Carlo’s entire body went rigid.
A rough, calloused hand slammed onto the back of his head and forced him down against the counter.
Above him came a chorus of harsh, unpleasant laughter.
“Hehahaha…”
The bartender’s face drained of color.
Fear swept through the tavern in an instant.
Then everything exploded into chaos.
Customers scrambled for the exits.
Chairs crashed over.
Mugs shattered across the floor.
People shoved past one another in their desperation to escape.
Within moments, the tavern was empty.
No one wanted to stay.
No one wanted to stand in the way of armed bandits.
They were ordinary villagers.
Farmers.
Fishermen.
Shopkeepers.
People trying to live peaceful lives.
Not warriors.
Not heroes.
And certainly not fools willing to gamble their lives against a wanted criminal.
Soon, only Carlo remained.
Standing alone behind the counter.
Trembling.
Trying not to make a sound.
“M-Mister Bandit…”
His voice shook badly.
“If you keep holding my head down…”
He swallowed nervously.
“…I can’t pour you a drink.”
Fushi blinked.
Then shrugged.
“Oh.”
A beat later, he released him.
“Fair point.”
Carlo stumbled backward, nearly tripping over himself.
“Forget serving us.”
Fushi waved lazily at his men.
“Help yourselves.”
The moment he was free, Carlo bolted.
The tavern door flew open with a bang as he sprinted into the street.
The bandits burst into laughter.
Fushi watched him disappear around a corner.
“Look at that.”
A crooked grin spread across his face.
“Where exactly does he think he’s running?”
More laughter followed.
Several bandits had already begun ransacking the tavern.
“Boss!”
One of them emerged carrying two bottles.
“This place is packed!”
“There’s enough booze here to last for weeks!”
“And they’ve got meat too!”
The discovery immediately lifted everyone’s spirits.
Fushi spread his arms dramatically.
“Then what are you waiting for?”
He grabbed a bottle, pulled the cork free with his teeth, and took a long drink.
“Take everything worth taking.”
His grin widened.
“And once you’re done…”
He pointed toward the heart of the village.
“We collect the food.”
The bandits erupted into cheers.
“YES, BOSS!”
A few minutes later, they poured into the streets.
Armed.
Half-drunk.
And overflowing with confidence.
Shimotsuki Village felt strangely silent.
The market stalls stood abandoned.
Doors were barred.
Windows tightly shut.
Not a single villager could be seen outside.
Fushi snorted.
“They’re hiding.”
One of his men laughed.
“What did you expect?”
The bandit leader chuckled.
“Fair enough.”
He raised a hand.
“Break the doors down.”
The raid began.
Homes were smashed open.
Villagers were dragged outside.
Storerooms were emptied.
Rice.
Grain.
Salted meat.
Preserved vegetables.
Anything useful disappeared into the bandits’ growing stockpile.
House after house.
Street after street.
The operation proceeded with alarming efficiency.
Standing atop a pile of stolen supplies, Fushi surveyed the results.
His smile stretched wider.
“Not bad.”
He rubbed his chin.
“This village has more food than I expected.”
The nearby bandits laughed.
“No kidding.”
“Best haul we’ve had in months.”
“We hit the jackpot, Boss!”
Their laughter echoed through the village.
Every cheer only deepened the despair of the captured villagers.
Before long, several bandits returned with another prisoner.
“Boss!”
“We found the village chief!”
An elderly man was shoved forward.
His wrists were bound behind his back.
Though fear showed clearly in his eyes, he forced himself to stand straight.
“You should leave.”
His voice wavered slightly.
Still, he continued.
“There is a sword master in this village.”
Fushi raised an eyebrow.
The chief drew a breath.
“Koushirou of Isshin Dojo.”
The name alone caused a spark of hope to appear among the villagers.
Koushirou’s reputation ran deep throughout Shimotsuki Village.
For years, he had been the shield protecting their peaceful lives.
“If he learns what you’ve done…”
The chief steadied himself.
“…you’ll regret it.”
For a moment, silence lingered.
Then the bandits exploded with laughter.
“Hahahaha!”
“You hear that?”
“He’s threatening us!”
Several nearly doubled over.
The village chief stared in confusion.
The villagers exchanged uneasy glances.
Something felt wrong.
Normally, Koushirou’s name was enough to scare off troublemakers.
Yet these men seemed completely unconcerned.
When the laughter finally subsided, Fushi wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
“Oh, you’re talking about the sword master from Isshin Dojo?”
The chief nodded.
“That’s right.”
Fushi’s grin sharpened.
“Then I’ve got some unfortunate news.”
A chill swept through the crowd.
“One of my scouts spotted him this morning.”
Fushi spread his hands.
“He’s visiting nearby villages to gather supplies.”
The words struck like a hammer.
The villagers felt their hearts sink.
Fushi laughed openly.
“And from what I hear…”
“…he won’t be back anytime soon.”
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Oppressive.
The last traces of hope vanished from many faces.
The village chief lowered his head.
Koushirou wasn’t here.
No one was coming.
Fushi drank in their despair with obvious enjoyment.
“As for everyone else…”
His grin became cruel.
“They’re already being brought here.”
Not long afterward, another group of bandits arrived.
This time, they were dragging prisoners.
Two familiar figures stood among them.
Zoro.
And Kuina.
Both were bruised and covered in dirt.
Both glared at their captors with open hatred.
Neither showed the slightest hint of surrender.
“Boss!”
One of the bandits laughed.
“We caught these little monsters at the dojo!”
Fushi blinked.
Then burst out laughing.
“What is this?”
He circled them slowly.
“A pair of child swordsmen?”
The truth was simple.
When the bandits attacked Isshin Dojo, Zoro and Kuina had been sparring.
Despite their age, they fought back fiercely.
Far more fiercely than anyone expected.
Several bandits had even been injured before they managed to subdue them.
But skill alone couldn’t overcome overwhelming numbers.
Eventually, exhaustion caught up to them.
And now they stood among the prisoners.
Zoro struggled violently against the men restraining him.
“LET GO OF ME!”
His face was red with fury.
“I’LL KILL YOU!”
The bandits tightened their grip.
The boy fought like a cornered beast.
Kuina wasn’t much calmer.
Her sharp glare never left Fushi’s face.
“You’ll regret this.”
Fushi laughed.
“Oh?”
She lifted her chin defiantly.
“My father will make you pay.”
The bandit leader paused.
Then snapped his fingers.
“Wait.”
Recognition flashed across his face.
“You’re Koushirou’s daughter.”
Kuina stiffened.
Fushi grinned.
“So you’re the famous little prodigy.”
Mockery dripped from every word.
Several bandits chuckled.
Fushi slowly looked her up and down.
Then laughed again.
“You?”
“A future swordsman?”
The surrounding bandits joined in.
Kuina’s fists clenched.
Fushi leaned closer.
“You’re already growing into a young woman.”
His smile became unpleasant.
“And you still think you’re going to become some legendary swordsman?”
Several villagers looked away in discomfort.
Fushi shook his head.
“Girls chasing sword dreams.”
“What a joke.”
He planted a hand on top of her head.
Heavy.
Dismissive.
Patronizing.
“Why waste your life chasing something impossible?”
The words cut deeper than any blade.
Kuina’s eyes blazed.
“No.”
Her voice trembled.
Not with fear.
With anger.
A memory surfaced.
A warm afternoon.
Sunlight across the dojo yard.
Ian’s calm voice.
Girls can become great swordsmen.
Of course they can.
Kuina bit down hard enough to hurt.
“You’re wrong.”
She glared directly into Fushi’s eyes.
“Girls can become great swordsmen!”
Fushi rolled his eyes.
“What nonsense.”
With a casual shove, he knocked her to the ground.
Kuina hit the dirt hard.
“KUINA!”
Zoro exploded.
His entire body strained against his captors.
Veins bulged across his neck.
His eyes burned with rage.
“GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER!”
For a brief moment, it looked as though he might actually break free.
The bandits staggered from the force of his struggle.
Fushi remained unimpressed.
He walked toward the boy at an unhurried pace.
Step after step.
Like a man approaching an angry puppy.
“Oh?”
His grin widened.
“The moss-head brat is angry.”
Zoro’s jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.
If his hands were free…
If he had a sword…
If he had one chance…
He would cut this man down without hesitation.
Fushi crouched in front of him.
The sneer on his face made even some villagers feel sick.
“Relax.”
His voice dripped with contempt.
“I haven’t decided what to do with you yet.”
Meanwhile…
Far from the village center, at Shimotsuki Harbor, Ian sat quietly at the end of a weathered dock.
A freshly caught fish dangled from his line.
The sea breeze rolled in from the horizon.
Everything seemed peaceful.
For a moment.
Then Ian’s eyes narrowed.
“Hm?”
The relaxed smile faded.
His Observation Haki spread outward.
Across the harbor.
Across the village.
Across every street and alley.
And what it found made his expression turn cold.
Dozens of unfamiliar presences.
Violent.
Hostile.
Filled with malice.
The sort of people who left suffering wherever they went.
The fish slipped from the hook and dropped back into the bucket.
Ian slowly rose to his feet.
The ocean wind tugged at his coat.
His gaze settled on Shimotsuki Village.
A dangerous gleam flickered in his eyes.
“Well now…”
His voice was quiet.
Far too quiet.
“It seems we’ve got visitors.”