Lufi didn't care about the whispers; he only cared about the horizon, and that horizon led him directly to a secluded dojo hidden deep within the verdant mountains. The air here was thin and smelled of cedar and incense, a stark contrast to the salt-spray of the coast he had just left behind. Inside, a man with snow-white hair and three blades resting at his side sat in perfect meditation, his presence so sharp it felt like it could cut the air itself. Zoro didn't open his eyes when Lufi entered; he simply exhaled, a long, controlled breath that carried the weight of a thousand battles. "You're late", the swordsman grunted, the corner of his mouth twitching into a rare, grim smile. "I've been sharpening these for three years waiting for that specific footstep to fall on my porch."
Lufi threw the map onto the tatami mat, the parchment unrolling with a hiss that sounded like a serpent's warning. Zoro glanced at it, his single eye widening as he recognized the ancient sigils and the impossible geography of the Bones Island. "It's a death trap", Zoro stated plainly, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of the Wado Ichimonji. "The kind of place where even the wind refuses to blow because it's afraid of what's buried there." Lufi nodded, his eyes bright with a dangerous light. "That's why I need the best. We leave at midnight." They sat in silence for hours, two old lions preparing for one last hunt, unaware that a raven was already circling the mountain, its black eyes recording their every move for a master who was currently drowning his sorrows in a Caribbean tavern.