Ian had spent enough time with the Legendary Navigator System to understand one thing.
The obvious objectives were rarely the important ones.
The real rewards were always hidden beneath the surface.
Meeting Makino.
Befriending Garp.
Living among the people of Windmill Village.
None of those had appeared as quests.
Yet every one of them had contributed to completing the check-in.
Shimotsuki Village would be no different.
The system had specifically highlighted Koushirou.
That alone was enough to make Ian pay attention.
If his experience with Windmill Village was any indication, the master of Isshin Dojo was almost certainly tied to a major hidden objective.
And hidden objectives usually came with excellent rewards.
Across the table, the village chief nearly choked on his tea.
“You want to challenge Koushirou?”
Ian nodded cheerfully.
“Challenge is a strong word.
I’d just like to cross swords with him.”
The old man stared.
“That isn’t a casual thing!”
Ian laughed.
The chief, however, looked completely serious.
Which was understandable.
For years, swordsmen from across East Blue had traveled to Shimotsuki Village hoping to test themselves against Koushirou.
Many had tried.
None had won.
The more stories Ian heard, the more interested he became.
A hidden expert.
A respected teacher.
A man whose true strength remained unknown.
Exactly the kind of person worth meeting.
“Don’t worry.”
Ian waved dismissively.
“A friendly spar is still friendly.”
The chief looked unconvinced.
Very unconvinced.
Eventually, though, the conversation drifted elsewhere.
The rest of lunch passed pleasantly.
Old village stories.
Fishing mishaps.
Childhood memories.
Local gossip.
Ian listened attentively to all of it.
One of the first lessons he’d learned as a traveler was that people loved being heard.
And every story revealed something about the place they called home.
By the time lunch ended, the afternoon sun was already beginning its descent.
The village chief walked him to the door.
“I’m sorry we don’t have a proper place for you to stay.”
The old man sounded genuinely apologetic.
Ian smiled.
“My ship is comfortable enough.”
“If you need anything, you’ll find me at the harbor.”
The chief laughed.
“Then I’ll know exactly where to look.”
The rest of the afternoon passed peacefully.
Ian wandered through the village.
Visited a few market stalls.
Shared drinks with locals.
Picked up supplies.
The usual routine.
As sunset approached, he stopped by Carlo’s tavern to replenish his alcohol supply.
While waiting, he noticed a familiar figure entering the establishment.
A young girl carrying two large containers.
Kuina.
She purchased enough alcohol to stock a small celebration before leaving without lingering.
Ian watched her disappear down the road.
Thoughtful.
Very thoughtful.
Then a smile appeared on his face.
“Well.”
“That explains a few things.”
Back at the harbor, he immediately spotted a familiar figure.
A small figure.
A sweaty figure.
A very determined figure.
Running.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Ian raised an eyebrow.
“Early today?”
Zoro either didn’t hear him or lacked the energy to answer.
The boy simply kept running along the shoreline.
His face was red.
His breathing ragged.
His legs visibly trembling.
Yet he continued forward.
Ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous.
Ian approved.
He set down his supplies, gathered a pile of driftwood, and started a fire.
Soon a large metal pot rested above the flames.
Fresh water began to simmer.
Then came herbs.
Spices.
Peppers.
Various seasonings collected throughout his travels.
The aroma immediately spread through the beach.
Ian grinned.
“Now that’s better.”
Even he was getting hungry.
Eventually, a completely exhausted Zoro staggered toward the fire before collapsing face-first into the sand.
Again.
The beach was rapidly becoming his natural habitat.
“How many?”
Ian asked.
“Twenty-three.”
The answer sounded like it had crawled out of a grave.
Ian nodded.
“Three more than yesterday.”
A faint spark of pride appeared in the boy’s eyes.
“Progress.”
He tossed over a bottle.
Zoro caught it automatically.
Then immediately started drinking.
After a few gulps, his face turned slightly red.
“Mr.
Ian…”
“Mm?”
“This stuff is really good.”
Ian stared.
Then lightly smacked him on the head.
“Ow!”
“Of course it’s good.”
“I paid for it.”
Zoro rubbed his head.
A solid argument.
Hard to refute.
“You still owe me seven laps.”
The reminder immediately ruined his mood.
“You remembered.”
“Unfortunately.”
Ian pointed toward the shoreline.
“Finish them later.”
Then he glanced at him.
“Have you eaten?”
Zoro froze.
“…No.”
Ian sighed dramatically.
“Unbelievable.”
“What?”
“You showed up early because you wanted to train.”
“Yeah.”
“You skipped dinner.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“…”
The boy had no defense.
Ian lifted the lid from the pot.
A cloud of fragrant steam exploded upward.
The effect was immediate.
Zoro’s head snapped toward the pot.
His eyes widened.
His stomach growled loudly.
Painfully loudly.
The silence afterward was awkward.
“What…”
The future swordsman stared at the bubbling broth.
“What is that?”
His voice carried genuine awe.
Ian laughed.
“Hot pot.”
Zoro blinked.
“What pot?”
“Hot pot.”
“That doesn’t explain anything.”
“Good enough.”
One by one, Ian began adding ingredients.
Fresh meat.
Vegetables.
Fish.
Wild fruits gathered from the island.
Everything disappeared into the simmering broth.
The smell became almost unbearable.
Zoro swallowed.
Then swallowed again.
His entire existence seemed focused on the pot.
Ian shook his head.
“This is what happens when you train on an empty stomach.”
The boy wasn’t listening.
He was completely mesmerized.
Eventually, Ian took pity on him.
“Hot pot is simple.”
He stirred the broth.
“Good ingredients.”
“Good broth.”
“Good company.”
“That’s all you need.”
A moment later, he prepared two bowls.
One for himself.
One for Zoro.
The boy accepted his bowl like it was a sacred treasure.
“Can you sit up?”
“Yes.”
“Can you hold chopsticks?”
“Yes.”
“Can you stop staring at the meat?”
“No.”
Ian burst out laughing.
Some things truly never changed.
He picked up a slice of meat.
Dipped it into the sauce.
Took a bite.
Zoro immediately copied him.
The result was dramatic.
His eyes widened.
His body froze.
For a moment, the entire world seemed to disappear.
Then—
“THIS IS AMAZING!”
Several nearby seagulls fled in panic.
Ian winced.
“Indoor voice.”
“We’re outside.”
Ian paused.
“Fair point.”
Zoro immediately resumed eating.
Meat.
Fish.
Vegetables.
More meat.
Even more meat.
The food vanished at an alarming speed.
Ian watched the destruction with amusement.
The future right-hand man of the Pirate King clearly possessed the appetite to match his future reputation.
Some things were simply inevitable.
By the time the pot was empty, Zoro looked ready to explode.
The boy collapsed onto the sand.
One hand rested on his stomach.
The other lay limp at his side.
“I can’t move.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“This is different.”
“It really isn’t.”
Within minutes, he was asleep.
Soft snores soon drifted through the night air.
Ian stared at him for a moment.
Then sighed.
“Yep.”
“No changes at all.”
Past Zoro.
Future Zoro.
Apparently both were capable of eating themselves unconscious.
The traveler cleaned up quietly.
Packed away the remaining supplies.
Then walked to the edge of the dock.
The ocean stretched endlessly before him.
Moonlight shimmered across the waves.
A bottle rested comfortably in one hand.
Perfect.
Ian closed his eyes.
And trained.
Observation Haki spread outward.
Armament Haki settled beneath his skin.
Conqueror’s Haki remained dormant, quietly slumbering in the depths of his spirit.
But tonight, his focus was elsewhere.
Swordsmanship.
The Assassin Seven Sword Intent.
A cold presence slowly emerged around him.
Invisible.
Sharp.
Deadly.
The sea reacted first.
Fish abruptly scattered beneath the surface.
Several leapt from the water entirely.
Seabirds altered their flight paths without understanding why.
The atmosphere itself seemed to sharpen.
This wasn’t Haki.
Not exactly.
It was something different.
Killing intent.
A swordsman’s edge.
An assassin’s will.
A blade hidden behind a smile.
Ian slowly opened his eyes.
For a brief moment, moonlight reflected from them like polished steel.
Then the pressure faded.
The harbor returned to normal.
The waves rolled peacefully once more.
And somewhere behind him, a sleeping green-haired boy dreamed of becoming the World’s Greatest Swordsman.