After revealing that Ace was the user of a fire-type Logia Devil Fruit, Gojo took few steps backward. His hand moved in one smooth motion as he sheathed his sword back into its scabbard. He already knew—fighting Ace with a sword and without Armament Haki, was meaningless. Without it, he wouldn't even be able to touch Ace's elemental form, let alone harm him.
Ace tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting as he glanced sideways at Gojo. The air shimmered faintly around him, tiny flames still flickering in the area Gojo had cut with his sword. "Yes, you're right," he said, his tone casual yet edged with pride. "I'm the user of the Flame-Flame Fruit. I ate it by accident on an island."
He paused, letting out a faint breath before continuing, "At first, I didn't want to fight you using my Devil Fruit powers. I wanted to defeat you fair and square—with my own physical strength." His eyes gleamed with intensity beneath his freckled face. "But while fighting you in close physical combat, I realized it's quite difficult for me to win. Your perception is too sharp—it's as if you can predict my next attack before I even make it."
Gojo stood still, the wind tugging lightly at his blindfold, concealing whatever expression might lie beneath.
Ace clenched his fists as flames flickered faintly around them, lighting the faint sweat on his arms. "Not only that," he went on, "your control over your strength is unbelievable. You counter my attacks with perfect precision. You only use exactly the amount of power you need—enough to hurt me or push me back, but never more than necessary. You don't waste a single ounce of strength."
He exhaled, the heat radiating from his body growing stronger, wavering the air between them. "Such control over one's body… I've never seen anything like it. I believe this kind of mastery only exists among the strongest people in the world—among the most elite warriors alive."
Gojo remained silent, one hand resting loosely on his sword hilt, the other tucked into his pocket.
Gojo listened calmly to Ace's words, his posture relaxed but his presence sharp as a blade. "Are you afraid," he said evenly, "that if you defeat me using your Devil Fruit, I'll be unconvinced? If you think so, then you're quite wrong."
Ace blinked, taken aback by how precisely Gojo had struck at his hidden thought. For a moment, his flames flickered uncertainly around him. Gojo's words were true—he did want to test Gojo's physical strength, to see just how far he could push a man whose every movement seemed deliberate, flawless. But deep down, he also feared exactly what Gojo said—that using his Devil Fruit powers would make the victory feel hollow, unearned.
Gojo caught the hesitation in Ace's eyes and smiled faintly. "So, that's what it is," he said, his voice calm, almost understanding. "If you really thought that, then you're wrong. I myself am a Devil Fruit user."
Ace's expression shifted, surprise flashing across his face as Gojo's hand rose to the side of his head. Slowly, Gojo pulled down his blindfold—not fully, just enough for it to rest loosely around his neck like a small scarf. The movement was unhurried, deliberate, as if the air itself held its breath.
"Even if I weren't a Devil Fruit user," Gojo continued, his tone steady, "I'm not the kind of person who can't accept defeat. That Devil Fruit—whether you got it by accident or luck—is still your strength. And I don't know if you've heard this before, but luck itself is a form of power. Without it, many geniuses would've perished long before ever stepping into the wider world."
His words lingered in the air like a quiet truth, the faint wind carrying them between the two as the space around Ace slowly stilled.
Hearing Gojo's words, Ace slowly nodded, completely agreeing with his reasoning. Luck—alongside willpower—was indeed one of the greatest forces in the world. I'm alive today only because of my mother's will and luck, he thought, a brief flicker of emotion passing behind his determined eyes.
With that, the last trace of hesitation in his heart vanished. Gojo was also a Devil Fruit user, so this battle would not be unfair. He no longer needed to hold anything back.
Ace exhaled deeply, his resolve solidifying. He tossed away the iron pipe he'd been holding in his right hand; it clattered onto the ground with a dull metallic sound that echoed briefly through the clearing. He tightened his fists, flames licking up his arms as the heat around him intensified.
Across from him, Gojo stood silently, one hand resting on his sword's hilt, his gaze fixed and unyielding. A faint breeze stirred the hem of his coat, but his expression remained unreadable beneath that calm façade.
Then, Ace moved first. He thrust his flaming fist forward with a sharp shout—"Fire Fist!"—and a massive torrent of fire erupted from his hand, roaring like a living beast. The wave of flames shot forward with blinding speed, lighting up the battlefield in brilliant orange and gold.
In an instant, the fire reached Gojo, swallowing him whole. The explosion of heat and light burned across the ground, the air trembling under its power. Yet, until the very moment the flames consumed him, Gojo didn't move an inch. He made no attempt to dodge, no effort to escape—he simply stood there, utterly still, as the inferno engulfed him.
Seeing this, Ace's confusion outweighed his concern. He knew Gojo isn't the kind of man to recklessly take an attack head-on without a plan. There's no way he'd just stand there unless he was absolutely sure of something, Ace thought, eyes narrowing as the fire continued to rage.
That could only mean one thing—Gojo's confidence came from his Devil Fruit ability. There was no other explanation.
He must have a powerful ability, Ace reasoned silently, his gaze locked on the inferno. Maybe something that grants him total immunity to fire. If that's true… then this just became a problem. The idea tightened his chest for a moment. A Devil Fruit like that would make this fight far more difficult for me.
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