Chapter 183 (Patreon)

After explaining the difference between being controlled by violence and incorporating that side of oneself into swordsmanship, Mihawk gave Saeko no time to dwell on his words.

Their belongings had already been packed. He placed everything inside the storage scroll, sealed the scroll within the tag around his wrist, and left the villa with Saeko.

They needed somewhere new to stay.

As they walked through the surrounding streets, Saeko’s blue eyes gradually narrowed.

Corpses and severed limbs covered the roads and pavements. Every body bore a perfectly smooth cut, leaving no question as to who had killed them.

Saeko swallowed.

She had known that Mihawk went out to hunt the zombies that morning, but she had not realised how many he had eliminated.

Entire streets had been cleared.

Only a few isolated zombies remained, most having wandered out of nearby houses or arrived from other districts after Mihawk left.

Saeko followed one step behind him without speaking.

The farther they walked, the more bodies they encountered. At first, the scale of the slaughter unsettled her. Eventually, the endless sight of severed corpses left her numb.

What surprised her most was how Mihawk had looked upon returning.

His hair, skin, and clothes had all been spotless.

He had crossed streets filled with thousands of zombies and cut them apart at close range without allowing a single drop of blood to touch him.

After they finally left the cleared district behind, Saeko increased her pace until she was walking beside him.

“Sensei, may I ask you something?”

Mihawk’s Observation Haki spread across the neighbourhood. His gaze moved over the surrounding buildings as he searched for an empty house.

“Go ahead.”

Saeko hesitated briefly before asking, “What is your name?”

Mihawk paused.

He had accepted her as his student and revealed that he came from another world, yet he had never properly introduced himself.

“Nerona Mihawk.”

“Mihawk...”

Saeko quietly repeated the unfamiliar name.

“Is that a foreign name?”

“Something like that.”

Saeko studied his profile. His long silver hair, unusual clothing, and features had already made it clear that he was not Japanese.

“Where is your home?”

A faint smile appeared at the corner of Mihawk’s mouth.

He turned toward her.

“In a world of shinobi.”

Saeko stopped walking.

“A world of... shinobi?”

The answer sounded absurd, yet everything she had witnessed since meeting him made it impossible to dismiss.

Her blue eyes widened as a possibility occurred to her.

“Sensei, do you mean that you—”

“Yes. I came here from another world.”

Mihawk saw no reason to hide the truth.

“The abilities you’ve seen me use belong to that world.”

Saeko fell silent.

The answer was difficult to believe, but it also explained everything.

The sealing tags, storage scroll, impossible speed, and the slash that had divided an entire school building—none of them belonged in the world she knew.

She had initially assumed that Mihawk came from some hidden supernatural society. The truth was far greater than anything she had imagined.

“Does that surprise you?” Mihawk asked.

“Very much,” Saeko admitted. “But after everything I’ve seen, it also makes sense.”

She walked beside him in silence for several more steps.

Then another thought struck her.

“Will you return there?”

“Yes.”

Mihawk’s answer came without hesitation.

“I’ll be leaving this world in two days.”

Saeko’s expression changed.

Two days.

She had known Mihawk for less than forty-eight hours, yet those words caused a tight feeling to form in her chest.

Mihawk glanced at her.

“Before I leave, you’ll need to give me an answer.”

Saeko understood what he meant.

If she chose to follow him, she would leave this world behind and enter one where the sword could reach heights she had never imagined.

But she would also be abandoning everything connected to her former life.

Her world, her home, and her father—who might still be alive somewhere.

If she stayed, Mihawk would return to the ninja world alone.

The bond between them had only existed for a day. Once he left, they would most likely never see each other again.

Saeko lowered her gaze.

Mihawk did not demand an immediate decision.

He continued walking until his Observation Haki located an empty house nearby.

Without warning, he placed one arm around Saeko’s waist.

Her body stiffened.

Mihawk leapt from the street, crossed the outer wall, and landed lightly upon the roof with her.

Swish!

A flash from Nemesis cut through the locked rooftop entrance.

The door struck the floor below with a dull crash.

After entering the house, Mihawk removed the storage scroll from the seal around his wrist and handed it to Saeko.

“I may not return until tomorrow,” he said. “Use that time to think carefully.”

Saeko accepted the scroll with both hands.

Mihawk was offering her a simple choice.

She could follow him into a world of shinobi and pursue the swordsmanship she had glimpsed.

Or she could remain in this world and search for the people she might still have left.

Neither decision could be taken back.

Mihawk had no intention of influencing her answer. Saeko needed to decide which mattered more to her.

“I understand,” she said quietly.

Mihawk nodded and turned toward the opening in the roof.

“Sensei.”

Saeko held the scroll against her chest.

“Please come back safely.”

Mihawk glanced over his shoulder.

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

He stepped through the opening and disappeared.

A moment later, his figure landed upon the street below.

Mihawk’s Observation Haki spread across the district, locating every zombie within its range.

He chose the nearest group and vanished.

Swish!

A silver-white gleam passed through the street.

Several zombies collapsed before they noticed his arrival.

The second hunt had begun.

This time, Mihawk had a clearer understanding of what he was searching for.

During the previous two hunts, he had sensed a faint similarity whenever his blade crossed a line of death.

It was not the resistance of flesh or bone. Nor was it the simple act of killing.

For a fraction of a second, the target’s entire existence seemed to become vulnerable to his sword.

Mihawk wanted to capture that moment.

If he could understand it without relying solely upon his Mystic Eyes, he could begin developing a sword style based upon the same principle.

That required repetition.

One cut would not be enough.

Neither would a hundred or a thousand.

As long as Mihawk could still move and maintain his concentration, he had no intention of stopping.

He crossed the city at extraordinary speed.

Sometimes he used Shave to race along the streets. At other times, he used the Body Flicker Technique or ran across walls and rooftops to take the shortest route toward his next target.

His figure became a silver-haired afterimage appearing throughout the city.

The zombies could never follow his movements.

Before they saw him, his sword had already crossed their lines of death.

One.

Ten.

A hundred.

A thousand.

Mihawk eventually stopped counting.

Zombies continued falling wherever he passed.

Observation Haki allowed him to detect them inside houses, shops, offices, and abandoned vehicles. It functioned like a map in his mind, guiding him from one group to the next.

He did not attack indiscriminately.

Living survivors remained scattered throughout the city, hiding behind locked doors and covered windows. Mihawk avoided them and directed his blade only toward the dead.

A few survivors happened to glimpse him through windows.

They saw a young man moving through hordes of zombies without slowing down. Every sweep of his sword left bodies falling behind him, yet neither blood nor claws ever reached him.

Before any of them could call out, Mihawk was already gone.

To those people, the brief sight hardly seemed real.

Morning became noon.

Noon faded into dusk, and dusk gave way to night.

The night passed into early morning, and the sun rose over the city once again.

Nerona Mihawk landed on the roof of a nearby house.

He entered through the damaged rooftop door and made his way to the living room on the second floor.

“Sensei!”

Saeko Busujima, who had been waiting in the living room, immediately rose to greet him.

Seeing how pale she was, Mihawk asked calmly, “Are you all right?”

“I... I’m fine...”

Saeko struggled to catch her breath, her voice trembling. She had been training without rest and barely had enough strength left to stand. The fact that she had still forced herself to greet him was a testament to her willpower.

Mihawk did not dwell on it and went straight to the point.

“What have you decided?”

“I...”

A trace of hesitation crossed Saeko’s face, but it disappeared almost immediately. Her expression became resolute as she answered, “I choose to go with you, Sensei.”

Hearing her answer, a faint smile appeared on Mihawk’s otherwise expressionless face.

“I understand your resolve. Prepare yourself. I’ll take you out of this world shortly.”