Sabaody Archipelago, the Rip-off Bar.
The wooden door swung open, and a red-haired man walked in. He immediately spotted the familiar figure at the counter, gray-haired and wearing glasses, leisurely sipping his drink.
Shanks looked up with a hearty smile and greeted him. "Mr. Rayleigh! I knew you'd be here."
Hearing someone call his name, Rayleigh turned around. A flicker of surprise crossed his face when he recognized Shanks.
"Shanks? It's you, brat. What, heading back to the New World?" As he spoke, Rayleigh habitually looked Shanks up and down.
When his gaze landed on that empty left sleeve, his brows drew into a tight frown.
With Shanks's current strength and swordsmanship, anyone capable of costing him an arm was no ordinary opponent.
Almost instinctively, Rayleigh thought of one possibility. He asked gravely, "Your arm... what happened? Did Hawk-Eye cut it off?"
He had heard a thing or two about how the World's Greatest Swordsman had chased Shanks around the New World two years ago, leaving him in quite a sorry state. It could even be called a strategic retreat.
At Rayleigh's question, Shanks instinctively covered the stump with his right hand. A somewhat complicated smile crossed his face as he shook his head. "It wasn't Mihawk."
He was just about to explain when Shakky, cigarette dangling from her lips behind the counter, deftly began rummaging through the intelligence drawers beneath it, muttering as she searched.
"Someone strong enough to make that brat Shanks lose an arm... has anyone like that turned up in the New World lately?
"I haven't heard about him fighting any of the Four Emperors or an Admiral to the death recently! Looks like the Intelligence Network still needs improving..."
Seeing Rayleigh and Shakky's reaction, Shanks was momentarily dumbfounded. A few beads of cold sweat appeared