Brrrrrrrm!
In the dark night of Osaka, an engine sound echoed.
Car enthusiasts would have recognized the sound of a motorcycle engine, and true connoisseurs would have recognized the sound of a Kawasaki ZXR 400 R.
And of course, the owner of that motorcycle was me, Zoro. (Kono Zoro Da)
Back home, I waited for nightfall to go out. Straddling my motorcycle and carrying my 3 swords, I raced through the streets of Osaka.
I was only wearing a hoodie under which there was a black compression shirt.
On my lower body, I wore simple deep black jeans and black sneakers as well. For anyone who saw me, I would most likely be the perfect ninja.
Besides, my helmet was identical to that of a certain ninja from G.I. Joe, Snake Eyes.
Under it, half of my head was bare while the other half was covered with a half-mask.
Brrrrrrrm!
I was fully covered; my identity had no chance of being discovered, yet anyone who saw me would instantly know that I was a child.
I was taller than the national average for children in Japan, but I didn't have an absurd height.
Still, I wasn't afraid of getting stopped by anyone. Painted on the motorcycle was the clan emblem: an Ashura with nine swords.
VROOOOM!
You can guess it, but I'm the one who chose that emblem. Replacing an ancestral clan symbol caused some talk, but it wasn't my job to deal with the clan's situation… at least not for now.
The law enforcement of this city know they must not mess with anyone carrying that symbol, so even if I rode during the day, nothing would change.
Brrrrrrrm!
However, I preferred riding at night to avoid problems and other inconveniences.
I finally spotted the house. But once I reached it, I passed it.
I kept going until I reached 100 meters away. Then I braked.
Skrii!
I got off the motorcycle and took my time parking it properly. I removed my helmet, allowing the fresh Osaka air from the sea to hit me.
Placing my helmet on the motorcycle's handlebar, I didn't bother fixing my hair because as soon as my hands were free, I immediately covered my head with the hood of my hoodie.
Once done, I didn't head toward the house immediately. I first took the time to check my weapons.
On my hip: "Katanas? Check."
At my sides, hidden by my hoodie: "Glocks? Check."
On my wrists: "Throwing knives? Check."
"Okay, I'm ready."
Don't make me say what I didn't say—I have complete confidence in my swords and in my skills as a swordsman. But still, it's better to prepare for every eventuality.
"In addition, I still don't fully control flying slashes, I need distance alternatives."
Added to that, it didn't cost anything to test other applications of Armament Haki besides my katanas or directly on my body.
Having finished my preparation, I set out to break jaws and asses.
---
Narrator
Zoro did not enter the house through the door. Instead, he chose an approach he found more logical in a clandestine investigation.
He climbed one side of the house and entered through the open window of a bedroom as silently as possible.
He had sensed through his Haki the absence of living beings, but he wasn't sure there wouldn't be surveillance devices.
He arrived inside the bedroom crouched, and he stayed in that position for a good 10 seconds, deeply satisfied with himself.
'All those Metal Gear Solid sessions weren't for nothing after all.'
After his little comment, he stood up and left the bedroom. He didn't bother inspecting it because he had already sensed the absence of residue in it.
In fact, it wasn't just this bedroom. It was the case for all the rooms in the house except the living room.
He stepped into the hallway, making sure to stay in the shadows while making as little noise as possible.
There were no bodies left, but the floor was still stained with blood. There were also chalk outlines and police tape everywhere.
Zoro ignored all of that—he wasn't an investigator; he couldn't discover clues with those elements.
Instead, he focused on what he could do. He reduced the range of his Observation Haki to increase the sharpness of his detection.
And it worked. Until now he could only detect relatively significant traces of cursed energy, but now he could detect even the faintest residues.
He followed the trail of the residues and realized they led outside.
A smile spread across Zoro's face.
"Jackpot."
He followed the traces and found himself in the street. He was about to continue when he asked himself a question.
'I should probably take the motorcycle? You never know, it might be far.'
After a few seconds of thinking, he shook his head. 'No, the engine noise would alert them.' He then thought of a means of transportation. 'Yeah, that'll do.'
He abandoned the idea of following the cursed energy residues directly and instead headed for his motorcycle.
Arriving in front of it, he didn't get on it but instead grabbed something attached to its side.
'Not as fast as a motorcycle but I'll manage.'
It was a skateboard.
It was surprisingly simple. Just a red deck and black wheels. There were no decorations on it.
Zoro didn't take long to put it on the ground and hop on. With a single push, he propelled himself forward.
FOUSH!
He was incredibly fast, going over 180 kilometers per hour. That should normally be impossible, but impossible is not One Piece.
With the absurd strength of his body reinforced by real training equipment thanks to his position, Zoro's physical abilities had exploded. Giving himself such a tremendous push was simple for him.
But there was another detail to consider. A normal skateboard shouldn't be able to withstand such speed, especially because it was constant.
But nothing about Zoro's methods was normal. Using (once again) the clan's money, he had a custom-made skateboard built for himself.
The deck was steel, the trucks titanium, and the wheels polyurethane reinforced with carbon fiber.
The combination of all these details allowed him to move at the speed of a car while making as little noise as possible.
Zoro was therefore able to follow the traces of his prey at a mind-blowing speed.
He continued like this for several minutes until he realized where the residues were leading him.
'I'm leaving Osaka.'
Realizing this, he then remembered something that made him brake abruptly.
The back of the skateboard scraped the ground, creating sparks.
'The residues are leading me toward Kyoto.'
That realization made him hesitate.
'Should I really continue the chase? I'm about to return to the world I had fled from.'
Just as he had that thought, he felt vibrations coming from his hip—or rather, from his swords.
He looked at them and quickly understood the meaning.
'What? You're telling me to stop acting like a scaredy-cat?'
The swords vibrated again as if to answer the question.
'But is it really worth it?'
This time he didn't even need his katanas to get his answer: "Yes."
'Besides the fact they're doing this in MY city, I'm not cowardly enough to let people get killed when I have the strength to prevent it.'
He opened his palm and clenched it tightly.
'And it's been a while since I've made progress with my Haki. I need real combat to evolve.'
He had made his choice.
He got into position and propelled himself again.
"Ready or not, Jujutsu world, I'm coming—hold on tight."