On the execution platform.
Tatsuki yawned and was just about to take another puff of his cigar when his Observation Haki suddenly twitched.
"Hmm?"
Tatsuki paused the finger holding his cigarette. His gaze pierced through the layers of rain, precisely locking onto a specific point in the crowd.
"Interesting."
The next instant, Mihawk moved.
Shiiing!
A clear, resonant ring of a blade echoed throughout the square.
The massive Yoru was drawn and, with a swing—
BOOM!
A brilliant emerald-green slash erupted from the ground, forcibly cleaving a path through the crowded masses, its edge aimed at the high platform.
"Admiral Saigai."
Mihawk's voice wasn't loud, but accompanied by that sharp slash, it clearly reached every corner of the deathly silent square.
The entire square fell silent for a second, then exploded into chaos.
Who was this kid? Was he insane?
Drawing a blade before a Marine Admiral?
Challenging the execution supervisor on the eve of the Pirate King's execution?
Reporters' flashbulbs went off like crazy. The big newsman Morgans was so excited his feathers puffed up.
"Big news! Absolutely huge news! On the eve of the execution, an unknown swordsman challenges Admiral Saigai?!"
Countless Marines instantly raised their rifles, the black muzzles uniformly aiming at Mihawk.
"How dare you! You dare disrupt the execution!"
"Apprehend him!"
But Mihawk ignored them. He gripped his sword with both hands, its tip pointing distantly at the figure on the high platform, his eyes overflowing with fighting spirit.
"I, Dracule Mihawk, have come in pursuit of the world's strongest swordsmanship."
"Though this is an execution ground, and you are an Admiral..."
"I request a duel!"
The moment his words fell, a torrential slash surged skyward, even dispersing a small patch of dark clouds above his head.
Everyone was stunned.
Doflamingo's sunglasses slid down his nose. Crocodile's cigar was crushed in his hand.
Where the hell did this reckless brat come from? Did he have a death wish?
On the high platform, Tatsuki looked at the sharp, unyielding young man. His expression didn't change at all, not even his posture.
"My, my. Young people these days really have no manners." Tatsuki slowly uncrossed his legs and stood up.
He extended a finger and gave a slight, dismissive shake towards the Marines below who were preparing to fire.
"Stand down."
Two simple words, yet carrying an indisputable authority.
The soldiers instinctively lowered their guns.
Tatsuki stood up, cigar in his mouth, and walked to the edge of the execution platform. He looked down at the stubborn-eyed youth below.
He wasn't angry. Instead, he grinned, smiling with unparalleled arrogance and an equally intense greed.
"Kid, you've got guts."
"If you truly were a first-class swordsman, you would surely be able to see the gap in our strength even without clashing."
Tatsuki's voice clearly rang out over the sound of the pouring rain.
"Daring to draw your blade against me... is this courage born of your will? Or out of ignorance?"
There wasn't the slightest hint of retreat on Mihawk's youthful face, his hawk-like pupils burned with fire.
"It's because of my path. I will become the World's Greatest Swordsman. That is all."
Everyone in the square heard this arrogant declaration.
In front of an Admiral, the man who personally ended the Pirate King, he claimed he would become the world's best? Has this kid's brain been soaked through by the rain?
However, after hearing this, there wasn't a single ripple of emotion on Tatsuki's face. He didn't even lift his eyelids much, simply reaching slowly into the inner pocket of his Marine coat.
The eyes of the whole world, along with the lenses of dozens of den den mushi, were focused on that hand.
Crocodile's breathing hitched.
Doflamingo's strange laughter also froze on his face.
Finally, Tatsuki's hand pulled out.
Between his thumb and index finger, he held a silver, metallic-glinting...
Nail clipper.
"..."
The square was so quiet that the sound of raindrops bursting could be heard.
Everyone thought they had seen wrong.
The lenses suddenly zoomed in to the limit, projecting a close-up of that little gadget onto screens all over the world.
"Hey..."
A vein popped uncontrollably on Mihawk's temple.
"You... what do you mean by this!"
Tatsuki didn't bother to answer, unfolding the nail clipper on his own and flicking out the file blade used for filing nails. He used that thin piece of metal to point remotely at Mihawk below.
"I'm not like those fools who use all their strength just to hunt a rabbit."
"Perhaps you might be a somewhat famous swordsman, but this is, after all, the weakest of the four seas, the East Blue."
Tatsuki weighed the file blade in his hand, a look of sincere regret appearing on his face.
"Unfortunately, I don't have a smaller blade on me than this."
These words were like a slap, fiercely striking Mihawk's face.
Mihawk's face instantly turned red. An unprecedented sense of humiliation rushed to the top of his head, making his fingers grip his sword until they turned white.
"There's a limit to looking down on people!"
He suppressed his anger, his voice squeezed out from between his teeth.
"Don't die and then regret it!"
Before his voice had even faded, he moved. The stone slabs beneath his feet shattered as he transformed into a streak of black light, charging straight toward the high platform.
Yoru left behind a straight line that tore through the curtain of rain.
"A frog in a well..."
On the Execution Platform, Tatsuki watched that lethal afterimage without even changing his stance.
"I'll let you see just how vast the world really is."
Mihawk was already within reach. He gripped his sword with both hands, using all the strength in his body to roar out the name of his technique.
"Ichimonji!"
The pitch-black blade tore through the rain, aiming straight for the center of Tatsuki's forehead.
Faced with this strike capable of cutting through steel, Tatsuki merely lazily raised his hand. Using that thin file blade meant for filing nails, he gently met the attack.
Clink.
Mihawk was petrified.
He maintained his forward-charging slashing posture, but Yoru in his hand could no longer advance an inch. That massive blade was steadily blocked there by a tiny piece of metal.
It didn't budge.
Mihawk's eyes widened, he could feel the unshakable, massive force coming from the hilt—a despair akin to crashing into the Red Line.
What did he do?
Before, no one had ever been able to see through this move.
This person, using a nail clipper...
How is it possible?
Is the gap in strength really this vast?
"How can it be..."
"How can it be so far apart!"
Mihawk roared in disbelief, his wrists twisting as the blade unleashed a continuous barrage of attacks like a violent storm.
Clink! Clink! Clink! Clink! Clink!
A series of dense, crisp metallic clashing sounds that made one's teeth ache remained in the square.
Everyone below was dumbfounded.
That young man named Mihawk—every strike was heavy and powerful, causing wood chips to fly from the edge of the Execution Platform.
But the Admiral on the high platform had one hand in his pocket from beginning to end, not even moving his heels. He only used his other hand to pinch that tiny nail file, parrying and neutralizing all the storm-like slashes one by one.
This was less like fighting and more like playing a game.
"Fuffuffuffu..."
Doflamingo laughed. "Are you kidding me? That swordsman is definitely not weak."
Crocodile stared intently at Tatsuki's movements, the cigar in his mouth having fallen to the ground at some unknown point.
"Is this the strength of an Admiral?"
Too fast, too precise.
Not a single movement from that man was redundant.
It was a manifestation of absolute control over power.
...
Mihawk panted heavily. "Haa... Haa..."
The frantic assault had rapidly depleted his physical strength, but what crushed him even more was the immense mental pressure.
"Haaaa!!!"
He let out a beast-like roar, pouring all the strength of his body into his arms to unleash his strongest ultimate technique.
Yoru drew a bizarre arc in the air, carrying a momentum capable of cutting through everything as it slashed toward Tatsuki's neck.
Arc Shadow!
Faced with this final struggle, Tatsuki finally put away his lazy expression. His gaze became slightly more serious.
"It's over."
With a flick of his wrist, the nail file's blade moved at a speed completely imperceptible to the naked eye, striking first.
Puff.
Mihawk's finishing slash came to an abrupt halt.
He slowly lowered his head, looking at his chest in disbelief. That thin file blade had pierced deep, precisely avoiding his heart and all vital organs.
A drop of blood slowly slid down the edge of the file blade, dripping onto the wet wooden boards.
Tatsuki withdrew his hand, the nail clipper was spotless.