Water blurred beneath him as Ulquiorra moved across the ocean's surface, each stride pushing him forward at speeds that turned the world blurs of colors.
Hours had passed since leaving the village.
Usopp's words circled through his mind. The Grand Line, a dangerous ocean route where strong pirates gathered. Where something called "the greatest treasure" supposedly waited at the end.
One Piece.
The boy had repeated theories he'd heard. Mountains of gold. Ancient weapons. A dragon that granted any wish.
If such a dragon exists, it would possess answers I'm seeking.
He didn't care about treasure. Gold had no purpose. Weapons served no function as he already was one. But if this One Piece could grant him answers, then it was worth seeking.
The ultimate treasure.
The sun had vanished while he traveled. Darkness stretched across the water now, broken only by the moon's light.
After a while, an island emerged ahead.
Buildings clustered near the harbor, taller and denser than Syrup Village. Stone structures rose several stories high, their windows glowing with light. Docks extended into black water, ships moored in neat rows.
Ulquiorra's feet touched dry land for the first time in hours.
Loguetown.
The streets were mostly empty at this hour. A few scattered figures moved between buildings. Lanterns hung from iron posts, casting yellow pools of light across the roads.
He walked deeper into the town.
Two men stood near the corner of a wide intersection, wearing identical white uniforms with blue trim. They carried rifles strapped to their backs.
Marines.
The long-nosed human had mentioned them. Ocean soldiers serving something called the World Government.
Their spiritual presence was faint. Weak. No different from the villagers he'd encountered before.
Ulquiorra passed them and moved deeper into the town's maze of stone and shadow.
Buildings pressed closer here. Fewer lanterns. The spiritual presences scattered throughout grew denser in one direction.
A dark alley opened between two structures. At its end, a building sat with shuttered windows.
He went closer and pushed the door open.
There were men hunched over wooden tables, bottles scattered between them. The room stank of alcohol and sweat. Every figure had weapons: swords strapped to belts, guns holstered at hips.
Conversation stopped. Heads turned.
Ulquiorra stood in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room.
After a couple of seconds, the men returned to their drinks.
"...took everything they had." A man laughed, raising his mug. "Burned half the village before we left."
"Should've seen the haul from that merchant ship last week," another voice cut in. "Silk, spices, enough berry to buy a new cannon."
"That's nothing." A third man slammed his fist on the table. "I got five million berry bounty on my head. Five million. When Marines see my face, they run."
Laughter erupted around him.
Ulquiorra walked through the noise toward the counter at the back.
The bartender looked up from the glass he was cleaning. He smiled.
"What'll it be?"
"I need information on One Piece."
Silence fell over the room, then a snort came next. Then laughter broke loose.
"Another idiot!"
"Kid, give up already!"
A fat man stumbled forward with a beer bottle in his grip. He grinned, showing his rotted teeth.
"Listen here..." He swayed. "You want treasure? Forget that fairy tale. Raid some villages. Plenty of berry there." He smirked, stepping closer. "And women."
Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed by a fraction.
The air collapsed inward.
Every soul in the tavern slammed to the floor as if something invisible had seized them and dragged them down. Wood groaned beneath sudden weight. Glass shattered. Chairs toppled.
The fat man's face hit the floorboards. His mouth gaped open, gasping for air.
Around the room, men clawed at their throats. Shoulders trembled. Some went limp completely.
Ulquiorra returned his gaze to the bar.
He raised his hand and swept it right.
The countertop exploded as wood shredded into splinters and fragments, blasting across the room in a horizontal wave.
Where the counter had stood, the bartender lay on his back as he was struggling not to lose his consciousness.
Ulquiorra stepped closer, stopping right in front of the bartender, and looked down.
"I do not require your opinions." His voice carried across the room. "Just answer the question. Nothing more. Nothing less."
The bartender sucked in air through his teeth.
"Grand... Grand Line." The words scraped out. "You need... Log Pose. Compass that... locks onto islands." He coughed. "Follow it... island to island. Pose resets... each time. Only way... to reach the end."
"Where do I acquire one."
"Shops." The bartender's eyes squeezed shut. "Here. In town. Selling them... near the docks."
Ulquiorra said nothing as he immediately went towards the door.
The crushing weight vanished like it was never there.
Men dragged air into their lungs in ragged gasps. Some crawled onto their knees, bracing against overturned chairs.
Ulquiorra ignored everyone and stepped through the doorway back into the street.
Then he halted.
A presence moved toward him. Something else entirely, as though two spirits inhabited a single form.
A couple of seconds later, footsteps echoed between the buildings as a figure rounded the corner ahead.
Tall. White hair styled backwards with two cigars wedged between his teeth and a thick white coat draped over his shoulders.
Brown eyes locked onto Ulquiorra.
"Conqueror's Haki." He bit down on his cigars. "In the weakest sea."
He reached for the weapon strapped to his back.
"Who the hell are you?"
Men stumbled out of the building behind Ulquiorra. They gripped doorframes, coughed, dragged themselves into the street.
Smoker's eyes tracked them, and his expression hardened.
"Scratch that." He raised his weapon. "We'll talk after I get you in handcuffs."
Ulquiorra looked at smoker.
"Sorry to disappoint, but I have other matters to attend to."
He walked forward, ignoring Smoker.
Smoker's arm dissolved into white smoke and shot toward him, tendrils coiling through the air to wrap around Ulquiorra.
But the smoke exploded from an invisible force, forcing it to disperse.
"What the—"
Ulquiorra stopped walking and glanced at Smoker.
"Why are you trying when it's pointless."
His body shifted, smoke pouring from his shoulders and legs. He lunged forward, closing the distance in seconds, his jitte swinging toward Ulquiorra's head.
Ulquiorra sidestepped, avoiding the strike.
Smoker spun around as smoke propelled him into another strike. "Like hell I'll let a criminal with Conqueror's Haki walk free!"
The jitte came down in a diagonal slash.
And then nothing. Ulquiorra didn't move, and Smoker himself didn't feel any resistance, and for some reason, his body felt much lighter.
His eyes dropped.
His right arm was missing, and blood ran down his coat in a thick stream.
He screamed, collapsing to his knees, as his left hand clamped over his shoulder.
He forced his head up through the pain.
Ulquiorra stood there holding his severed arm by the wrist with the jitte still in his hand.
How?
Smoker's thoughts fractured.
How? Can he already use Armament Haki?
Ulquiorra's expression remained blank as he glanced at the arm in his hand, then back at Smoker.
Before tossing it back to him.
Ulquiorra turned and walked toward the port.
Behind him, he sensed Smoker getting back on his feet.
He glanced back.
Smoker was standing up, his left hand gripping his shoulder.
"I'm not... done"
Why.
The difference between them was absolute. This human had already lost his arm. His spiritual pressure was barely a flicker compared to what he possessed.
Yet he still stood.
"White... Blow!"
His left arm dissolved into white smoke that shot forward. His fist stayed solid at the end, rocketing toward Ulquiorra's face.
Ulquiorra appeared directly in front of Smoker's face.
Smoker's eyes widened.
Ulquiorra raised one finger and flicked his forehead.
Smoker was sent flying backward, crashing through multiple buildings before slamming to a stop in the rubble.
Ulquiorra lowered his hand.
Pathetic.
That a creature so weak would challenge him repeatedly. That it would stand when it should remain down. That it would attack when the outcome was already decided.
He didn't understand the purpose.
The action served nothing. Accomplished nothing. Changed nothing. Only inflicted more pain on oneself.
Received injuries from Ulquiorra . Broken ribs and is in a weak state.
Ulquiorra turned and resumed walking toward the port, increasing his speed as Buildings blurred past him.