62
Mihawk's tone was as flat as if he were discussing the weather.
"When I have time, I'll head out to sea. Cutting down a few fleets along the way will meet the quota."
The conditions Fleet Admiral Kong had proposed truly meant little to him.
With no territory to manage and no subordinates to feed, a man alone was often the freest of all.
Finding a patch of wasteland to sow was enough to keep him fed. As for meat-the entire ocean was his larder.
As long as he met the Navy's quota, no one could restrain him.
Besides, this swordsman shared a certain understanding with the Five Elders.
Strength itself was status. So long as he stopped chasing the Navy's master swordsmen for duels, they naturally would not provoke him either.
"In that case-"
Rossi turned his head toward the half-giant who was about to leave.
"Mr. Taran."
"We're planning to spar. Would you care to join us?"
The half-giant stopped.
"Sure."
He nodded almost without hesitation.
After all these years living in human society, he was no longer a brute who knew only how to swing an axe.
But when someone challenged him, the honor-loving blood of giants still boiled within him.
"Hawk-Eyes... Mihawk, you don't mind one more, do you?"
"Suit yourself."
Although Taran was not a swordsman, Mihawk was not picky.
He pursued the pinnacle of swordsmanship, but never demanded that his opponents wield swords.
Whatever weapon he faced, the Black Blade in his hand would never hesitate.
"Hee hee hee... Those three have grouped up?"
The ball-shaped Moria tilted his head, glancing sideways at Crocodile beside him.
"What about you? Doesn't feel good being left out, does it?"
"Hmph."
Cigar smoke blew from his nostrils by way of an answer.
Crocodile turned and