Deep within the ruins of the Golden City, Shandora.
In the distance, the battle between Luffy and Enel continued to shake the heavens and the earth. By the look of it, the clash was nearing its end, yet the two "Sherlocks" seemed completely uninterested in the outcome.
One wore a frigid expression, his calm, silent demeanor as biting as a lethal autumn wind.
The other wore a warm, friendly smile, yet behind the clarity of his glasses, a pair of deep black eyes shimmered with an inscrutable light. Upon closer inspection, it was enough to make one's skin crawl.
The two men, identical in appearance down to their spectacles, stood facing one another in silence. Combined with the one lying unconscious on the ground nearby, there were no fewer than three "Sherlocks" present. The scene was eerie beyond words.
After a long silence, the "Sorcerer" from within the mirror was the first to speak.
"Did I startle you? My apologies. After all, anyone would find it terrifying to have someone with their exact face suddenly appear out of nowhere."
With a light chuckle, the other "Sherlock" gave a slight, polite bow to the Sorcerer, offering a deep apology. That effortless sense of nobility and elegance made Sherlock recall the times he had practiced his own etiquette in front of a mirror.
"I'll admit, I was quite surprised," Sherlock replied with a calm nod. "However, I wouldn't call us 'exactly' the same. There are still significant differences between us."
"Differences?"
The other Sherlock paused, a brief look of surprise crossing his handsome face before it broke into an even more radiant smile.
"Ah, right. My beauty mark is on the right, while yours is on the left. And of course, the hair color." He pointed to the corner of his right eye and smiled at Sherlock. "Aside from those minor details, we are practically identical. After all... I am you in the mirror."
"..."
Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he began to process the situation, his gaze toward this "Mirror Inhabitant" growing increasingly wary. Everyone believes themselves to be unique, but how would one feel when a nearly identical existence suddenly manifests in the world?
"I think I've figured out how you came to be." Between his Mirror-Mirror Fruit ability and this world that was a total inversion of reality, the answer wasn't hard to guess.
Perhaps back on that isolated island in the East Blue, the moment Sherlock consumed the Mirror-Mirror Fruit and gained his demonic power, "He" ceased to be an entity entirely dependent on the Sorcerer's original body.
Sherlock glanced back at the version of himself surrounded by Robin and Chopper. Adjusting his glasses with his right hand, he asked tonelessly, "So, the reason my consciousness was pulled here was because of you? Did you save me?"
"Perish the thought," the mirror Sherlock chuckled, waving a hand dismissively.
"Though I certainly didn't want to see you electrocuted. After all, if you—the sole 'Reality'—were to perish, then I—this 'Falsehood'—could not survive either. But as for breaking the boundary between the real and the reflected... that is something I cannot yet achieve."
Sensing the flicker of doubt in Sherlock's eyes, the "Sorcerer" curled his lips into an elegant smile and continued, "While the world inside the mirror is the exact opposite of the real world, it is still entirely dependent on it. Much like a physical mirror: if nothing stands before it, no reflection appears. By that same logic, a reflection cannot affect the physical entity."
With a casual wave of his hand, an exquisitely crafted musket slowly manifested from the void. The polished silver barrel gleamed with a metallic luster, and the intricate arabesque patterns added a touch of opulence to its sleek, minimalist design.
(That's a musket from my Mirror Space collection... is this Infinite Musket Works?) Sherlock's expression shifted slightly. It seemed his mirrored self possessed the exact same Devil Fruit abilities as he did.
"The outside of the mirror is Reality; the inside is Falsehood. That Mirror Space you use as a warehouse is the boundary between the two—the only passage from the real world to the world within the mirror."
Swish, swish, swish.
Musket after silver musket materialized around the mirrored "Sorcerer," the speed increasing until hundreds of projected firearms blanketed half the sky.
"Logically, as a 'Reality' possessing a soul, it should be impossible for you to cross this 'Boundary of Falsehood and Reality'..." the mirror Sherlock murmured to himself. As he spoke, his body slowly drifted off the ground, hovering amidst the hundreds of floating muskets.
(Because his true form is 'Falsehood,' can he fly like other mirror images?) Sherlock noted silently.
"Unless..."
The floating "Sorcerer" paused. He looked down at Sherlock's hair—a mixture of silver and black that looked like deliberate highlights—and a fanatical light suddenly erupted in his eyes.
"Unless you yourself are no longer purely 'Reality,' but have become an existence caught between the two! That is why you left a portion of your reflection in the real world while your consciousness was accidentally jolted into the Mirror World by that strike of lightning!"
Whoosh—!
The sky full of muskets vanished instantly, as if they had never existed.
"It seems that blue-nosed reindeer's special medicine was remarkably effective."
Having solved the mystery, the mirror Sherlock drifted back to the ground. He approached the Sorcerer with a smile and said, "You really are quite lucky, Sherlock."
"From that perspective, there truly is a great difference between us."
The mirror version of Sherlock had been split off the moment the Sorcerer consumed the Mirror-Mirror Fruit; therefore, the side effects of the Sarsalian lineage naturally could not affect him.
"How do you know all this about the Mirror-Mirror Fruit's powers in such detail?"
Sherlock's expression turned strange. He suddenly felt as though the man in the mirror understood his own power better than he did.
"How? Simply because our environments are different."
The mirror Sherlock spread his hands with a smile. "Environment dictates perspective, and perspective dictates the direction of one's thoughts. After all, the world we inhabit is the exact opposite of yours, is it not?"
"..."
Sherlock fell silent. Just as he was about to speak, a deep, majestic tolling—like a sound from the heavens—suddenly rang out across the sky. Carried by the wind and clouds, the sound echoed between heaven and earth. The bell's toll was so clear and ethereal that it seemed capable of shaking one's very soul.
In truth, it did exactly that to a certain bespectacled man's soul...
"Ugh..." Sherlock let out a pained cry. His vision went dark, and the world began to spin. A sharp, tearing pain ripped through his mind as if it were being shredded by blades, nearly causing him to collapse.
"Oh? It seems quite a lot has happened while we were talking. Your idiot captain actually managed to ring that Golden Bell."
"I didn't expect the sound to reach you here, but it seems you'll be waking up soon."
The mirror Sherlock sighed, a trace of regret flickering in his eyes as he watched the Sorcerer's body begin to fade. "What a pity. We finally get to meet, only for you to leave so soon."
(But it doesn't matter.)
(As long as you work hard to develop the powers of the Mirror-Mirror Fruit, we will meet again soon. And when that time comes...)
At that thought, the smile on the mirror Sherlock's face remained as gentle and elegant as ever. However, there was no warmth in the eyes behind his glasses. His gaze was as cold as a bared blade, overflowing with a chilling, murderous intent.
--
Support me & read more advance & fast update chapter on my pa-treon:
pat reon .c-om/windkaze