Inside a sword dojo, Lucien sat upright at a low table, a cup of steaming tea before him. Across from him sat Koushirou, wearing glasses and holding a worn copy of the Sunflower Manual, his expression filled with awe.
Beside him, Kuina carefully brewed tea, her movements calm and refined.
Earlier that day, Lucien had offered to trade the Sunflower Manual for a ship. Kuina, understanding the value of his request, had introduced him to Koushirou. And that was how this meeting came to be.
"This is… incredible," Koushirou murmured, his fingers trembling slightly as he turned another page. He was completely captivated by the manual. It was a swordsmanship text unlike anything he had ever encountered—filled with strange yet profound insights that seemed to pierce through his very understanding of swordplay.
Even more mysterious was the writing—it was in a script he had never seen before, yet somehow, he could understand every word. That alone spoke volumes about its worth. And the contents themselves… though much of it was beyond comprehension, what little he grasped hinted at an entirely different dimension of mastery. For Koushirou, this was nothing short of a treasure.
"This manual is extraordinarily valuable," Koushirou said at last, closing it carefully and setting it on the table. His expression grew serious. "Are you truly only trading it for a ship?"
"Yes." Lucien nodded, his tone calm but weary. "This manual is useless to me now. I only wish to return home."
"If that's all, you'll be taking a huge loss." Koushirou frowned slightly. He was not one to take advantage of others—such behavior went against both his honor and his sword.
Lucien hesitated before adding, "If possible, I'd like to exchange it for a ship, some food, and… perhaps one million Berries' worth of treasure."
"Agreed," Koushirou replied without a second thought.
Lucien blinked. "Thank you."
"I should be thanking you," Koushirou said with a faint smile. "A ship and a million Berries can't compare to what this manual might offer." He had a feeling—an instinct—that this manual could change everything he knew about swordsmanship.
"The ship and supplies can be ready by tomorrow morning," Koushirou continued. "You'll have to stay the night."
"No problem." Lucien smiled faintly. He wasn't afraid of Koushirou turning on him. If the man had ill intentions, he wouldn't have spoken so openly about the manual's value.
"Kuina, arrange a room for Mr. Graves," Koushirou said. "Prepare whatever he needs—and call Zoro, too."
"Yes, sensei."
"Wait, I'll go with you," Lucien said, standing. "It's a good chance to look around."
Kuina nodded seriously. "Please follow me."
The two left the room together. Outside the dojo, Zoro was still training under the scorching sun, drenched in sweat and pushing his limits.
"Zoro, come with me to the village," Kuina called out.
Zoro stopped, frowning. "What for?"
"Just come."
Reluctantly, he obeyed, walking over with a defiant glare.
Lucien offered a polite nod. "Hello."
Zoro didn't respond.
"Rude," Kuina said sharply and gave him a quick jab to the head. He yelped and rubbed the spot but didn't argue—no one ever won an argument with Kuina.
The three set off toward the village, gathering the supplies Lucien had requested.
---
That night, Lucien lay awake in the room Koushirou had arranged, staring at the ceiling in silence. The ship was ready. Only the food remained to be loaded in the morning. Kuina and Zoro would likely help with that.
That would be the perfect time to act. Koushirou would still be absorbed in studying the Sunflower Manual. By the time he realized anything was wrong… Lucien would already be gone.
But there was one concern—Koushirou's Observation Haki. Still, no one could maintain Haki constantly. He had to take that chance.
He had only three months and five days left. No time to hesitate. He needed to eliminate Zoro, then move on to Cocoyasi Village to deal with Nami, before finding a way into the New World.
Three months… far too short. If anything went wrong—storms, delays, unexpected encounters—it could all collapse.
If things became truly desperate, he'd use [Random Teleportation]. He didn't want to, but he couldn't afford failure.
If he had more time, he might've liked to stay—learn a few techniques, maybe even master Soru. But time wasn't a luxury he had.
With those thoughts circling his mind, Lucien finally drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.
---
The following morning, Kuina and Zoro helped him prepare for departure. Zoro's expression was sour, clearly unhappy about the errand, but he obeyed without complaint.
After two hours of work, everything was ready. Before Lucien stood a small merchant ship. The cabin was stocked with enough food for a month, along with one million Berries in gold, silver, and jewels.
Among the treasures were ten gold coins and a golden dagger inlaid with red and blue gemstones. Lucien pocketed both, admiring the craftsmanship briefly.
"Mr. Lucien, do you need anything else?" Kuina asked.
"No, that's all." Lucien shook his head.
"Then I wish you a safe voyage," she said softly, bowing her head.
Lucien smiled faintly. "Thank you."
As Kuina and Zoro turned to leave, Lucien drew the pistol from his coat—a Type 92 he'd kept hidden all this time—and pulled the trigger.
"Bang!"
The shot rang out like thunder. Blood splattered. Zoro froze—then looked down in horror as Kuina collapsed into his arms, her white training clothes staining red.
At the last instant, she had thrown herself between them.
"Kuina!" Zoro shouted, panic in his voice. Her breathing hitched, blood dripping from her lips.
Lucien's eyes were cold, expression unreadable. He aimed again.
"Bastard!"
Zoro's roar shook the air as he charged forward, eyes bloodshot, fury consuming him.
Lucien sidestepped his punch effortlessly, his movements efficient and practiced. Then he countered—his fist shot forward, aimed straight at Zoro's throat. Military combat technique—swift, lethal, designed to kill.
But the pistol was empty now. Zoro barely managed to block with his left arm, stumbling back from the force.
Lucien advanced with ruthless precision. If this had been the Lucien of a month ago, he wouldn't have stood a chance. But now? He could kill ten grown men without breaking a sweat.
"I'll kill you!" Zoro bellowed, lunging again. Lucien's eyes narrowed. The moment Zoro came close, he spun and delivered a sweeping kick, catching Zoro's legs and sending him sprawling.
Zoro tried to roll away, but Lucien's next kick was already descending toward his head. Zoro blocked with his arms and slid across the deck, gasping for air, sweat and blood mixing on his skin.
The two clashed again. Lucien's attacks were precise and vicious—always aimed for the throat, eyes, or vital points. Every strike sought to end the fight. Zoro, unarmed, was clearly outmatched.
Then—a sharp sound.
"Pfft…"
Lucien's dagger pierced Zoro's chest. Blood gushed instantly, splattering across the deck. If Zoro hadn't twisted at the last second, the blade would've struck his heart.
Lucien wrenched the dagger free, crimson dripping from its jeweled edge. He raised it again, ready to strike.
But then—a force like a thunderclap froze him in place. A surge of sword aura, sharp enough to split the sea, tore through the air. The world itself seemed to hold its breath.
In an instant, Koushirou appeared on the deck—his presence crackling with Armament Haki. His expression was no longer calm; it was pure fury.
When he saw Kuina bleeding and Zoro barely clinging to life, his killing intent exploded.
"Lucien Graves…" Koushirou's voice trembled with rage. "How dare you."
He swung his palm through the air, releasing a blinding arc of sword energy.
Lucien's eyes widened. "How—!? He's too fast!"
No time to think.
"[Random Teleportation]!"
The world distorted around him. The attack struck where he stood—but his body was already fading into light.
The sea split open, a roaring chasm of waves tearing toward the horizon. When the light vanished, Koushirou lowered his hand slowly, his expression grim. The enemy had escaped—using some kind of unknown power.
He clenched his jaw, the sound of the waves filling the silence.
---