With that insight, he would no longer be at a disadvantage in a head-on clash.
Rossi felt that burning gaze.
He drew the long sword at his waist with a backhand grip. Sandai Kitetsu's edge gleamed dark red in the sunlight. "Let's try-"
"Mr. Doflamingo, Mr. Rossi."
A man in uniform hurried up the gangway, interrupting him.
He was no ordinary soldier-the crest on his armband identified him as a Column Commander.
"Four billion Beli. Please check the amount."
Doflamingo took the documents and waved a hand, signaling that he could leave.
The uniformed man showed not the slightest displeasure. Instead, he gave a solemn military salute, and as he turned, there was even a barely perceptible curve to his lips.
That money would be enough to build three new-model warships.
The thought flashed through his mind, but then he shook his head at his own greed.
The Vinsmoke Family's warriors had always been known for absolute obedience. Any unnecessary thought sullied that loyalty.
The wind across the deck carried a salty tang.
A pink coat and a black trench coat suddenly crossed by the railing, then separated in an instant, like two repelling magnetic poles.
Several hours later, the bow cleaved a white rift through the sea.
Trebol leaned against the mast, watching the two young men on deck, and could not help muttering in his sticky voice, "Are they dancing?"
It certainly did not look like a fight.
There was no sharp clang of metal, no dull thud of fists or feet striking flesh, only the rustle of clothes cutting through the air and the light tap of footsteps on planks.
Both kept changing course the instant they attacked, adjusting their stances as they dodged, like two fish testing each other yet refusing to touch.
Rossi stopped and