Roger set the barrel down by his feet and turned to face Bullet. He lowered his head, studying the boy who did not even reach his shoulders.
"What's your name?"
"Bullet, executive officer of the Heavenly Army!"
Roger slipped his hands into his coat pockets, tilted his head, and curled his lips into a smile.
"Bullet, you're with the Heavenly Army, so you know your Divine Lord's name, right? Fight me, and if you lose, tell me his name. Then do me one more favor... introduce me to him."
From beginning to end, Roger never mentioned what would happen if he lost. As far as he was concerned, there was no chance of that.
Bullet lifted his short spear off the ground and aimed its point at Roger's chest.
Armament Haki poured from his palm into the shaft, spreading along the forged grain of the iron cloud to the tip. His battle-hungry eyes shone unnaturally bright in the midday sun, his pupils dilating with excitement.
"Deal!"
Roger pulled his right hand out of his coat pocket, clenched his fingers into a fist, relaxed them, then clenched them again. Only after loosening up his arm did he beckon to Bullet.
"You make the first move."
Bullet frowned slightly, then shot forward at tremendous speed, thrusting his short spear diagonally upward from the lower right. Its tip tore through the air.
The thrust targeted Roger's left shoulder. It was so fast that before the crouching Buggy could even blink, the tip was less than a fist's width from Roger's shoulder.
Roger shifted sideways. The movement was so slight that, from a distance, he barely seemed to have moved at all. Only Bullet, standing directly in front of him, could feel it.
At the last instant before the tip touched Roger's clothes, the