When Teach opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a bright ceiling above him.
"Boss Teach, you're awake!" Mobius exclaimed, surprised, while Pito stared at him with wide, worried eyes.
Teach stretched slightly and asked, "How long have I been out?"
"Not long, just an hour. I didn't expect you to wake up so quickly," Mobius replied with a relieved grin.
Just as Genryusai Shigekuni had predicted, Teach's monstrous vitality and spiritual force pulled him out of unconsciousness at an unnatural pace.
His body had been burned and slashed, yet even while he slept, his instincts carried on healing, Life Return burning through stamina to restore flesh. The deep sword wound across his chest had already closed into a scar, long and indelible. Teach could erase it if he wanted, but he chose not to. Scars were a man's proof, warnings carved into skin.
He noticed the worry on their faces and smiled in his usual carefree manner. "Don't look at me like that. I'm fine. So what if I lost? It won't be like this next time."
And he meant it. Teach had long accepted that defeat was part of his climb. This one had been crushing, humiliating even, but it also carved lessons into his bones. There was no greater teacher than firsthand despair.
Mobius and the others, reassured, drifted back to their routines. Pito alone stayed close, curling beside him as Teach reached out to scratch the boy's head. Pito purred softly and closed his eyes in comfort.
Closing his own, Teach replayed the three strikes he had endured from Genryusai Shigekuni. Only three. That was all it took to crush him. Each strike had been a world of its own.
The first, a casual block, yet it revealed the abyss of power separating them.
The second, Fuzan, a pure sword stroke, its penetrating force seared deep, leaving a scar that would never fade.
The third, Shōman, swordsmanship fused with flame, an art Teach had never even conceived. Fire shaped like steel, swordsmanship that burned reality itself.
That glimpse alone had opened a new horizon before him.
He pulled out the notebook the old master had entrusted to him.
The culmination of Shigekuni's life essence of the Flame Stream Swordsmanship.
To think he had underestimated it even when he had already held it in such high regard. This wasn't just a book. It was a treasure that distilled a lifetime at the summit. Between this and the notebook left by his teacher, Teach now held two priceless legacies of fire-style great swordsmen.
He smirked faintly. "Looks like I can't slack on swordsmanship anymore."
His body had nearly reached the limits of its current stage.
Physical growth had slowed, gains coming in drops instead of floods. To break through, he'd have to refine his blade, his Haki, and his techniques.
The scar across his cheek itched faintly. Three centimeters long, thin but sharp, marking where the vertical sword light had brushed past his face. Combined with the two long scars carved into his chest, they were reminders of the line between life and death. The second time he had truly felt it, the first being Vice Admiral's suicidal blade that had cut him diagonally years before.
This time, though, Teach hadn't even had the option of countering with tricks. Against Shigekuni's sword, every path had led to ruin. Even with all his means, the result wouldn't have been better than it was now.
Yet, strangely, he slept deeply afterward. An hour of dreamless warmth, like floating in a mother's embrace, or drifting among endless stars in the dark sky—never lonely, only watched by faint light.
When he woke again, he didn't train. His chest still carried a faint burn of sword aura that refused to heal quickly.
Instead, he leaned against the bed, flipping through Shigekuni's notebook, a jar of monkey wine beside him. He sipped sparingly, just one or two drops a day. Monkey wine was far too rare to waste, and he had only four jars in total, one containing Monkey King wine.
Other wines he collected, Sword Wine from the Kingdom of Kanyfu, delicate and refreshing, treasured by locals but rarely seen abroad. He bought bottles of it, and others besides, not for himself, but for a promise he had made. They were gifts set aside for Kakarot.
The day passed quietly, though the world outside was shifting.
At Marine Headquarters, the atmosphere was tense.
"The Whitebeard Pirates have left their territory. Destination unknown," an intelligence officer reported.
"Monitor them?" someone asked.
"No," Sengoku replied firmly. "The priorities are Roger and the Golden Lion. Shiki's fleet already numbers over a hundred. His ambition rivals none but Roger's, and he must be watched closely."
"And Roger," Fleet Admiral Kong muttered, rubbing his temples. "He's chasing Poneglyphs. Forbidden things. If it gets out of hand, we'll send a fleet to wipe them out. Damn it, they're all such headaches!" His frustration spilled over as he noticed another few strands of hair falling out.
Far from that storm, Teach visited Shigekuni's villa one last time. Jedi and Linden trained under the old master's watchful eyes.
Teach carried a large jar filled with monkey wine. He placed it before Shigekuni with a grin. "This is from a friend. A rare delicacy. Drink it slowly."
The master uncorked it slightly, and the rich aroma filled the air. His eyes lit up. Though he now favored tea, one whiff told him this wine was extraordinary. He sealed it carefully, looked up, and asked with a chuckle, "What's it called?"
"Monkey Wine," Teach answered.
Shigekuni raised a brow. "Brewed by monkeys, then?"
Teach only grinned, saying nothing. His silence was answer enough.
Turning, Teach said lightly, "I'm leaving. When I come back, I'll challenge you again. And next time, it won't end like this."
Shigekuni laughed heartily, stroking his beard. "Spare me, boy. I'm just an old man, half-buried already."
Mobius, Voss, and Pito twitched at the blatant lie.
They'd seen yesterday's battle. This 'old man' was a monster. Teach himself smirked wryly. At over sixty, Shigekuni's body was as healthy as a man twenty years younger. With no hidden injuries, he could hold his peak for decades yet. And like fine wine, his swordsmanship would only sharpen with age.
With his farewells made, Teach set his course for Wano Country.
The ship sailed across open sea for five days, guided only by the Log Pose. Wano was infamous for its isolation, its natural fortress of waterfalls and cliffs shielding it from intruders. The main island lay inland, with Onigashima nearby. Six great regions divided the land; Kuri, Ringo, Udon, Hakumai, the Flower Capital, and the rest.
There were two ways in; the secret Submerged Port, reached through underwater caves, or the more reckless route, letting giant carp drag the ship up the cliffs. Teach, of course, had no idea where the port was. So carp it was.
"Boss Teach, we're really going up that?!" Mobius gawked at the towering waterfall. "That's suicide!"
"Shut it," Teach barked, leaping into the sea. He wrestled three enormous carp and bound them to the ship with rope. "Hold on tight. These will take us up."
The giant fish surged forward, pulling the ship toward the roaring wall of water. The vessel tilted dangerously, spray crashing against its hull, before the carp launched upward, dragging the ship with them.
Like dragons ascending the gate, the carp leaped higher and higher, their scales flashing in the torrent. The ship climbed with them, defying gravity itself.
Mobius clung to the railing, eyes wide. Voss cursed under his breath, gripping the mast. Pitou, however, looked around with sparkling eyes, fascinated by the sight.
The world tilted until sea became sky. And then, with a final surge, the ship breached the waterfall, carried into the calm waters of Wano's inland sea.
From afar, the crew saw the sprawling coastline of the main island, and beyond it, the dark silhouette of Onigashima.
Teach narrowed his eyes, Observation Haki stretching across the land until he found a vast forest, uninhabited and quiet. He guided the ship there and dropped anchor.
The beast had arrived in Wano.