One Piece pirates salty life

As the overlord of East Blue, Creek had naturally recognized Zoro's identity long ago. Before even entering the Grand Line, Zoro was already known across East Blue as a formidable pirate hunter. His reputation had spread far and wide, much like a legend whispered among sailors and pirates alike.

Zoro's unique three-sword style was said to be unmatched, not only in East Blue but even throughout the Grand Line. His fierce eyes and the powerful aura he radiated made him seem almost invincible. Few could stand against him and live to tell the tale.

Opposite him, Mihawk appeared calm and indifferent. Casually, he drew a cross-shaped short sword from around his neck. The blade was so short that it seemed more like a mere trinket—too tiny to be a proper weapon. This was no accident. It was an insult in itself.

Mihawk was not just arrogant; he was outrageously disdainful. With a careless flick, he showed that the small blade was the smallest knife he could take out, completely treating Zoro as if he were no more than an insignificant insect.

"Looking down on others... there should be a limit!" Zoro muttered through clenched teeth, biting down hard on the hilt of his sword. His fists tightened around the handles of his three swords as he surged forward with lightning speed. "Don't regret it after you die!"

"Demon Slash!!!" Zoro roared, his attack a violent storm of steel.

Mihawk, with a voice dripping in condescension, replied, "Frog in the well, let me show you how vast this world truly is." His wrist moved lazily, and the short blade flicked forward.

Bite!

The blade struck exactly at the center of Zoro's three swords, blocking the attack with effortless precision.

Zoro's eyes widened in shock, then bloodshot with fury. This feeling—that someone could so easily block his strongest attack—was unbearable.

"No... this can't be..." Zoro's voice was filled with disbelief and desperation. "The gap between us... it can't be this huge!"

"There can't be such an unbridgeable gap in this world!" he screamed, a mixture of rage and sorrow flooding his heart.

In a frenzy, Zoro launched attack after attack, his blows coming like a merciless storm. His muscles throbbed with exertion, sweat poured down his face, and his breathing grew ragged. In those moments, memories flashed through his mind: the promise he made with Kuina, the pirates he had personally sent to prison, Johnny and Joseph recognizing him as their boss, and his relentless practice of the sword through every wind and rain for over ten years.

Yet all of this was nothing but a faint echo against Mihawk's effortless skill. The great swordsman toyed with him like a cat playing with a mouse.

"You're weak," Mihawk sneered. "What exactly are you clinging to? What do you hope to gain by becoming stronger?"

Noticing Zoro's madness, Mihawk spoke with a biting sharpness, "Do you want to end up like this? Pierced through the heart? Why don't you just retreat?"

Blood poured from the wound Mihawk's blade had left on Zoro's chest, but Zoro's voice remained calm and resolute.

"Ahem! Who knows? It feels like if I step back now, everything... all my vows and dreams... will vanish. As if I will never be able to return here again."

Mihawk finally looked at Zoro seriously, surprise flickering in his eyes. The young swordsman's will was something rare and precious—a willingness to choose death over failure. It reminded Mihawk of himself long ago.

"Kid... tell me your name."

"Roronoa Zoro!" came the fierce reply.

The blade in Zoro's hand began spinning wildly, like a windmill set loose by a storm. Though he had just fully realized the enormous gap between himself and Mihawk, it did not break his fighting spirit. Far from it.

"I'll remember that," Mihawk said solemnly, drawing his black blade, Night, from behind his back.

Though Zoro was still weak compared to him, his fierce will proved one thing clearly: he was no weakling. He was a strong man worth Mihawk's respect—and a worthy opponent.

With a final, desperate effort, Zoro unleashed his secret ultimate move—the highest technique of his Three Swords Style—Three Thousand Worlds.

In an instant, the two warriors staggered apart, swords shattered.

Kuina's sword, clenched firmly in Zoro's mouth, and the two long swords in his hands broke into pieces with a deafening clang.

Sheathing the remaining sword, Zoro turned around calmly, arms wide open, and laughed—a laugh full of pride and defiance.

"A wound on the back is a swordsman's shame!"

"Well said!" Mihawk acknowledged with a rare smile of praise.

With that, Mihawk delivered a final blow, and Zoro fell backward, blood gushing from his wounds, plunging into the sea.

"Zoro!!" Luffy and Usopp screamed in unison, unable to contain their panic. Luffy, using his rubber body, swung himself forward desperately, yelling, "Brother!!"

Johnny and Joseph, tears streaming down their faces, ran madly toward the sea where Zoro had fallen.

Even Sanji, who had been trying to avoid his own dreams, was moved by the scene. "Why... why didn't he run away? That guy is the world's greatest swordsman!!"

Sanji had watched the entire battle unfold and could hardly believe what he had seen. He and Zoro had never been close, but after spending time together, he didn't want to see Zoro die in vain.

"All he had to do was give up, take a step back... There was no need to fight an enemy so far above him!"

Leo, who had been silently observing Zoro without turning his gaze away, spoke in a serious voice.

"Sanji, it's really quite simple. Zoro has his own reasons for fighting until the end."

"Just like your dream of finding the All Blue, he's willing to give his life for his."

"Becoming the world's greatest swordsman is a goal he has set in his heart long ago—even if it means sacrificing his life."

Sanji fell silent, deep in thought after hearing Leo's words. In that moment, a sudden idea struck him—perhaps he should join this pirate crew that was so determined to risk everything for their dreams.

This band of pirates, willing to sacrifice life and limb to pursue their ambitions, was exactly where he belonged.

As Leo gently patted Sanji on the shoulder, the latter remained lost in a daze. Leo then turned and walked toward Mihawk, his expression solemn and composed.

The world's top power—Leo had long wished to witness it firsthand.

If he hadn't hoped to join the protagonist group, he wouldn't have lingered so long in East Blue. While he also sought to master magic, it was more because of Luffy's influence than anything else.

Sanji watched Leo's confident figure fade into the distance, a feeling of admiration stirring within him.

Whether he could persuade Leo or not, Sanji knew one thing—he himself could never change the resolve of someone like Leo. Just as when he first set out to sea, Sanji too had once been driven by a fire just like theirs.

As Leo approached, Mihawk, who was still wondering if he had been too harsh in his earlier attack, turned sharply and fixed his sharp gaze on the newcomer.

"I didn't expect to meet so many interesting people just by strolling around out of boredom," Mihawk said with a faint smirk.

"Are you also a companion of that swordsman? He is very lucky."

Mihawk had noticed Leo the moment he appeared, but unfortunately, Leo was not a swordsman.

"Thank you for the compliment," Leo replied with a smile. "I should be the lucky one. I've met such good companions. All of us are people who believe in our dreams."

He gestured toward Nami, Usopp, and the others following closely behind him.

Even Usopp, who was usually timid, now stood beside Leo with trembling legs but shining eyes.

---

Expanded Reflection

The battle between Mihawk and Zoro was more than a mere contest of skill—it was a clash of dreams and wills.

Zoro's unyielding determination to surpass his limits, even in the face of overwhelming odds, stirred the hearts of those who witnessed it.

To lose in battle was nothing shameful, but to turn one's back on the path of dreams—that was the true wound a swordsman could never bear.

The moment Zoro's back faced Mihawk was a moment of profound courage, not defeat.

And as the tide swallowed him, the fires of his resolve only burned brighter in the hearts of his friends.

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