The instant he broke through his opponent's arm defense, his fists drove straight in, hammering Katakuri's torso in succession and leaving several holes.
Yet Katakuri's eyes remained calm, as though those wounds did not exist.
He was practically like a Logia user.
His body riddled with holes, Katakuri paid no mind to his missed attack. His outstretched arms suddenly snapped back, his fingers hooking firmly around Rossi's shoulders.
"Tch."
A soft scoff came from beneath the hood.
Surging Armament Haki erupted from within Rossi, swelling even his white assassin's outfit.
But an instant before that power burst outward, Katakuri stepped half a pace back as though forewarned, perfectly avoiding the center of the eruption.
The trident in his hand, named "Mogura,"
thrust forward with the motion, its point aimed straight at Rossi's throat.
A piercing whistle split the air.
The white figure skimmed backward along the ground.
Rossi reached out with both hands, reclaiming the twin golden swords he had discarded earlier.
His retreat stopped abruptly and became a forward charge as he met his opponent again.
Crisscrossing sword flashes wove an impenetrable web in the air, sweeping toward the towering figure with interlaced black-and-gold edges.
An ordinary pirate facing that web of black-and-gold blades would have been shredded in an instant.
But the trident called "Mogura"
slid forward along an indescribable trajectory-not fast, nor particularly tricky, yet it slipped through a gap in the sword flashes and stabbed straight toward the shadow beneath the hood.
Tch.
A short hiss escaped Rossi's teeth. Driven by anger, he actually opened his mouth to meet the cold trident point.
Armament Haki coated his teeth, and his jaws snapped shut with a metallic clang-
Only to bite into an afterimage.
Katakuri flicked his wrist, abruptly redirecting the trident from a thrust into an