Chapter 182 (Patreon)

In the living room on the villa’s second floor, Saeko sat stiffly upon the sofa.

Their belongings had already been packed and arranged beside the table, yet Mihawk had shown no sign of leaving.

Nearly two hours had passed since he entered one of the rooms and closed the door behind him.

Saeko’s blue eyes repeatedly drifted toward it.

The distant look Mihawk had worn upon returning that morning remained in her thoughts. He had appeared calm, but his attention had clearly been fixed upon something else.

Saeko’s normally composed expression was filled with an anxiety she rarely allowed anyone to see.

Even after the merciless training she had endured the previous night, she held no resentment toward Mihawk.

If anything, she blamed herself.

Mihawk had maintained his sword-meditation posture throughout the entire night without moving once. Saeko, meanwhile, had lost her posture so many times that she could no longer remember the exact number.

She must have disappointed him.

When Mihawk left the villa after breakfast without taking her, Saeko had briefly wondered whether he had changed his mind about accepting her as his student.

The storage scroll and supplies he left behind reassured her that he intended to return, but the fear did not disappear completely until she saw him again.

They had known each other for less than a day, yet Saeko already felt strangely dependent upon him.

It was not simply because Mihawk possessed enough power to protect her in this ruined world.

He had recognised the side of her that she had hidden from everyone else.

Even after seeing it, he had still offered to teach her.

For Saeko, that meant more than safety.

The door finally opened.

Saeko immediately rose from the sofa.

“Sensei.”

Mihawk stepped into the living room. His long silver hair was still slightly damp from the shower he had taken after finishing his meditation.

The past two hours had allowed him to organize what he had sensed while cutting through the zombies.

He had yet to fully comprehend it, but the faint idea that first appeared during the slaughter was gradually becoming clearer.

When Mihawk noticed the concern on Saeko’s face, a rare trace of apology entered his expression.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was rather abrupt when I returned.”

“No, it’s all right.”

Saeko hurriedly shook her head. She had clearly not expected Mihawk to apologise.

After a brief hesitation, she asked, “Did something happen while you were outside?”

Mihawk walked over to the sofa and sat down.

“Since I’ve accepted you as my student, there are certain things you should know.”

Saeko stood before him and waited attentively.

Mihawk picked up a bottle of mineral water from the table, removed the cap, and took a drink before continuing.

“I wasn’t outside simply to clear the streets. I’m developing a new style of swordsmanship.”

“A new style?”

“One centred upon death.”

Saeko’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Mihawk set the bottle down.

“My eyes allow me to perceive the death of living beings and objects. I can see where their existence is weakest and sever it with my blade.”

Saeko remembered how effortlessly his sword had passed through every zombie they encountered.

“Is that why nothing can withstand your attacks?”

“It’s one reason.”

Mihawk’s Mystic Eyes of Death Perception were extraordinarily powerful, but they were still an ability separate from the swordsmanship he had spent years developing.

He did not want to remain dependent upon what his eyes showed him.

He wanted to understand the principle behind those lines and incorporate it into his sword.

Just as he had once gathered everything he knew and created Return to One, he now intended to create another form of swordsmanship—one that embodied the certainty of death.

Once that style was complete, Mihawk would attempt to merge it with the rest of his swordsmanship.

If he succeeded, he would step into a realm that even Return to One had not allowed him to reach.

Saeko remained silent for several seconds as she processed his explanation.

“Can that kind of swordsmanship be taught?”

“Not in its entirety,” Mihawk answered. “You don’t possess these eyes, and you are nowhere near ready to understand what they perceive.”

Saeko lowered her gaze.

Before she could become discouraged, Mihawk continued.

“But you possess something else that can shape your sword.”

She looked up again.

Mihawk met her blue eyes directly.

“You understand what it feels like to be drawn toward violence.”

Saeko froze.

For the first time since Mihawk began speaking, her composure visibly faltered.

“What do you mean?”

“You already know.”

His voice contained no accusation or disgust.

That made it even more difficult for Saeko to look away.

Mihawk continued calmly, “Most people use a weapon because they need to defend themselves or defeat an enemy. You’re different. Part of you enjoys what happens when your weapon strikes someone.”

Memories Saeko had kept buried began returning.

The man who had once attacked her.

How she had noticed him before he made his move yet deliberately allowed him to approach.

How she had struck him with her bokken and continued even after he could no longer threaten her.

Most of all, she remembered the satisfaction she had felt.

Saeko’s hands slowly tightened at her sides.

“I see,” Mihawk said. “So I was right.”

She did not deny it.

“Does that make me a murderer?”

“No.”

Saeko looked at him in surprise.

“A violent impulse doesn’t decide what kind of person you are,” Mihawk said. “What matters is whether you control it or allow it to control you.”

He leaned back slightly against the sofa.

“There are people who surrender to those impulses and hurt anyone they please. They find excuses for themselves, blame the world, and eventually become nothing more than thugs and murderers.”

His gaze remained fixed upon her.

“You haven’t reached that point.”

Saeko had hidden her violent nature because she feared what others would think of her. She had tried to deny it, yet she had never truly freed herself from it.

Mihawk understood that struggle.

He had long since accepted that there were parts of his own personality that were far from normal.

During the battles surrounding the Konoha Crush, he discovered that killing could excite him. Later, while attending the memorial for those who had died, he realised that he could not feel the same sorrow as everyone around him.

That was when Mihawk stopped pretending those flaws did not exist.

He acknowledged them, understood them, and refused to let them decide how he lived.

“My sword isn’t guided by the desire to kill,” Mihawk said. “But I won’t lie to myself and pretend that desire has never existed.”

Saeko slowly raised her eyes.

Mihawk’s expression remained calm.

“Denying that part of yourself will not make it disappear. Indulging it will only turn you into its slave.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Face it. Control it. Decide for yourself when your sword should be drawn and who it should be used against.”

Saeko was silent.

Mihawk had not condemned her.

He had also not told her that enjoying violence was acceptable simply because the world had fallen apart.

Instead, he had placed the responsibility entirely upon her.

The darkness inside her was real.

What she became because of it would be her own decision.

“You noticed it when we met, didn’t you?” Saeko asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“And that’s why you accepted me?”

“It was one reason.”

Mihawk saw no reason to hide it.

“You didn’t look away from the violence around you. You were frightened, but part of you was also exhilarated. More importantly, when you realised that I had noticed, you still chose to stand before me.”

Saeko remembered kneeling in the blood-soaked school grounds and calling him Sensei.

“You allowed me to see something you had hidden from everyone else,” Mihawk continued. “That required courage.”

The tension in Saeko’s shoulders eased slightly.

“In a peaceful world, controlling that side of yourself would have remained difficult,” Mihawk said. “This world is no longer peaceful. There will be no shortage of enemies who deserve your blade.”

Zombies had overrun the streets. Human society was collapsing, and far worse people would inevitably appear once laws and consequences disappeared.

Saeko’s violent instincts could destroy her if left unchecked.

Under proper control, they could also help her survive and protect those she chose to stand beside.

“In the future, I’ll teach you how to keep those impulses under control,” Mihawk said. “You will accept that they exist without surrendering to them.”

Saeko’s expression gradually became firm.

“And then?”

“Then you’ll incorporate that part of yourself into your swordsmanship.”

Her eyes widened slightly.

“You cannot copy my path,” Mihawk said. “My new style is based upon what the Mystic Eyes show me. Your sword must be built around who you are.”

Mihawk had no intention of creating a weaker imitation of himself.

Saeko possessed her own instincts, temperament, and relationship with violence. If she mastered them, they could become the foundation of a sword style that belonged to her alone.

“When the time comes, I’ll help you complete it.”

Saeko stared at him.

She had expected disgust, rejection, or perhaps a warning never to reveal those feelings again.

Instead, Mihawk had acknowledged everything she feared about herself and offered to guide her through it.

“Yes.”

Her answer was quiet but unwavering.

“I understand, Sensei.”

Mihawk nodded in satisfaction.

For now, however, such matters remained far beyond Saeko’s reach.

She was still an ordinary human who had yet to perceive the Breath of All Things. Even after reaching that stage, she would only have taken her first true step as a swordsman.

The distance separating her from Mihawk could not yet be measured.

But Mihawk had accepted her as his student because he believed she possessed the talent to begin crossing it.

“Good,” he said. “Then remember this: never be ashamed of recognising what exists inside you.”

His eyes sharpened.

“But never use that as an excuse to lose control.”

Saeko nodded firmly.

“I won’t.”

“Get your things. It’s time to leave.”

“Yes, Sensei.”

Saeko turned toward the supplies she had prepared earlier.

As she picked them up, the anxiety that had troubled her throughout the morning was gone.

For the first time, the part of herself she had always feared no longer felt like something she needed to hide.

It was something she needed to master.

Author’s Note: ONE more chapter until the end of this arc.