One Piece: The user of the Nen-Nen Fruit, who overturned the sea.

"Mr. Long, who is this?"

Koushirou's voice remained gentle, but the volume was subtly lowered.

The deliberately restrained tone concealed a wariness that only a master could detect.

Before Ryu could introduce him, Roy stepped forward. Asakura Shiro casually waved his hand, his tone light and cheerful:

"Hello, hello, I'm a friend of the dragon, just call me Roy."

Koushirou's lips twitched almost imperceptibly.

Roy.

This name is familiar to anyone who has ever been to the New World on this vast ocean.

The Heavenly Emperor, the master of Beehive Island, who stole the Heavenly Gold, toyed with a Marine Admiral, and is a transcendent being who stands alongside Kaido the Whitebeard as one of the Emperors of the Sea.

This big shot, who could make the world tremble with a stomp of his foot in the new world, now stands in front of Koushirou and introduces himself with a lighthearted expression: "Just call me Roy."

Koushirou took a deep breath, suppressing the thousand words swirling in his heart, bowed slightly to Roy, and spoke calmly.

"I have long admired your name."

"What brings you to my humble abode?"

"Nothing much."

Roy walked into the dojo courtyard with a smile, his gaze sweeping over the surrounding sword-training facilities.

"I stopped by the East Sea for a stroll, and since the Dragon was coming to Frostmoon Village, I came along to take a look."

The dojo has a good foundation, but the way they practice swordsmanship is...

He pointed to the boys in the yard repeatedly practicing basic chopping motions in front of the wooden stakes, his tone as casual as if he were commenting on the doneness of a dish.

"Too mild."

Koushirou's eyebrows twitched again.

"Roy."

Ryu quickly stepped in to smooth things over, patting Koushirou on the shoulder and giving him an apologetic look.

He was telling the truth.

The training this guy does on Beehive Island is so intense that just the warm-up alone could exhaust half the kids in your dojo.

Koushirou chuckled twice, but his heart was still pounding.

He certainly knew Roy's strength—during the great war in Wano Country, families from Wano Country all had their own intelligence channels to varying degrees.

The reason the Shimotsuki clan left Wano Country was ultimately because of the turmoil in the New World, which led them to choose to settle in the East Blue.

Even after so many years, for people of Shimotsuki Kozaburo's generation, the name Kaido remains an unhealable scar.

Roy, Kaido's ally and a Sea Emperor who had also cooperated with Kaido, suddenly appeared here, which would make anyone think a lot.

"Please come in and have a seat."

Koushirou stepped aside to let Ryu and Roy into the dojo's reception room.

The reception room was small and simply furnished—a low table, a few cushions, and a calligraphy scroll with the words "一心" (one heart) hanging on the wall, its sharp strokes a stark contrast to Koushirou's gentle demeanor.

Roy plopped down on the futon, picked up the tea that Koushirou had personally brewed, took a sip, and looked quite pleased with himself.

"Good tea."

He gave a compliment, then added insult to injury.

"It's much better than the soup made by the cooks on my ship."

"That Tezzolo guy always adds sugar to his tea; it's such a waste!"

Koushirou paused for half a second while holding the teapot, then casually poured Ryu a cup of tea.

He told himself that this important person just spoke like that, and not to take it to heart.

The dragon saw this and shook its head with a smile.

He could understand Koushirou's nervousness.

Anyone would react this way if they found a big shot suddenly showing up at their door.

Koushirou's restraint in not immediately drawing his sword to drive the man away was already quite remarkable.

Just as the three were chatting casually, a crisp reprimand suddenly came from the direction of the dojo's backyard, followed by a young boy's defiant roar—

"Kuina! I haven't lost yet! Let's go again!"

Then came a horizontal sweep of a wooden sword, the dull thud of something hitting the ground, and the rising and falling laughter of a group of teenagers.

Roy raised an eyebrow.

His Observation Haki instantly spread out, clearly presenting the scene in the backyard to his senses.

A young girl stood on the stone slab of the courtyard, holding a wooden knife in her hand, the tip of the knife still in the finishing position after a sweeping motion.

The girl's height was average for her age, and the sleeves of her kendo uniform were rolled up to her elbows, revealing two slender but powerful arms.

On the stone slab in front of her, a boy with green algae-like hair was lying sprawled out, his wooden sword flying far away and stuck in the mud not far away, the hilt still trembling slightly.

"The two thousand and first time."

The pink-haired girl sheathed her wooden sword, her tone as calm as if she were counting how many rice balls she had eaten that day.

"Zoro, your basic stance still has the same problem—you push off with your left leg too early and retract your right arm too slowly. Didn't I tell you this eight hundred years ago?"

The green-haired boy leaped to his feet, his face full of defiance, rubbing his sore back as he roared:

"Who said that! I clearly changed it!"

"Changed?"

Kuina tilted her head and pointed with her wooden sword at the boy's left foot.

"Then when you made that cut just now, your left foot stepped forward three centimeters too far."

The green algae-headed girl looked down at her feet, then at Kuina, and opened her mouth to refute, but found that she couldn't find any point to refute.

After struggling for a while, he finally blurted out, "You're not my teacher!"

"I don't want to be your teacher either."

Kuina turned around and assumed a fighting stance again.

"Again."

Outside the backyard wall, the other teenagers who were perched on the wall watching were laughing so hard they were bent over.

Zoro fought Kuina more than two thousand times in this dojo, losing more than two thousand times. Every time he was beaten, he would be stubborn and then get beaten again next time.

In the reception room, Roy put down his teacup, his smile already impossible to hide.

He stood up from the prayer mat, dusted off non-existent dust from his robes, and turned to look at Koushirou with an expression that was utterly innocent:

"Master Koushirou, would you mind if I went to watch the children practice swordsmanship?"

Koushirou's hand holding the teacup tightened suddenly, the rim of the cup remaining motionless at his fingertips for two seconds.

Looking at Roy's smiling face, a voice inside him screamed wildly—I mind, of course I mind, I mind to death.

But the words that came out of his mouth turned into something else:

"...Please feel free to do as you please."

Roy smiled and waved his hand, then walked towards the backyard of the dojo.

Long watched Roy's figure disappear at the end of the porch, then looked at Koushirou's face, which was about to lose its smile, and silently took a sip of tea.

Forget it.

Anyway, Roy may act recklessly, but he still has his bottom line.

They probably wouldn't lay a hand on the children.

In the backyard, Zoro had just gotten up from the ground, picked up his wooden sword again, and assumed a fairly standard starting stance.

His gaze was more determined than before, and his arms were trembling slightly—not from fear, but from the resentment accumulated from thousands of failures.

But before this resentment could erupt, it was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice:

"Kid, your starting pose is hilarious."

Zoro turned his head sharply and saw a man he had never seen before leaning against the door frame of the dojo’s backyard, looking extremely lazy.

With his hands in his pockets and a faint smile playing on his lips, he stood there.

His expression was as if he were watching a rather interesting circus.

"Who are you?!"