For the time that followed, Dracule Mihawk threw himself wholeheartedly into the endeavor of fishing with a straight hook.
He endured the hunger while focusing his mind on trying to comprehend the voices of all things. Unfortunately, even after seven days, he had gained very little.
Yet he did not lose heart. He continued to devote all his energy each day to this seemingly absurd task.
Had he not seen Shin catch a fish with this rod himself, he might have doubted and questioned it too. But since he had witnessed it with his own eyes, he did not hesitate in the slightest.
A swordsman was someone with the resolve to never give up until his goal was achieved.
Moreover, as time passed, Dracule Mihawk always felt as though something about him had changed, though he could not say exactly what. The only thing he could be sure of was that the fish swimming past still cast disdainful looks at him. Though he knew these were not the same fish as before.
"'A heart like drifting clouds, ever at ease; a mind like flowing water, free to go east or west'? What kind of realization is that?"
That night, Dracule Mihawk tossed and turned after closing his eyes, unable to sleep. Having gone more than a week without food, drinking only the fresh water Shin took from his storage space, the hunger gnawed at him like an inescapable demon.
But just as Shin had said, the verdant leaf supplied him with a constant stream of vitality every day. Aside from hunger, he suffered no other discomfort, and even his physical strength had barely declined.
Still, this could not go on forever. Dracule Mihawk's ultimate purpose was to learn swordsmanship, yet after drifting at sea for so long, he had gained