On Aizen's battlefield.
Aizen stood quietly in the arena, the smile on his face gentle enough.
Yet no one dared step forward to fight him.
A man's reputation was like a tree's shadow.
Everyone knew of Aizen's strength, and his fighting style was extraordinarily bizarre.
When you thought you had won, Aizen would appear behind you completely unharmed and cut you down.
"What you see is only what I allow you to see."
This was Aizen's famous saying, now spread throughout the starry sky.
Some called Aizen the God of the Unseen.
All manner of strange legends had been pinned onto Aizen.
Aizen knew about his reputation. Seeing that no one challenged him, he was happy to take it easy.
However, his gaze turned toward another battlefield.
Garp looked at the grinning giant monk before him. "You're a strange one."
The pressure emanating from the other man was undoubtedly at the Six Paths level.
Yet he felt different from ordinary Six Paths experts.
The smile on Monk of the Eye's face did not fade as he looked at Garp.
"When you call someone strange, it's best not to say it to their face."
Garp picked his nose and replied without a shred of sincerity, "Then sorry about that."
The next moment, he appeared in front of Monk of the Eye, his fist turning black as it smashed down fiercely.
This punch contained immense Dark Power. Before the fist even arrived, its wind was already devouring everything.
"Dark Power really is troublesome."
Monk of the Eye raised his brush-blade and blocked Garp's punch.
"Blacken, Ichimonji."
Black ink emerged from the brush-blade, continuously resisting Garp's barrage of punches.
As fist and brush-blade collided, violent gales capable of tearing everything apart were contained by the arena.
"It was such a pity that I