Boundary Town Casino Lobby
The usual chatter in the grand casino lobby had vanished. Silence fell like a heavy curtain.
All eyes were locked on the central tatami arena, where mountains of gold, silver, and sparkling jewels gleamed under the chandeliers. T
hey were piled up on either side of the mat like rival kingdoms.
Kneeling gracefully on the tatami was Ahri—a pink-haired vixen with golden eyes and a foxlike allure.
Her violet-blue shrine maiden outfit clung tightly to her curves, accentuated by a massive bow across her chest.
Eery subtle smile from her bewitched the crowd.
The gamblers in the hall watched breathlessly, internally cheering.
"Go on!"
"You got this!"
"Miss Ahri, if you win, I'll even bet my ship!"
But across from her sat a man utterly unaffected by her beauty: the infamous blind swordsman, Zatoichi. A stoic samurai wrapped in a faded brown cloak. His face was weathered, eyebrows thick, lips set in stone. A sheathed cane-sword hung at his side, tied with worn cloth.
He was listening.
Where his eyes had failed him, his ears had become his weapon. Every whisper of movement, every breath, was his vision.
Ahri, still calm, lay on the mat with her legs delicately stretched, her bare feet like porcelain.
"Zatoichi," she said softly, her voice honeyed. "We're gambling everything this time."
He chuckled like a simpleton. "Alright."
Ahri pressed her hand over the bone dice cup.
"You know I've never lost."
Zatoichi answered smoothly. "Neither have I."
Ahri's brow furrowed.
A sighted man would have been an easy win.
But this blind wanderer—likely from the Land of Iron—was immune to her illusions.
Her genjutsu meant nothing to one who couldn't see.
Word was that during his time in the Land of Water, he single-handedly eliminated a rogue pirate crew.
His sword had spilled the blood of dozens without effort.
So she decided: this would be real gambling.
She offered a smile that could melt glaciers, sending waves of admiration through the crowd.
Then she shook the bone cup.
The clatter of dice within it sounded like thunder to Shun, who tilted his head slightly, tracking every sound.
Ahri's hands moved with impossible speed, the cup becoming a blur. But Zatoichi didn't flinch.
BANG.
The cup slammed down.
Silence.
Zatoichi nodded. "Nice roll."
Ahri grinned. "Big or small?"
Everyone leaned forward. This was the deciding moment.
Before Zatoichi could answer, a booming voice echoed from the casino entrance.
"Wait."
"I, Whitebeard, want in on this bet."
Heads turned as a towering figure stepped into the room—Mufasa, the self-proclaimed Whitebeard. Over two meters tall, he blocked the light from the entrance like a moving mountain.
Gasps rippled through the gamblers. He was enormous. His presence alone shifted the mood of the entire room.
Zatoichi didn't turn but gripped his cane.
Mufasa's gaze swept the room and stopped briefly on Ahri.
"Not bad," he muttered. "You're a beauty."
Then he growled, "Out of the way."
His companion, the brash Hoshigaki Jinbe, barked at the onlookers.
"Move it! Make space for the boss!"
Mufasa strode to the mat, his every step thudding against the floor. His height made even the luxurious casino feel small. He walked past Zatoichi, who twitched slightly at the passing aura.
Mufasa looked down.
"Oh? Another strong one."
He sized up the blind man.
"What's your name?"
"Zatoichi."
"What do you do?"
"Masseur."
Mufasa chuckled, "A blind masseur with a sword? Heh. Can you hit me if I try something?"
Zatoichi tensed but shook his head. "I'm just a masseur."
Mufasa grinned and sat right between Ahri and Zatoichi.
"Nice haul," he said, eyeing the mounds of treasure. "Mind if I join?"
Unlike others, his gaze on Ahri wasn't full of lust. Instead, it was calm. Clear. Deep like the sea. That alone startled Ahri.
She flicked her ponytail and turned to Jinbe.
"Who's this guy?"
Jinbe smirked. "This is my old man, Lord Whitebeard."
The crowd erupted in gasps. Hoshigaki Jinbe, feared across regions, had acknowledged someone as his father? Who was this Whitebeard?
Mufasa leaned back. "You two okay if I block the next round?"
Ahri was intrigued. She smiled slyly. "I don't mind."
All eyes turned to Jinbe. He nodded.
Ahri asked, "So, what do we bet on now?"
Mufasa pointed at the bone cup. "Didn't she already roll it? We'll go with that. One big, one small. You two pick."
Ahri and Jinbe exchanged glances, then frowned.
"If we pick one each, what do you bet on?"
Mufasa scratched his chin.
"Simple," he said. "I bet that whatever it is, I win."
He grinned like a devil.
"And if I win, you both become my children."
He extended a hand, waiting.
"Deal? Or are you too scared to roll the dice?"
You decide the size?! To be your children?!
As soon as the words left Mufasa's mouth, the entire casino erupted in gasps and murmurs.
Even the most distracted gambler could tell—this wasn't just a game anymore. This was Whitebeard's challenge.
"What the hell... this guy is nuts!"
Mufasa had just challenged both Ahri and Zatoichi—the casino's top contenders—in front of everyone.
"Damn it, Whitebeard's gone too far!"
Ahri blinked slowly, her expression unreadable. What kind of man throws out an offer to make strangers his children? Was it some strange kink? Did he not know who she was?
Clearly, he was muscle before brain. Still...
Ahri giggled behind her sleeve, amused.
"Hee hee hee... the body of this fox is clearly a daughter. How could I be your son?"
Mufasa grinned, entirely unfazed.
"In my crew, men and women are equals. You can be my daughter if that makes you feel better."
He leaned in, voice booming.
"Of course, not just anyone gets to be my child. You have to be worthy."
The gamblers around them were losing it.
"What the hell, Whitebeard?!"
"You think you can just adopt people into your gang?!"
"Ahri's gonna be my daughter!"
The moment the drunk gambler said that, Ahri's golden pupils shimmered. A pale light danced through the air and faded just as fast.
The drunkard's smile twitched. Then, he calmly drew his blade and ran it through himself.
Gasps echoed around the hall. He'd been caught in an illusion—Ahri's kekkei genkai. A deadly one.
Mufasa's eyes narrowed. "So... you have a bloodline ability like that? Intriguing."
Zatoichi, visibly irritated, cut in.
"This place is under the protection of Enel. If you make a move here without cause, you'll face him."
He didn't want a fight, not with this mountain of a man.
But Mufasa just laughed, loud and thunderous.
"Enel, huh? If he's smart, he'd want to be my son too!"
The entire room gasped again.
Enel was no joke. He was the thunder god of Border Town. To call him a child? That was no longer arrogance—it was lunacy.
Ahri and Zatoichi both stopped smiling.
This guy wasn't insane—he just wasn't afraid of anything.
"You want to be my father?!"
Ahri's voice had turned sharp, like metal scraping metal.
Everyone held their breath.
And then—
CLANG!
Two towering figures appeared at the casino doors. The temperature in the room dropped.
Enel and his right-hand, Satori, had arrived.
Satori' face twisted in fury as he stared Mufasa down.
This was the lunatic who'd ordered him to summon Enel like he was a servant?
Mufasa tilted his head. He looked Enel over.
Black metal armor covered him from head to toe, only his glowing eyes visible behind a steel oni mask.
Spiked joints, massive build—he was just a bit shorter than Mufasa, but no less intimidating.
Everything about Enel screamed power.
The storm outside darkened. Clouds gathered over the casino like summoned spirits, drawn by his rage.
The people of Border Town knew the signs.
"It's Enel! He's here!"
"Someone tried to provoke him. They're dead."
"Let's get the hell out of here!"
"You go. I'm not suicidal!"
Locals scrambled away from the casino, fleeing the brewing chaos.
Inside, the gamblers were pale.
This was supposed to be fun.
Not a death wish.
Zatoichi and Ahri tensed.
Mufasa, however, remained still. Calm. Almost bored.
He peered at Enel.
"Hmm..."
The entire room stared.
What would he say now?
Mufasa: "With all that armor... how do you even even shit?"
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Jaw. Meet. Floor.
Enel leapt in place.
"You bastard! What the hell kind of question is that?!"
Enel trembled. Wisps of gray smoke slipped from his armor's joints.
To anyone who knew him, this was the warning sign.
Enel was pissed.
Really pissed.
The gamblers couldn't take it anymore. Screaming, they stampeded out of the building.
Ahri and Zatoichi stayed rooted.
But Mufasa moved.
He stood, towering higher than ever.
Then, he threw a punch.
BOOM!
The roof exploded, launched into the sky like a rocket.
Sunlight and wind poured in.
Mufasa stood there, shadow stretching across the floor.
He cracked a grin.
"Much better. Wouldn't want to fight while holding back, right?"
He looked around the room, at Enel, Zatoichi, Ahri.
"Now... let's see who deserves to be called my child."
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Word count: 1556
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