Devil Fruit User Appears

It was a little past 6 PM.

The final stage was ready. In the vast competition dojo, spectators were gradually filling the seats on all four sides.

Soon, it was packed to capacity.

A rough count showed at least two thousand people.

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In the front row on the south side, seven luxurious seats were arranged in a line. Those seated appeared to be around fifty or sixty years old, wearing kendo uniforms. They carried themselves with ease and exuded a powerful aura.

"Are those the masters of the Seven Great Dojos?"

Xianuo lifted the changing room curtain and glanced over. "Do you recognize them? Has there been a change in personnel compared to five years ago?"

Junyi shook his head.

"No, it's still them, not a single one has changed. The one with gray hair in the middle, and the two next to him, were all close friends of my father back in the day. They had a life-or-death friendship when they were young."

"To be precise, only the two on the far right had some conflict. As for the others, I remember they all had a good relationship with my father."

"So, besides the two whose relationships were bad, which isn't surprising, the betrayal by the others seems even stranger, right?"

Xianuo pinched his chin. "It's indeed bizarre. It's making me a little scared."

Human hearts are fickle, but they can't do a 540-degree Thomas spin in one second.

On this vast sea, only one power can achieve that.

--The power of demons.

It's just... what kind of Devil Fruit could achieve this level?

"Look over there."

Junyi suddenly whispered.

Xianuo followed his gaze.

Over there was the opponent's changing room. The edge of the curtain had been lifted at some point, revealing half of a fox mask staring this way without moving.

To be precise, it was staring intently at Junyi.

"I have a feeling this person really cares about you."

Xianuo glanced at his subordinate. "When you fought him this afternoon, did you sense any familiar aura from him?"

"I wanted to, but as soon as we bowed, I was sent flying, so..."

"Next time, remember to fly slower. Maybe you'll be able to smell it."

"...You really, really hurt my feelings."

Time quickly reached exactly 7 PM.

"Welcome, everyone, to the Asagiri Island Kendo Competition Dojo! Welcome to the finals of this year's Kendo Tournament!"

Under the spotlight, the host stepped onto the central stage of the dojo and began the warm-up segment.

When he finally introduced the two dark horses, especially mentioning that Xianuo came from the Sakuraba Dojo.

Many areas of the audience erupted in a flurry of whispers.

Clearly.

Even after five years, and despite the Seven Great Dojos' efforts to erase all traces, many people still remembered the former glory of the Sakuraba Dojo.

Especially the previous master, Sakuraba Tree.

As Asagiri Island's most renowned swordsman and the founder of the Kendo Tournament, he had been an idol worshipped by many local residents for over a decade.

Listening to the chaotic and noisy discussions, Junyi's expression was complex.

"It's your turn to go on stage, boss."

He glanced at the wall clock and reminded him in a low voice. He fumbled in his right pocket for a moment, then pulled out a light pink candy and put it into Xianuo's hand.

"What is this?"

"Sakura candy. When I was a child, I used to get so nervous before big events with my father that my hands and feet would tremble. My father would buy me this candy. Chewing it in my mouth made me feel much better."

"Two thousand people, is that considered a big event?"

"Eh?! This isn't considered one?"

"Tsk, country bumpkins really have no experience."

Xianuo tore open the candy wrapper and put the sakura candy into his mouth.

"There's a filling too! I like it." As he chewed, he grabbed his bamboo sword. Before stepping out of the changing room, he glanced back at Junyi and smiled, "Aren't you going to offer some encouragement? Say something like 'good luck'?"

"No need, I believe in you." Junyi said very seriously.

"Okay."

Xianuo was slightly taken aback, then grinned. "Coincidentally, I never do anything that disappoints people."

Shua!

The curtain was pulled back, and the spotlight suddenly hit.

Amidst the thunderous cheers of thousands of spectators, Xianuo's expression was calm as he strode onto the central stage.

"Please."

Xianuo bowed slightly as a gesture of courtesy, striking a standard starting pose.

He had practiced swordsmanship for over a year, after all. While he hadn't grasped the flashy techniques, he knew these superficial moves.

However.

He waited for a long while, but didn't see White Fox return the bow.

The other party stood there like a statue, motionless and unresponsive.

What was this guy up to?

Just as he knitted his brows.

He suddenly heard the other party's low voice.

"Junyi... has he been doing well all these years?"

Xianuo's heart jolted. He abruptly looked up, gazing at the eyes hidden behind the mask.

This was the first time they were this close.

Under the ample light of the spotlight, he could finally see clearly: the man's pupils were a deep purple.

Deep purple was rare, but not unheard of.

But coincidentally...

Junyi's pupils were also deep purple.

"Who exactly are you to Junyi?"

Xianuo narrowed his eyes. "Why ask me? Hiding your identity, if you really want to know, why not go find him yourself and ask him directly?"

"..."

White Fox did not answer.

Instead, he raised his head and coldly looked at the Den Den Mushi filming and broadcasting on the wall.

"Hey, what's going on? Why have both of them stopped?"

"What's he staring at the camera for?"

"What the hell! Are they going to fight or not!"

There was no movement on the stage for a long time, and the unrest caused by dissatisfaction and complaints in the audience seats grew louder.

Behind the large office desk.

The middle-aged man, who was enjoying the service of beautiful women with one on each arm, suddenly changed his expression upon seeing this.

"You damn bastard!"

He roughly pushed the women away and stood up, placing his palms flat on the desk, staring intently at the screen.

"Is he crazy... At such a crucial moment, what is he trying to do! What is he up to!"

The tall, thin figure on the screen remained motionless, quietly staring at the camera.

A very bad premonition gradually arose in the middle-aged man's heart.

"Oh dear, Mr. Carpenter, what's wrong? Don't get so agitated. Getting angry isn't good for your health. Come, let me pour you another drink."

The blonde beauty on his right affectionately picked up two glasses of sherry.

"Get out! All of you, get out!"

Bang! He swept his arm, smashing the wine glasses to the floor. His roar startled the women, who retreated in fear and huddled in the corner of the sofa.

A knock sounded at the door, and a bodyguard cautiously opened it a crack.

"Mr. Carpenter, what's wrong?"

"Prepare the carriage... No! Have the driver bring my motorcycle downstairs! I need to get to the competition venue at the fastest possible speed!"

"Carpenter" quickly threw on a trench coat, put on his hat, and, surrounded by several bodyguards, pushed open the door and strode purposefully towards the stairs.

A moment later.

The engine rumbled, and a modified jet motorcycle sped away, crushing the fallen cherry blossoms on the entire street.

The scenery and buildings on both sides blurred past. "Carpenter" tightly gripped the gilded handlebars, his face as dark as water beneath his black wide-brimmed hat.