They did not tell him the enemy's name.
They only said:
"If you fall and do not stand again, you are not ready."
The gate opened.
And something walked out that did not feel like a man.
It was huge.
Not just in size.
In weight.
Every step made the stone complain.
Every breath felt like it pushed the air away.
Sanji's instincts went silent.
Not screaming.
Freezing.
"…So this is it," he muttered.
Ivankov's voice echoed from above.
"This is a New World executioner. A thing that exists to end stories."
The creature looked at Sanji.
And released its presence.
The world collapsed.
Sanji's knees hit the ground instantly.
Blood ran from his nose.
His vision blurred.
"…Tch…!"
This wasn't killing intent.
This was existence.
Like standing in front of a mountain that had decided you were optional.
"Stand," Ivankov said calmly.
Sanji's teeth shook.
"…I am…"
He tried.
Failed.
The pressure crushed him deeper.
"You will not dodge this," Ivankov said. "You will not outspeed it. You will not outplay it."
Sanji's fingers dug into the stone.
"…Then what's left…?"
Ivankov's voice was quiet.
"Endurance. And will."
The monster moved.
Not fast.
Inevitable.
The blow landed.
Sanji flew.
Hit the wall.
Collapsed.
Something cracked.
His vision doubled.
"…Heh…"
He tried to stand.
His leg buckled.
The monster walked closer.
Every step felt like a verdict.
"You are not here to win," Ivankov said. "You are here to remain."
Another blow.
Sanji bounced.
Rolled.
Stopped.
His body screamed.
Not in pain.
In protest.
You should not be here.
He coughed blood.
"…Yeah…"
He pushed himself up.
"…That's kind of my thing now."
He closed his eyes.
And felt.
Not the enemy.
Not the room.
Himself.
His breath.
His bones.
His will.
The pressure came again.
And instead of being crushed—
He pushed back.
Not outward.
Inward.
Condensing.
Focusing.
His leg started to… feel different.
Heavy.
Dense.
Like it was no longer just flesh.
The monster struck.
Sanji raised his leg.
The impact exploded.
The ground shattered.
Sanji slid back—
—but he was still standing.
His eyes widened.
"…It didn't…"
Ivankov's voice sharpened.
"…Again."
The monster struck again.
Sanji met it again.
This time—
He felt it.
Not pain.
Resistance.
Like his will had become weight.
"…So this is…?"
"Busoshoku," Ivankov said. "Armament."
Sanji started laughing.
Not happy.
Not confident.
Desperate.
"…I don't care what you call it…"
His leg began to darken, not in color, but in presence.
The air around it felt wrong.
Heavy.
Compressed.
"…As long as it holds."
The monster raised both arms.
This one would end it.
Sanji knew.
His body was breaking.
His mind was burning.
But—
He stepped forward.
Not back.
Not to dodge.
To plant himself.
He remembered Zeff.
He remembered the table.
He remembered Luffy's back.
I will not be moved.
Fire bloomed around his leg.
Not wild.
Not raging.
Condensed.
Focused.
His will.
His heat.
His refusal.
He whispered the name without thinking:
"Diable Jambe — Tenacity.""Ifrit: Cœur de Fer."(Iron Heart.)
He kicked.
The impact did not echo.
It detonated.
The monster was launched.
Not far.
But enough.
The ground was gone.
The wall was cracked.
The room was silent.
Sanji stood there—
Leg smoking.
Body shaking.
Blood pouring.
Still standing.
Then—
He collapsed.
When he woke up, he was in a bed.
Bandaged.
Barely breathing.
Ivankov stood nearby.
"…Did I… win…?"
Ivankov smiled.
"No."
Sanji laughed weakly.
"…Figures."
"But," Ivankov continued, "you did not disappear."
Ivankov looked at him seriously.
"You stood in front of something that ends men."
Sanji closed his eyes.
"…Yeah…"
"And you remained."
Ivankov turned away.
"Your training is complete."
Sanji's eyes opened.
"…What?"
"You will still lose in the New World," Ivankov said. "Often."
Sanji smirked.
"…Great."
"But you will not be erased."
Ivankov looked back.
"That is enough."
That night, Sanji stood alone on the cliff.
Wind.
Stars.
Sea.
No cigarette.
No noise.
He lifted his leg.
Felt the weight inside it.
"…So this is my path."
Not chasing light.
Not becoming a monster.
Just—
Standing where others get removed.