At G-10 Base, in the vast training grounds carved out behind the mountain—a space deliberately expanded to allow monsters to unleash their full strength without restraint.
Gern had just put away the Den Den Mushi in his hand, having confirmed that Kuma had finished settling matters on the Revolutionary Army's side and successfully rendezvoused with Enel.
"Looks like it worked out pretty well," Gern muttered with amusement. "After all, Enel's poison tongue isn't something many people can put up with."
As the thought crossed his mind, the corners of Gern's lips curved into a satisfied smile.Everything was unfolding step by step, exactly as he had envisioned.
He shifted his gaze toward the other end of the training field.
There stood a solitary, towering figure—aloof and imposing.
Dracule Mihawk held the Supreme Grade Blade, one of the Twelve—Yoru.Its tip was angled toward the ground, his presence sharp and focused, his entire being radiating readiness.There was no doubt about it—he was fully prepared for a duel.
Seeing Mihawk's deadly serious expression, a sudden mischievous impulse struck Gern.
Grinning, he called out teasingly,"Hey, Mihawk.Say… before you swing your blade, don't you want to try reciting a poem or something?It'd really add to the atmosphere, you know—give it some flair."
"Poem?"A clear flicker of confusion passed through Mihawk's hawk-sharp eyes. His brow furrowed slightly."What poem?"
"Oh, you know—that kind," Gern said, gesturing animatedly as he mimicked an imaginary dramatic tone."Like chanting something before you strike—'Three thousand worlds, reduced to dust,' or'Under this blade, nothing remains uncut,'or maybe 'In the vast cosmos, all falls to a single slash'…Doesn't that just sound cool?"
The moment those utterly unserious words reached him, Mihawk's expression darkened instantly.
His grip on Yoru tightened.
Damn it.To Mihawk's ears, this sounded less like a joke and more like a roundabout insult—as if Gern were mocking him, implying that his blade wasn't fast enough, not sharp enough, and needed flashy words to make up for it.
"Bastard…"Mihawk ground out the words through clenched teeth, a flicker of provoked fury igniting in his eyes."Are you saying… my blade is too slow?!"
Before the sentence even finished—
CLANG!
A blade cry rang out—clear, piercing, sharp enough to tear through the soul itself!
There was no visible preparatory motion.In an instant, an ultra-condensed, deep emerald-green slash tore through the air, cleaving forward at a speed beyond visual perception!
The attack crossed the entire length of the training field in a blink, slicing straight toward Gern's midsection!
Wherever the slash passed, the ground was torn open by invisible sharpness, leaving behind a perfectly clean, bottomless trench.
"Haha! That's more like it!"Gern wasn't alarmed—instead, his excitement flared. His eyes blazed with fighting spirit."That's the presence I wanted!"
As he laughed, his right hand had already wrapped around the hilt of the black blade Bah Huang.Dark-purple Conqueror's Haki lightning erupted instantly, crackling wildly around the weapon.
...
At the same time—
On the opposite side of the training grounds, well outside the collision zone where Gern and Mihawk's devastating slashes clashed—
Douglas Bullet's steel-tower-like body leaned heavily against the trunk of a colossal tree that would've taken several people to wrap their arms around.
He was breathing deeply, steadily.
His slightly reddened skin was crisscrossed with scars.Some were old, but most were fresh—new wounds left behind from his recent sparring session with Gern.
Yet Bullet didn't seem to care in the slightest.
Instead, his eyes were locked onto the distance, watching the two figures whose every clash sent tremors rippling through the earth.
"Little Ba-chan~"
A crisp, playful voice chimed beside him.
A small figure knelt halfway next to Bullet—Lipo, gently swaying her white rabbit ears as she worked. Soft green healing light flowed from her hands, tirelessly mending the torn flesh and split skin across Bullet's body.
"Little Ba-chan, you lost to Gern again this month~"
At the sound of that nickname, Bullet's face—fierce enough to terrify children—snapped toward her.His eyes widened like bronze bells, glaring at Lipo.
If anyone else in this world dared to call him that—even Gern—Bullet would've lunged at them without hesitation, ready to fight to the death.
But when it came to Lipo—this non-human little rabbit, perpetually wrapped in sunlight and healing warmth—all of his murderous fury dissipated for no reason he could explain.
So he merely shot her a deliberately fierce glare…then turned his head back toward the distant battle.
His voice was low, tinged with frustration he couldn't quite hide."Gern… got stronger again.The gap between us didn't shrink. It widened."
He paused, letting out a breath that carried both self-mockery and resignation."Back then, after fighting me, he'd at least stop to catch his breath.Now? He can immediately move on to battling someone on Mihawk's level…What a monster."
"How could that be?"Lipo kept the healing light flowing, tilting her head as her rabbit ears bounced gently. Her tone was filled with earnest encouragement."Little Ba-chan, you've become much stronger too!Every sparring session, your strength and Haki keep growing!"
She pouted slightly as she continued, drifting into familiar self-deprecation."Unlike me… I've trained my physical techniques for so long, but I still haven't improved much.All I can do is stay in the back and heal everyone…"
Listening to her rambling—so habitual, so gentle—Bullet's savage face softened unconsciously.
A smile appeared.
A gentle smile.
On his face, it looked utterly out of place—yet strangely harmonious.
The way he looked at Lipo wasn't how one looked at a comrade.It was closer to how a man might look at a daughter who would never grow up.
"I'm here."
Bullet interrupted her, his voice not loud, yet carrying an unshakable certainty—a promise as heavy and immovable as a mountain.
"No one will ever touch you."
With that, his massive left hand—calloused, scarred, brutal—opened casually, almost like a magic trick.
Resting in his palm was a delicate, cup-shaped carrot cake, beautifully made and topped with a fresh mint leaf, releasing a sweet aroma.
"Wah!! Carrot cake!!"
Lipo's eyes, which had just been a little downcast, instantly went wide, sparkling with countless tiny stars.
She cheered and immediately abandoned her healing work, hopping up like a real little rabbit.She bounded forward, threw herself happily at Bullet, and hugged his wrist—thicker than her waist—shaking it excitedly as she shouted:
"Little Ba-chan is the best! The best!"
Watching her mood flip from gloomy to ecstatic in an instant,the gentle smile on Bullet's face deepened.
He even raised his wrist slightly so she could hang from it more comfortably.
In that moment—
The being known as the "Devil's Heir,"a living engine of war,
felt a sense of calm and fulfillment utterly unlike destruction…utterly unlike conquest.