instead, he built a simple smokehouse at the mountain's base and cut dozens of catties of meat to preserve with smoke, extending its shelf life.
After spending half a day "preparing" the tiger meat, Yoriichi decided to set the matter aside and survey his surroundings once more.
For now, food was no longer an issue but the greater problem was water.
Fortunately, that most pressing concern would soon find its solution.
After satisfying his hunger, Yoriichi strapped on his blade once again and began another exploration of the area.
This time, instead of following the woodland path outward, he studied the lay of the land carefully and then headed toward the lowest point of the terrain, pushing deeper into the dense forest.
"These trees are enormous," he muttered.
"If I don't mark my path, I could easily get lost."
In such thick jungle, it was all too easy to lose one's sense of direction.
To prevent that, Yoriichi moved lightly through the undergrowth, his long sword sweeping freely at his side. Any grass or shrub that grew too close was promptly "trimmed" down in passing.
Having been given a second chance at life, Yoriichi found that even his state of mind felt younger, freer than before.
…
Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle…
Deep within the island, after walking along the slope for nearly forty minutes, Tsugikuni Yoriichi finally came upon a small stream.
At first glance, it looked like a silver serpent winding its way through the mountain peaks.
Both banks were lush with green grass, and beyond them stretched dense forest—thick with towering trees of species Yoriichi had never seen before.
He stopped at the edge of the stream, glanced around, then swung his sword.
With a single strike, he felled a massive tree thick enough that two men would need to join arms to encircle it.
Cutting off a section, he hollowed out its core, fashioning a crude container.
He dipped it into the stream to fill it with water.
"…Hm?"
"What's with this color?"
"And this faint metallic scent…?"
As he lifted the makeshift bucket, Yoriichi realized that the water inside appeared faintly reddish against the hue of the wood.
Startled, he looked back toward the stream and to his shock, saw that the flowing water itself had turned the same pale red, deepening to crimson as it coursed along.
The heavy stench of blood filled the air.
"This…"
"What in the world happened here?"
The water source was tainted. Yoriichi frowned slightly, his gaze tracing the stream's flow upstream, as if to discern what lay beyond.
After a moment's thought, he tossed aside the wooden bucket, tightened his grip on his sword, and began following the current's path upward to find the source of the contamination.
He had finally found a water source; he couldn't simply ignore it now.
If he could trace the pollution to its origin and remove the cause, the stream would run clear again within the hour.
That would resolve his most pressing problem.
He followed the creek upstream.
He didn't know how long he walked before the trees began to thin.
When he climbed a gentle rise, his vision suddenly opened wide and what he saw made his breath catch in his throat.
At the stream's upper reaches lay a wide, open clearing.
And there scattered across the ground were bodies. Hundreds of them, at a glance.
Blood streamed from the corpses, forming thick rivulets that flowed down into the water below.
This was a battlefield.
Flesh and mud clung together on the ground, indistinguishable from one another.
Not far beyond the killing field stood the ruins of a small town, its walls half-collapsed, its buildings reduced to rubble.
Several spots within still belched dark, heavy smoke.
Yoriichi lifted his gaze.
The entire area was deathly still no trace of life could be sensed anywhere.
And then, among the bodies strewn about, something caught his eye.
White cloaks, stained scarlet with blood each emblazoned with two heavy black brushstrokes forming characters that stirred a deep sense of familiarity in him.
"Justice."
"…The Navy?!"
Tsugikuni Yoriichi on his second day in the world of One Piece, witnessed firsthand the cruelty that defined this world.
Judging by their clothing and the direction in which their bodies had fallen, he could roughly tell that the corpses belonged to two opposing sides.
Those in navy uniforms were clearly Marines, while the others gripping pitchforks, hoes, and wooden clubs were civilians. These two groups had fought together.
And opposing them were the pirates burly men wielding all manner of weapons, their bodies built for violence.
As Yoriichi stepped into the battlefield, his gaze swept across the carnage.
He quickly noticed that there were far fewer pirate corpses than those of the Marines and civilians.
What struck him as even stranger was that among the dead civilians, there were no women or children to be found.
"Did the pirates win this battle?"
"Were the women and children taken away?"
"Or… did they manage to hide?"
Crossing the blood-soaked ground, Yoriichi pondered these questions as he made his way toward the ruined town in the distance.
Once elegant homes now stood in ruin shattered walls, collapsed roofs. The once-broad streets were blocked by overturned wagons, each filled with stones, as if they'd been hastily used to build barricades.
He climbed over the debris.
The white stone paving beneath his feet was streaked with blood, the scarlet stains glaring beneath the sunlight. Standing in the midst of the wreckage, Yoriichi felt a heaviness in his chest.
He hadn't seen the battle with his own eyes, yet he could imagine, with dreadful clarity, the tragedy that had unfolded here.
Not a single corner of the town remained intact.
He stepped into one of the houses nearby.
The living room was in disarray, furniture overturned. When he pushed open the door to the bedroom, the thick stench of blood filled his nose.
A lifeless form lay upon the bed.
Yoriichi frowned deeply, then sighed and gently drew a blanket over the body before quietly withdrawing from the house.
"…How pitiful."
After a brief search through the town, he finally emerged in silence, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.
There were no demons here.
Yet the cruelty of humankind compared to demons was scarcely any lesser.
At the far end of the town lay a high cliff overlooking the sea.
The vast expanse of ocean stretched out before him, the salty wind sweeping away the lingering scent of blood.
Yoriichi slowly drew his sword and examined its edge.
The matte-black blade reflected his blurred face. His eyes fell upon the single character etched near the base of the sword "Destroy."
In that moment, understanding dawned upon him.
"I see now," he murmured. "I know what I must do."
"Then you shall bring a sliver of dawn to this world."
"Black Blade"
Daybreak!
As his words fell, dust around his feet stirred without wind.
An indescribable, terrifying aura surged from Yoriichi's body, rippling outward in all directions.
In the distant forest, trees rustled violently; waves crashing upon the shore recoiled, driven back by an unseen, overwhelming force.
Thousands of meters away, upon the open sea, a dog-headed Marine warship sped toward Dragon Roar Island.
At the ship's bow stood a middle-aged man in a black suit, his thick beard framing a stern face.
The white cloak of justice draped over his shoulders fluttered fiercely in the sea breeze.
Vmmm!
Suddenly, a fearsome pressure swept across the waters.
The once-forward current of the sea abruptly reversed its flow.
Feeling that surge, the man's expression stiffened for a heartbeat—then curved into a grin.
"Conqueror's Haki…"
"To think such a figure would appear here, in the East Blue of all places."
"So, the disappearance of Unit E-23 that was your doing, was it?"
"Ha ha ha ha! Interesting! You dare raise your hand against the Navy? I won't let you off so easily!"
As he muttered to himself, a Marine hurried up behind him, saluting sharply before reporting in a loud voice:
"Vice Admiral Garp, sir! A sudden, unexplained ocean current has appeared! If we continue on our present course, there may be danger. Should we alter our heading?"
Garp turned his head slightly, still smiling.
"No need," he replied. "Hold the course. The sea will settle again soon enough."
(End of chapter)