Taking advantage of the moment, Shiro continued explaining to Zeff everything he knew about the Float–Float Fruit—how to make objects levitate, how to fly, even how to use gravitational shifts to pin an enemy down.
Zeff immediately rushed out onto the deck to try the abilities for himself.
At first, he struggled just to lift himself off the ground. His body wobbled in the air like a drunk balloon.
But thanks to years of physical training and an ironclad sense of balance forged in the kitchen,
he found the knack surprisingly quickly.
He adjusted his posture mid-air, sometimes darting forward, sometimes slowing to a hover,
and even began experimenting with levitating objects on the deck—barrels rising and drifting wherever he willed.
His precision was identical to the control he displayed with a kitchen knife.
In the days that followed, Zeff poured every spare moment into mastering the fruit.
By day, he cooked with full focus, his wok-flipping motions as powerful as ever.
By night, he remained on deck, adapting to the Float–Float Fruit's gravity manipulation,
working new techniques into his martial arts.
He tried things like leaving opponents weightless before striking with rapid kicks and punches,
or remotely hurling kitchen tools like guided weapons.
He had always had a robust physique and a solid martial foundation.
With that, he learned at a pace far beyond ordinary people—every session brought visible improvement.
Three months later, Zeff had mastered the fruit completely.
He could fly freely through the air, manipulate objects weighing dozens of kilos,
and combine his martial arts with his abilities with seamless fluidity.
Sometimes he opened a battle with his favorite chef-style blade technique, Water Flow Slice,
then used the Float–Float Fruit to suspend enemies helplessly in the air.
That day, Shiro stood at the bow, watching Zeff glide through the sky—
sometimes diving, sometimes spiraling, every movement light yet full of power.
Now, Zeff didn't just feed the crew's stomachs.
He could protect the Virtue with his own strength.
Shiro couldn't help smiling, thinking:
At this rate, the titles "Sky-Soaring Gold Chef" or "Golden Chef Zeff"
will spread across the seas in no time.
After all—who else could blend cooking, martial arts, and a Devil Fruit so perfectly?
The deep blue sea pushed the Virtue steadily onward.
Time slipped by between ship-songs and laughter,
and the logbook quietly reached the mark of Sea Circle Calendar 1500.
On this day, Mihawk had just finished a sparring session with Issho.
He sheathed his blade. Seawater slid from the tip, falling to the deck.
He turned toward Shiro—who was sitting on the deck, polishing the Tetanus Blade—
and spoke, cloak fluttering violently in the wind:
"Captain… I want to fight you."
Shiro looked up at him, lips curling in a knowing smile as his hands kept working.
"I've been waiting."
The duel lasted from the faint morning fog all the way into the blazing afternoon sun.
Steel and the pink glow of Paw–Paw energy crashed again and again across the sea,
raising towering waves and carving marks deep into the deck.
The crew had long stopped whatever they were doing.
Everyone stood around the edges, holding their breath.
Even the wind seemed to quiet down for this clash of titans.
When the final shockwave faded, Mihawk's black blade Yoru drooped weakly at his side.
He stared at Shiro—completely unscathed—and slowly sheathed his weapon.
He had lost. Openly and completely.
Shiro approached, a faint pink light gathering in his palm,
and pressed it gently over the wound on Mihawk's shoulder.
Warm energy flowed in, mending the torn flesh instantly.
Feeling his injury vanish, Mihawk looked up at Shiro.
Something flickered in his eyes—hesitation, then resolve.
His Adam's apple bobbed twice before he spoke in a low voice:
"Captain… I want to disembark."
"…Oh?"
Shiro's smile froze. Surprise washed over his face.
He lowered his hand.
"Are you unhappy here?"
"No."
Mihawk denied it immediately.
His eyes swept over the crew—
Jinbe with his wide grin,
Hachi hugging his shell instrument,
Issho leaning against the mast.
A rare, faint smile tugged at Mihawk's lips.
"My days on the Virtue…
have been the happiest of my life.
They are all fine companions."
"Then why leave?"
Shiro's brows knit tighter.
Mihawk drew a slow breath.
When his gaze returned to Shiro and Issho, it burned with hunger—
the hunger for strength.
**"I want to pursue swordsmanship to its absolute limit.
But on this ship… only you and Issho can challenge me.
It isn't enough.
I need more opponents.
I need to cross blades with swordsmen all over the world,
to seek breakthroughs in every battle.
Only then can I move closer to becoming…
the World's Strongest Swordsman."**
Shiro was silent for a few seconds.
Then he smiled, clapped Mihawk on the shoulder, and said:
"So that's how it is.
Then I approve."
He paused, adding:
"And Mihawk—our agreement is void.
From now on, you can leave or return whenever you want."
Mihawk's eyes reddened slightly.
He bowed deeply.
His voice wavered but remained firm:
"Even if I leave the Virtue,
I will always be a member of the Virtue Pirates."
"Alright, enough with the emotions."
Shiro waved his hand dismissively and walked toward the helm, calling out:
"Everyone! Mihawk will be disembarking at the next island
to pursue his swordsmanship journey!"
Mihawk stood still, watching Shiro's back.
His vision blurred faintly.
His fists tightened.
The crew immediately surrounded him.
Someone handed him a specially crafted sword tassel;
someone else shoved a food-filled pack into his hands.
Sadness mixed with heartfelt blessings.
Especially Hachi, who clung to Mihawk's sleeve,
asking question after question about sword technique—
from basic forms to real combat—
until Shiro barked that they were approaching the island.
Finally, Hachi let go.
Shiro slipped a few gold bars into Mihawk's pack as well.
And so—
For the sake of becoming the World's Greatest Swordsman,
Mihawk stepped off at the next island.
Standing on the pier, black blade at his back, pack over his shoulder,
he watched the Virtue sail away.
Only when its silhouette vanished beyond the horizon
did he turn around and begin his solitary journey.
T/N: If you would like to read up to 20 chapters ahead for all my works, check out my P@treon: patreon.com/GhidorahWriter
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