Kyle strolled along the cobblestone streets of the quiet harbor town. It was a place far from the turbulent center of the Grand Line, with no major Marine bases or infamous pirate crews to disturb its peace. The air was filled with a sense of tranquility he hadn't felt in a long time. The scent of sea salt and freshly roasted fish mingled together, while the shouts of vendors and the laughter of children wove a vibrant, cheerful symphony.
This long-lost sense of peace allowed Kyle's constantly alert nerves to finally relax. He held a string of roasted fish he had just bought. Its skin was golden and crispy, sprinkled with fine spices, while the meat inside was tender and juicy. The cook had charred the outside just a little, giving it a smoky flavor that grew more delicious with every chew.
He walked and ate at a leisurely pace, like any other tourist enjoying a day out. He looked with genuine interest at the small shops lining the street and the ordinary people passing by. He savored this feeling. There were no deafening cannonballs flying through the air, no complex enemies to outwit, and no new island that had to be conquered. He was just an ordinary traveler, experiencing the local culture and tasting the most authentic food.
"Boss, another string over here!" he called out to a vendor, casually tossing a few Berries onto the counter.
Just as he took the steaming second skewer of fish and was about to continue his pleasant walk, a sudden stillness came over him. Something was wrong.
A faint gaze, like a persistent shadow, was fixed on him from somewhere behind. This gaze was peculiar. It didn't hold the simple curiosity of a passerby, nor did it have the naked greed and malice he was used to from pirates and bounty hunters. Normally, no one could spy on him without his masterful Observation Haki instantly detecting them. But this time, his pursuer's technique was incredibly clever; their presence was suppressed almost completely. If it weren't for a unique sense he had developed using his Devil Fruit—a kind of "magnetic vision" that allowed him to perceive the subtle distortions in the biological magnetic fields of living things—he might have missed it entirely.
His senses pinpointed a tall man wearing a dark green hooded cloak, lurking in the shadows of an alleyway. The man's face was almost completely hidden, revealing only a determined-looking chin. He was pretending to browse a stall selling cheap seashell necklaces, but his attention was clearly focused elsewhere.
Tsk, what a pain, Kyle grumbled internally. On the outside, however, he maintained the bored expression of a tourist, continuing to slowly gnaw on the roasted fish in his hand.
His mind raced, quickly reviewing the possibilities. Could it be the World Government? An agent from one of the Cipher Pol units? Unlikely. Their style was typically a swift, silent assassination, not this kind of cautious tailing from a distance. This felt more like an observation, or perhaps a test. A bounty hunter? Even less likely. The last fool who had been arrogant enough to target him for a bounty was likely long gone.
He glanced at the children running and playing near the street corner and frowned slightly. No matter who this person was, starting a fight in the middle of this peaceful town was not an option.
With that thought, he quickly finished the rest of the fish in three large bites. The now-bare bamboo skewer spun unconsciously between his fingers, making a faint whooshing sound as it cut through the air. He changed his direction and began walking unhurriedly towards the sparsely populated outskirts of the town.
Kyle leisurely made his way through the crowded central square, passed the last few rows of residential houses, and soon the cobblestone path under his feet gave way to a rugged dirt road. The clamor of the town was replaced by the sound of the wind whistling through the trees and the distant calls of birds. The world suddenly felt very quiet.
He could feel that the hooded man behind him seemed a little hesitant. The faint presence that had been locked onto him faltered for a fraction of a second. Not a killer, then, Kyle thought. A professional assassin wouldn't hesitate. He also wasn't some hot-headed rookie looking for a fight, or he would have charged in by now. This was a cautious, thoughtful tracker. Was he waiting for the perfect moment to strike?
Kyle didn't slow his pace. He walked until he reached an open clearing bordered by a broken cliff. The view here was wide, with the towering rock face at his back and the roaring waves of the sea crashing far below. It was a good place for a "chat." He came to a stop and slowly turned around.
At the exact moment he turned, the hooded man, who had been following from the tree line, felt his pupils constrict to pinpricks. The man in front of him, Kyle, had vanished. He didn't leave an afterimage from moving at high speed; he simply dissolved into thin air, as if he were a puff of smoke blown away by the wind.
The hooded man's scalp tingled. An overwhelming, instinctual sense of crisis washed over him, leaving no time for thought. His body instantly transformed into a gust of wind and shot backward in a desperate retreat. His reaction was incredibly fast; he had already made his move at the same instant Kyle disappeared.
However, he was fast, but Kyle was faster.
Buzz—
A faint vibration hummed in the air. The gust of wind that was retreating at high speed suddenly froze, as if it had been seized by a giant, invisible hand. The wind was violently forced to re-form, coalescing back into a stumbling human shape. In that same instant, a sharp object materialized out of thin air, pressing firmly against the man's Adam's apple.
It wasn't a knife or a sword. It was the bamboo skewer. The simple wooden skewer that had just held roasted fish was now as black as ink and as hard as steel, coated in an extremely dense layer of Armament Haki. It was pressed steadily against the man's throat; the slightest push would be enough to pierce right through his neck.
An icy killing intent radiated from the tip of the skewer, making every hair on the hooded man's body stand on end. As his cloak fluttered from the sudden stop, his hood fell back, exposing a young face etched with hardship and fierce determination. In the golden light of the setting sun, the distinctive dark red, checkered tattoo on the left side of his face was particularly striking.
It was the revolutionary who would one day stir up a storm that would engulf the entire world: Monkey D. Dragon.
Kyle looked at the familiar yet unfamiliar face before him and raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Oh, it's you," Kyle said, the Haki around the bamboo skewer dissolving away. He casually tossed the skewer aside, as if the life-or-death standoff from a second ago had never even happened.
"Former Marine, Monkey D. Dragon," he said, his tone holding a hint of amusement. "Is there something you need from me?"
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