POWAAAAA...
We have again crossed the 50 powerstones and as promised, here's a Bonus Chapter for my lovely readers.
Remember to spread my agendas with everyone....
P.S: Hey guys, can you help me with something. I don't know what I am doing wrong, but it looks like something is wrong with my algorithm. It looks like my story is not reaching to the other readers on webnovel. I mean, I did put on the perfect tags and even written good synopsis. I am not using A.I to write my story, and giving you guys a good length of chapters too. Yes, I understand that English is not my first language, but it's not like it is that bad, it is!?? If you guys have any suggestion for little me, then please go ahead and comment on this.
Thanks a lot....
Attendance Please:
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It was five in the morning, and the first rays crept over the horizon like molten gold, spilling slowly and deliberately. Yuji stood at the water's edge, feeling the cool sand shift beneath his feet, watching the light bleed orange and crimson into the underbelly of scattered clouds.
Both he and Zoro had woken half an hour earlier, moving quietly through the pre-dawn stillness. Nami was curled on her side, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, her breathing deep and untroubled. Luffy lay sprawled on his back, mouth wide open, a thin line of drool tracing a path toward his ear. The two men exchanged a glance and let them rest.
They moved to a stretch of beach farther from the camp, where the sand was firmer and the only witnesses were gulls too sleepy to care. Their exercises were methodical: Zoro counting sit-ups under his breath, the muscles in his abdomen coiling and releasing; Yuji performing sets of jumping jacks.
Zoro paused at his hundredth sit-up, hands still locked behind his head, and watched Yuji's silhouette against the brightening sky. "You sure you want to do this with real blades?"
Yuji stopped mid-motion, then folded forward to touch his toes, his spine curving like a drawn bow. His face disappeared between his knees, and his voice was muffled but sharp: "Don't tell me you're scared of hurting me?" He straightened back up, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips.
Zoro's eyes narrowed. "Tch. I'm not scared of anything." He sat up, reaching for his swords. "It's just, I don't want you to get hurt too badly and become dead weight for us."
Yuji's smirk deepened. "Oh, you don't need to worry about that."
He turned and walked toward the secluded curve of the beach, where the tide had retreated, leaving a stage of damp, packed sand. Zoro followed, his boots leaving deep impressions. Behind them, the camp was quiet except for Luffy's snoring.
They faced each other twenty paces apart. Zoro unsheathed his two swords, unnamed, and settled into his stance: feet planted firmly, center low, the swords like extensions of his arms.
Yuji stood with one hand in his pocket.
The morning breeze lifted strands of pink hair.
Zoro's brow furrowed. "Getting cocky, are we?"
"It's not cockiness, Zoro." Yuji's voice came almost gentle. "Because I know I will win. After all…" He tilted his head, and a wide smirk spread across his face. "You're weak."
The words landed like a stone in still water.
Zoro's eyes narrowed to slits, his jaw tightening until the muscle twitched beneath his skin. "I'll show you who's weak."
He lunged forward.
The first strike came from the right, a diagonal slash intended to test distance and reaction. Yuji's body swayed like a reed in the wind, the blade passing so close it should have grazed his clothing but did not. Zoro followed with his left sword, delivering a horizontal cut at waist level. Yuji's open palm met the flat of the blade with a sharp smack, redirecting it harmlessly past his hip.
Zoro reset and attacked again, faster this time, unleashing a two-sword flurry that left no room to breathe. Steel whistled through the salty air. Each strike was met with the same infuriating casualness: a sidestep here, a backhanded deflection there, as if Yuji was swatting away flies.
"What's wrong, Zoro?" Yuji's voice carried over the clanging of metal. "I thought you were a proper swordsman, not just swinging your swords like a child. Is this all you've got?"
He punctuated the taunt with a kick to Zoro's midsection, hard enough to send him stumbling back across the sand, his heels digging furrows into the ground.
Zoro planted his feet firmly, chest heaving, and clicked his tongue against his teeth. The irritation burned in his throat like swallowed fire. "Looks like I was taking you lightly."
He drove both swords into the sand, the blades sinking to the crossguards with a soft hiss. His hands moved to his left forearm, unwrapping the black bandana with deliberate slowness and tying it around his head.
Finally, his hand closed around the Wado Ichimonji.
The white blade caught the morning light as he drew it. He placed it between his teeth, the familiar weight settling against his tongue, and pulled his other two swords from the sand.
"Get ready, Yuji." His voice was rough against the steel. "This is my full strength."
He attacked without hesitation.
The barrage was relentless—countless swings, each feeding into the next, forming a storm that should have overwhelmed any defense. The Three-Sword Style blossomed like a dark flower, with strikes coming from impossible angles, the Wado held in his mouth serving as the center around which the other two swords spun.
But Yuji was different.
He moved around Zoro's attacks like water, dancing between them. Then he stepped forward, flowing inside Zoro's guard. His palm connected with Zoro's chin, the force lifting him off his feet and sending him hurtling backward. Wado Ichimonji flew from his mouth, tumbling end over end through the air, and landed point-first in the sand ten feet away, quivering like a spear.
Zoro hit the ground hard, the breath driven from his lungs. He rolled onto his back, one hand moving to his chin, fingers probing for damage. Nothing was broken. Nothing even dislocated. Just the sting of impact and the deeper sting of humiliation.
"Argh…" He sat up slowly, watching Yuji walk over to where Wado stood in the sand. The man bent down, plucked the sword free, and gave it a few experimental swings.
Then Yuji tossed it back.
The hilt struck Zoro's palm with a familiar weight, and Yuji pointed at him, curling a single finger in the universal gesture of come again, smirk never leaving his face.
Zoro's teeth clenched tightly. He placed Wado back between his teeth, feeling the cold steel against his lips, and charged forward once more.
An hour passed.
The sun had climbed higher, burning away the morning mist and transforming the sand from gray to gold. Seagulls circled overhead, indifferent to the drama unfolding below.
Zoro stood hunched forward, his swords hanging loosely in his grip, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead and ran in rivulets down his chest. His arms trembled from the effort of holding his blades, and his shoulders ached with deep, bone-deep fatigue.
He had tried everything.
Every technique he knew, every trick he had learned through years of relentless training, every desperate move born of frustration—Yuji had countered each one with the same calm, untouchable grace. The man hadn't even broken a sweat. He stood with his hands in his pockets once more, watching Zoro with an expression that was almost… bored.
Zoro assumed his final stance.
Arms crossed, swords aligned, body coiled like a spring—the Oni Giri, his signature move, was the attack that had ended countless fights before they truly began. He poured everything into the charge, moving faster than he ever had in his life, the world narrowing to a single point: the space where Yuji stood.
The swords clashed together.
And Yuji was already gone.
He sidestepped at the exact moment of impact, his foot sweeping out to catch Zoro's ankle, and the swordsman's momentum betrayed him. The world spun. Sand filled his mouth, nose, and eyes. He hit the ground face-first with a force that drove the air from his lungs, leaving him sprawled like a beached fish.
For a long moment, he remained still.
He lay there, tasting grit and defeat, listening to the gentle lap of the waves and the distant cries of gulls. His swords were scattered somewhere to his left, and his pride was in even smaller pieces.
A foot connected to his backside.
"Hey, get your ass up." Yuji's voice called from somewhere above him. "I know you're not dead, so stop sulking."
Zoro's voice was muffled by the sand. "I am not sulking." He pushed himself up enough to speak clearly. "I am just thinking about what happened and how weak I really am."
He could almost feel Yuji's shrug. The man was now gazing out at the sea, where the sun had fully risen above the horizon, casting the water in shades of orange and red.
"What did you learn from our sparring session?"
Zoro considered the question. "That you're a freak of nature."
A soft laugh escaped. "I'll take that as a compliment. Now, what's the other thing you've learned?"
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the rhythm of the tide. Zoro lay with his face still half-buried, and in the darkness behind his closed eyes, he saw every mistake he had made, every opening he had left, every strike he had telegraphed.
"That I need to step up my training," he said at last.
He pushed himself up, sand cascading from his hair and shoulders. His swords lay nearby, and he retrieved them. When he stood, he met Yuji's eyes directly.
"That thing you said last night, was it true? That Luffy and I can awaken this Conqueror's Haki?" he asked.
Yuji just shrugged. "Maybe yes, maybe no."
"Just say it clearly, damn it!" Zoro said irritably.
Yuji gave him a serious look. "Look, Zoro, whether you and Luffy can do it depends entirely on both of you. It's your own willpower. It may come easily, or it may never come at all. You just need to keep pushing forward and never stop what you're doing."
Zoro remained silent for a few minutes, digesting Yuji's words. He glanced at the slowly rising sun. "My willpower?" he muttered under his breath.
Yuji slapped the back of his head. "Oi, stop overthinking. Whether you can do it or not, only the future will tell. For now, focus on your basic training and building your strength to reach that level."
Zoro nodded. "You're right. Even if I don't possess Conqueror's Haki, I will train harder and surpass everyone through my skills and strength alone."
Yuji grinned. "Now that's what I call real motivation."
"So, when do we start our real training?" asked Zoro.
"Soon. But first, tell me—can you cut steel?" Yuji asked in return.
Zoro opened his mouth, then closed it. A memory surfaced: his master's words about the breath of all things and listening to the rhythm of steel. He understood the concept, but the execution eluded him. He shook his head in frustration.
"Then we'll start with that. After you can cut steel, we'll begin your Haki training."
Zoro nodded, sheathing his swords. He looked at Yuji, and something in his expression shifted.
"Tell me…" he said quietly, "Were you going all out in our spar?"
Yuji answered without hesitation, "No."
Zoro's eye twitched.
"If I were really going all out," Yuji continued, "I could have easily broken your two unnamed swords."
Zoro stared at him. "Huh? Really?"
"Really."
Zoro let the information sink in.
"You know, I was thinking of letting Luffy join too." Yuji said, glancing toward the camp. "That way, both you and he can grow stronger. Having a good sparring partner speeds up growth. What do you say?"
Zoro considered it. Luffy was chaos incarnate, unpredictable and relentless. Training with him would be less about discipline and more about managing a controlled disaster, which, he supposed, was exactly what he needed.
"Meh." He shrugged. "Fine by me. The more, the merrier."
Yuji nodded. "Good. Now, we should wake them up and get ready to set sail again."
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