Early morning. Isshin Dojo.
"Hoo! Hah! Hoo! Hah…"
Uniform shouts echoed throughout the countryside. The villagers living nearby had long grown accustomed to this commotion and paid it no mind.
"Woke up early today, huh?"
"You too. Off to buy groceries?"
"Yeah."
Bellamy and his crew walked along the road in Shimotsuki Village, with villagers continuously passing by them. What they found strange was that despite seeing a group of strangers who looked like pirates, the villagers here showed no signs of panic.
"This village… it gives off a strange feeling."
"This is confidence," Bellamy remarked with a sigh. Truly a rare sight. Even ordinary civilians weren't afraid of pirates. This small village was not as ordinary as it seemed. Even in the North Blue, common folk would still fear pirates.
"With strength, confidence naturally follows." Bellamy quickly understood why. The Shimotsuki family had been operating here for decades; it would be strange if they still feared the small fry pirates of the East Blue.
"The villagers here all seem to know some swordsmanship." Drake vaguely sensed that the way these villagers walked and breathed was different from ordinary people.
"Good eye." Bellamy nodded in approval. He hadn't told Drake about the background of this place; to discern traces of swordsmanship from these villagers by sight alone was truly commendable.
"Captain, you seem to be very familiar with the East Blue?" They had already visited several small villages one after another; this journey had seemed rather aimless. But now, it appeared that wasn't the case.
"Not exactly familiar. I just know a little more than others."
"Don't get hung up on such boring questions. Let's go, Drake. We'll check out the dojo." Bellamy quickly extinguished Drake's curiosity; he wouldn't tell anyone the secret of his transmigration.
"Hoo! Hah! Hoo! Hah…"
Upon entering the Isshin Dojo, the uniform shouts grew louder. "They're all just kids." No wonder the voices sounded so young. A group of underage children stood in an open area, vigorously swinging wooden swords. To one side of the open space, a middle-aged man wearing glasses was earnestly teaching something.
Bellamy recognized him at a glance: this man was Shimotsuki Koushirou.
"Looks like we have guests." The moment Bellamy and his group stepped into the dojo, Koushirou looked up. "They don't seem to be here to cause trouble."
Koushirou put down what he was doing and walked over to Bellamy. "May I ask what business brings our guests here?"
"To learn swordsmanship." Bellamy pointed to the katana at Koushirou's waist. "I've heard that the sword master of Isshin Dojo is exceptionally skilled."
"I came here specifically to learn swordsmanship from you." Bellamy gestured behind him. "Bring out the money."
Ross, carrying a large chest, placed some of the treasure looted from the Lvneel Kingdom in front of Koushirou. It wasn't much, probably worth a few million Beli, but this was already more than half the wealth of the Bellamy Pirates. Bellamy had found robbing too troublesome last time and hadn't gotten much; they had also endured a storm, losing many items during that period. To produce this much money was already quite an effort.
"Are you truly just here to learn swordsmanship?" Koushirou wasn't concerned about the money. He was more concerned about the thick scent of blood clinging to Bellamy. Just how many people had this man killed? Others might not sense it, but Koushirou saw it clearly: the aura of resentment from living souls around Bellamy was almost tangible. The Shimotsuki family had a profound scholarly heritage; Koushirou knew that only a butcher who had slain ten thousand men would carry such a dense aura of resentment. When had such a terrifying figure arrived in the East Blue?
Wait, this appearance! Bellamy's features were still very recognizable. Koushirou searched his memory for only a moment before identifying him.
"You are Mad Dog Bellamy of the North Blue!"
Hearing this epithet, the corner of Bellamy's mouth couldn't help but twitch. "'Mad Dog of the North Blue'... that really is quite an ugly nickname."
"A notorious pirate with a bounty of 60 million. I didn't expect you to come to a small place like mine to learn swordsmanship."
"If others found out, I wonder what kind of uproar it would cause." Koushirou was politely declining.
But Bellamy didn't care about that. "No need to worry. If anyone comes looking for trouble, just kill them all."
"For a beginner, how long does it take to go from holding a sword to grasping the basics?"
Sensing Bellamy's attitude, Koushirou sighed helplessly. Sixty million was merely Bellamy's public bounty; he was well aware that this "mad dog's" black market bounty was approaching five hundred million. It was best not to offend such a figure if possible.
"The fastest I've seen is just half a day." Having made his decision, Koushirou quickly got into character. "Please, come inside. We can talk slowly." He led Bellamy and his group to the dojo's reception room.
"The slowest might not even grasp the basics in several years."
"The quality of one's aptitude for swordsmanship is usually determined from birth." Speaking of this, Koushirou sounded quite emotional. The person he mentioned who had grasped the basics of swordsmanship in half a day was none other than his daughter, Kuina. Kuina was the person with the highest aptitude for swordsmanship he had ever seen, and Koushirou had always been proud of her. But… what a pity.
"Then looking at me, how long do you think it will take for me to grasp the basics?" All Bellamy wanted was to learn the basics. He had no intention of delving deeply into swordsmanship; he had plenty of fist styles to learn. Armament Haki also needed training, and the development of his Devil Fruit ability couldn't stop. He had just started on the Rokushiki's Six King Gun and hadn't had time to go deeper. Gear Third wasn't perfect either and required more medical knowledge. He had a slight inkling about Gear Fourth but hadn't found the time to explore it. If he divided his attention further, he would truly be too greedy.
Koushirou carefully examined Bellamy's hands, then his eyes, before taking the katana from his own waist and handing it to him. "Please, swing the sword."
Bellamy took the katana and casually swung it through the air a few times. His nonchalant attitude, however, made Koushirou frown deeply.
"Forgive my bluntness, but if Your Excellency merely wishes to learn some superficial swordsmanship, my disciples can teach you."
Bellamy was somewhat puzzled. "Did I do something wrong?" Didn't he ask him to swing the sword? He did swing it.
Koushirou snatched the katana back from his hand. "You were not swinging a sword. You were merely swinging a wooden stick."
"When you swing a sword, you must be devout."
"If you cannot do that, then please, Your Excellency, leave."
"Devout?" Hearing this word, Bellamy was momentarily stunned. "Devout" was a term used by believers when worshipping gods and buddhas. It was just swinging a sword; why such gravity?
Koushirou saw the doubt in Bellamy's heart at a glance. He sighed and began to explain. "Your Excellency's proficiency in physical martial arts must be quite astonishing." This, he could not fail to see.
"Then you should understand very well that the process of training in physical martial arts is actually a process of constantly polishing the body."
"That's right." Bellamy nodded. The principle was simple, but physical martial arts training was indeed that simple.
"But the Way of the Sword is different."
"The training of swordsmanship places more emphasis on the tempering of the mind and spirit."
"If physical martial arts training is like continuously hammering a steel ingot to make it increasingly tough,"
"Then swordsmanship training is like endlessly polishing a treasured sword until it is perfectly sharp."
Koushirou's analogy was very vivid; Bellamy almost instantly and completely grasped the distinction. Hammering and polishing – they looked similar, but at their core, they were two entirely different training philosophies.
"A very interesting theory on swordsmanship. I've learned something." Although it was just one school of thought, Bellamy still found it quite beneficial. "Just for these few words, this money was not spent in vain." A mere few million, exchanged for the guidance of a renowned swordsmanship master – truly a bargain.