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Three days later.
In the West Blue, the Bayonne Sea.
On the calm surface of the ocean, the massive War House moved forward at a speed surpassing that of ordinary ships. White waves splashed up on both sides, forming streaks like "white lines" that created a dazzling sight.
The blood-red hair fluttered in the wind as the tall figure stood with arms crossed, gazing out at the vast, undulating blue sea. His handsome face carried an air of nobility and cold indifference.
Beside him, three stunningly beautiful maids stood quietly, their gazes occasionally flickering toward the man with undisguised adoration and fervor.
Meanwhile, Law was still drenched in sweat on the training ground.
Poor Bepo, who had been training since early morning, was utterly exhausted, lying limply on the ground like a dog. Having witnessed the battle between Issho and Tenguyama, and fully realizing the enormous gap between himself and Doflamingo, Law's determination to exact revenge burned hotter than ever. He felt there wasn't a single moment to waste—every second counted.
"How much longer until we reach the Kingdom of Golban?" Looking out at the seemingly endless ocean, Issho asked directly.
"Master, we've already entered the Bayonne Sea. We should arrive at our destination in about half a day!"
With his hands clasped behind his back, standing straight as a pillar, Captain Mike of the Sixth Division pushed his sunglasses up and responded confidently.
"Half a day, huh?"
Issho's brow furrowed slightly, but his thoughts weren't focused on the upcoming war. Instead, he was contemplating whether he could successfully find the Devil Fruit he desired in the New World after this battle ended.
This time, he hadn't set out blindly searching for any Devil Fruit—he already had one specific choice in mind.
However, based on the scattered information he'd gathered so far, he could only make an educated guess about where it might be located. He didn't know its exact whereabouts yet, so finding it would still be uncertain.
With Germa's resources and financial power, acquiring or locating several Devil Fruits wouldn't be too difficult. But unfortunately, most of what had been circulating in the underground market over the years were mediocre fruits like the Zoan-type Dog-Dog Fruit (Dachshund Form), Zoan-type Ox-Ox Fruit (Rhinoceros Form), or Paramecia-type Ball-Ball Fruit—all ordinary abilities!
Even if these random powers were placed right before him, Issho wouldn't give them a second glance.
Someone like Doflamingo, who had awakened Conqueror's Haki at a young age, had mastered the String-String Fruit to an extreme level, pushing his ability development to its limits. Yet, even then, his strength was only on par with Issho now—and his potential was largely capped.
"The fruit isn't garbage; the user is," people often said. But such words were mere platitudes.
Even with the same talent and effort, the disparity between users of Zoan-type fruits and Logia-type fruits was glaringly obvious.
Limited by the String-String Fruit, Doflamingo's future growth had essentially hit a wall. Even if he continued refining his martial arts skills, it was unlikely he'd become significantly stronger—he'd already passed the prime age for physical conditioning.
If Doflamingo had consumed something like the Logia-type Flame-Flame Fruit or the Logia-type Ice-Ice Fruit, it was clear that he'd have surpassed his current self by leaps and bounds.
While Issho had always prioritized cultivating his physical prowess, it didn't mean he intended to specialize solely in martial arts. After all, even if he reached the pinnacle of raw combat strength in a few years, rivaling the Navy's top fighters, how much real influence could that bring?
Time waits for no one!
This journey into the New World was precisely to find a Devil Fruit worthy of his ambition.
"Hopefully, everything will go smoothly."
Staring intently at the azure sea, Issho clenched his fists tightly.
To achieve greatness, success relied on three parts luck and seven parts planning!
He believed his luck wouldn't fail him, but he wasn't naive enough to think he was some "chosen one" destined to have the world revolve around him.
"Master..."
Mike, Isabella, and the others exchanged glances, surprised. Wasn't this just a routine expedition? Why did their master seem concerned about potential problems?
Unfortunately, none of them realized that their master's thoughts weren't centered on the mission itself.
"Marshall D. Teach endured decades of pretending to be foolish aboard Whitebeard's ship just to obtain the Dark-Dark Fruit. For the Devil Fruit I desire, spending some extra time is nothing."
Issho's gaze grew intense and resolute. "After all... not only is it exceptionally powerful, but it may also grant eternal life!"
"If I can't find it, then I suppose I'm simply not meant to possess that Devil Fruit."
"Speed up..."
With a step, Issho planted himself firmly atop the giant sea slug's head and commanded, "I need to reach the Kingdom of Golban within two hours!"
"Two hours? Master, that's… too ambitious..."
Mike's expression turned pale upon hearing this.
Compressing a half-day journey into two hours would place immense strain on the giant sea slug, especially while carrying the heavy and cumbersome War House.
"I don't want to wait any longer. I intend to end this tedious war in the shortest possible time..." Issho exuded an aura of icy strength, tinged with impatience, sending chills down Mike's spine. Wisely, Mike chose to remain silent.
"I should've brought Niji or Yaji along instead!"
Issho had to admit—he'd overestimated his own patience.
"I believe you can do it, can't you?" His piercing gaze locked onto the giant sea slug beneath his feet.
"Shiver—" The giant sea slug trembled involuntarily, breaking into a cold sweat. It hurriedly "nodded," then erupted into a frenzied sprint across the ocean surface...