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Whoosh—!
A massive blade stopped mere inches from Ryokugyu's forehead.
The sheer force of the wind pressure knocked Ryokugyu to the ground, leaving him trembling as he stared at the enormous weapon above his head, terror etched across his face.
In an instant, Ryokugyu's body shrank down to his normal size, and blood trickled from a fresh wound on his forehead.
The fear gripped him. If that blade had descended even a fraction of a second later, he'd have been sliced in two—nothing but a memory in this world.
Kitaro's body also began to shrink, quickly returning to his normal human size.
"You've been badmouthing me for a while now. I've let it slide because I honestly don't care," Kitaro said, his tone calm but cold. "But here's a lesson for you: when facing someone stronger than you, learn to show some respect."
Turning away, Kitaro left without another glance.
Akainu might have his own twisted sense of justice, but at least he had the guts to stand up to the Five Elders.
Ryokugyu, on the other hand, was nothing but a loyal lapdog to the Celestial Dragons, reveling in his prejudices and cruelty. He had strength, sure, but his character was absolute garbage.
If not for the damage it would do to his reputation within the Marines, Kitaro would've killed him already.
Ryokugyu had survived because of Kitaro's mercy, but in his deluded mind, he thought he'd earned his survival. A man who relied on performance-enhancing drugs to stay relevant would never amount to anything.
"Ugh..."
Ryokugyu opened his mouth to retort, but the sharp look in Kitaro's eyes made him swallow his words.
"Sengoku!" someone called out as the former Fleet Admiral stepped forward.
"I declare Uchiha Akira the winner!" Sengoku announced, his gaze lingering on Kitaro with deep suspicion.
The match had revealed something startling—"Akira had Conqueror's Haki, and an exceptionally potent one at that." Sengoku thought.
It made Sengoku uneasy.
"Uchiha Akira," he began, his tone measured. "You once mentioned that your clan is from another world. How is it possible that both you and your brother can use Conqueror's Haki?"
Kitaro knew it was the time to reveal more information as Akira, so he chuckled softly. "From your perspective, Conqueror's Haki is something you're born with. And you're not wrong. But for us, it's a little different. What you call Conqueror's Haki, we see as a specialized transformation of mental energy."
He paused, letting the explanation sink in before continuing. "The Uchiha clan is a people naturally blessed with extraordinary mental energy. My brother and I are exceptional even by those standards. To put it simply, as long as someone in the Uchiha clan isn't a complete idiot, they can unlock Conqueror's Haki through hard work."
"W-what did you just say?!"
Sengoku's eyes widened in disbelief, and Ryokugyu froze, utterly stunned.
What kind of absurdity was this?
Conqueror's Haki was supposed to be a gift bestowed upon one in a million. And now this man was claiming that anyone in the Uchiha clan could develop it?
"I'm just stating the facts," Kitaro said with a shrug. "Before I left my clan, Conqueror's Haki wasn't rare among us. Uchiha Shisui, Uchiha Itachi, and our patriarch, Uchiha Fugaku, could all use it. Now, I don't know how many have it, but I'd guess at least ten. Our clan has no shortage of talent."
Sengoku's heart skipped a beat. Even Ryokugyu, who rarely cared about anything, was rattled.
The realization hit like a thunderclap.
The Uchiha clan wasn't just powerful—they were a force of nature.
Could the Navy, or even the World Government, truly stand against such an overwhelming lineage?
Sengoku took a deep breath to steady himself. He wasn't the Fleet Admiral anymore. This was a problem for his successors to handle.
The Uchiha clan's power was terrifyingly deep, but Sengoku also knew the World Government had secrets of its own—secrets that could rival even this.
"Next match: Issho versus Chaton!" Sengoku announced.
"I forfeit!" Chaton declared without hesitation.
His goal in entering the Admiral competition wasn't to win but to make a statement. Losing to someone like Issho wasn't shameful; it was far better than losing pathetically to someone insignificant.
"That leaves Issho versus Uchiha Akira."
"Akira, do you need to rest before the next match?"
Kitaro shook his head casually. "No need. Honestly, I didn't use much effort in the last round."
Ryokugyu's face darkened.
Not much effort? Did that mean defeating him was easy?
"Very well, let's begin!" Sengoku announced before stepping aside.
Issho, also known as Fujitora, faced Kitaro with a calm demeanor. "A young hero like you... it's hard to imagine what other powers you might be hiding."
Kitaro grinned. "Don't make it sound like I'm some sneaky guy playing tricks. I just haven't met anyone strong enough to make me go all out yet."
"That's not deceit—it just means you're stronger than most. Only a mightier beast can bring down a tiger. I wonder if I'll have the honor of seeing your true strength."
"Why don't we find out?"
"Very well," Fujitora said, drawing his cane-sword. A faint purple glow surrounded him as he released waves of gravitational energy toward the sky.
Rumble!
Moments later, a deafening roar filled the air. Everyone looked up to see a massive meteorite blazing through the atmosphere, flames trailing behind it as it plummeted toward the arena.
"Is that... a meteorite?"
For many of the Marines, this was their first time witnessing Fujitora summon such a devastating attack.
"Whoa, isn't that overkill right off the bat?" someone muttered.
This meteorite was at least twice as large as the one Fujitora had summoned during his duel on the uninhabited island.
Fujitora chuckled. "I feared I might not even get the chance to use a big move, so I thought I'd start with one."
Kitaro leapt into the air, soaring toward the descending meteorite.
"What's he doing?"
The crowd watched in confusion. Wasn't he supposed to destroy the meteorite with some massive energy blast?
In the blink of an eye, Kitaro reached out and placed his hand on the meteorite.
Whoosh!
The meteorite's descent slowed dramatically, its fiery speed dwindling until it hovered in midair.
Seconds passed, and the massive rock hung suspended a few hundred meters above the ground.
It looked as if Kitaro was single-handedly holding the meteorite aloft.
Fujitora, who had been readying his sword for another move, sighed and sheathed it.
"You win, young man," he said with a smile. "This match is yours."
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