The next morning, Shirakawa was awoken by the noisy crowd outside. Since arriving in this world, it seemed he could never enjoy a peaceful sleep.
He looked out the window to see the street packed with people.
"What's going on?" he asked the hotel owner downstairs, who was giving him a flirtatious look.
"You don't know? I thought you were here for the tournament," she replied.
"I just happened to stumble upon this island. What's happening?"
"There's a sword fighting tournament today. You should check it out, since you have a sword yourself."
'A sword fighting tournament?' Shirakawa's interest was piqued.
The only swordsmen he'd encountered so far were either world-class, like Rayleigh, Oden, and Shiki, or low-level thugs who could barely hold a sword. Shirakawa was on the cusp of becoming a Great Swordsman himself. Perhaps a tournament like this could provide the challenge he needed to unleash his full potential and break through that final barrier.
He didn't know where the tournament was being held, but he figured following the crowd would lead him there.
As he walked, he noticed many others with swords at their waists, though most seemed to be amateurs.
"Hey, boy! Stop!" an arrogant voice called out from behind him.
Shirakawa ignored it, assuming it wasn't directed at him. He had kept a low profile since arriving on the island and hadn't provoked anyone.
"Hey, I'm talking to you!" the voice repeated.
Shirakawa continued walking.
Suddenly, a hand landed on his shoulder. "Didn't you hear me calling you?" the voice said angrily.
"I heard you."
"Then why didn't you stop?"
"I didn't know you were talking to me."
"Well, you know now."
"What do you want?"
"I like your sword." The man's eyes were fixed on the Ice Blade at Shirakawa's waist. It stood out among the cheap blades carried by most of the people around them.
Shirakawa noticed that the crowd had parted, leaving a clear space around them.
"And?"
"Hand it over, and we'll forget this ever happened. Otherwise..." The man's threat hung in the air.
"Otherwise what? I'm not sure I understand."
"Don't play dumb with me, boy. Do you know who I am?"
"Who?"
"I'm the son of the Marine base commander. I run this island."
"So you're a spoiled brat, huh? Sorry, but I'm not giving you my sword."
Shirakawa shrugged off the man's hand and continued walking.
Some in the crowd looked at him with pity, while others seemed to be enjoying the show. Only one person looked at the colonel's son with a mix of pity and amusement.
It was a young man, around Shirakawa's age, with a sharp aura surrounding him. The people around him instinctively kept their distance.
"You're asking for trouble. Get him, boys! But don't kill him. Just break his arms and legs."
A few thugs stepped forward. Even though he was the colonel's son, he couldn't openly order the Marines around. He could only rely on his status to gather a group of followers.
"Last chance, kid. Hand over the sword, or else."
"No."
"Fine. Teach him a lesson!"
The thugs drew their swords, their stances clumsy and untrained. They were clearly more accustomed to brawling than actual sword fighting.
Shirakawa sighed. He had wanted to keep a low profile, but trouble seemed to find him wherever he went.
As the thugs charged, Shirakawa unleashed a burst of Conqueror's Haki. They all collapsed, including the colonel's son.
"Ahhh!" Some women in the crowd screamed, thinking they were all dead.
But Shirakawa had controlled his Haki. They would wake up, but likely with severe headaches. He had no sympathy for them; they had probably caused harm to countless innocent people.
The young man who had been watching observed the scene with a serious expression.
'This is similar to what Master can do,' he thought, not yet understanding the concept of Conqueror's Haki. 'Master must be a powerful person.'