Simultaneous Transmigration: Why is it all One Piece world?

That punch just now was already his full strength.

All that was gained was a small hole that was healing.

"However..." Baccaro cracked his neck, his bones popping, "Is that all you've got? You dare come back?"

He strode forward, his tiger claws outstretched, the tips gleaming coldly in the dim light.

"Just a defeated opponent."

Nock did not back down.

His gaze passed over Baccarat and landed on the figure behind him, the impersonator, who was smiling and still clutching the fine sword "Flower Branch" that originally belonged to Brigadier General Doron.

That knife is perfect for using the swordsmanship that swordsman Nock shared with him!

Nock moved.

Instead of rushing towards Baccarat, they rushed towards what was behind him.

"Trying to run?" Baccarat grinned maliciously, his tiger claws sweeping across.

Nock slides.

The paper-drawing technique activated, its body seemingly boneless as it slid under the claws, and then kicked the imitation human in the chest.

"Ah—!" The imitator screamed and fell to the ground, the knife flying out of his hand.

Nock reached out and gripped the hilt of the knife.

The moment he got his hands on it, his eyes changed.

Swordsman Nock's twenty-four years of honing his skills day and night, and the instinct etched into his bones by millions of slashes, awakened at this moment.

The sword wasn't his, but he seemed to have been "holding a knife" for twenty-four years.

Nock slowly raised "Flower Branch," the blade reflecting his eyes.

He casually tossed away the jewel-encrusted scabbard.

Grip the knife handle firmly.

Turn around.

Baccarat had already pounced on him, his tiger claws tearing through the air, creating a whistling sound—

Nock did not back down.

He slightly turned his body, and a flash of light appeared on his blade.

cut!

It wasn't a particularly profound sword technique, just the most basic drawing of a sword, but in the hands of swordsman Nok, this move had been practiced for twenty years and swung a million times.

fast.

quasi.

ruthless!

The blade sliced ​​through Baccarat's arm, cutting through the skin, the muscle, and the tendons—

Blood spurted out!

"Roar—!" Baccarat screamed, his tiger claws retracting instinctively. He looked down at his right arm, where a deep, bone-revealing wound stretched from his wrist to his elbow, the muscles twisted and blood gushing out.

"you......!"

He couldn't believe it.

Just ten minutes ago, he was completely dominating an ordinary navy officer, but now he's managed to injure him, and in such a serious way!

Nock gave him no chance to catch his breath.

He stepped forward, the tip of the knife aimed straight at his throat.

Baccarat retreated in a disheveled manner, wildly waving his tiger claws in an attempt to force him back. But Nok's knife seemed to have eyes, always managing to slip through the gaps in his claws, leaving wound after wound on his body.

Shoulders, chest, waist, thighs.

One cut at a time,

Every strike draws blood!

Swordsman Nock's twenty-four years of swordsmanship were fully displayed at this moment.

It's not power.

It's a skill, a technique for cutting steel!

It's an instinct etched into your bones by countless knife strokes!

It's a swordsmanship technique that has already grasped a trace of Armament Haki!

Bakaro roared repeatedly, his wounds multiplying. His Zoan-type Devil Fruit powers were desperately trying to repair him, but the speed of repair could not keep up with the speed of injury.

"You fucking...!"

He roared, his tiger claws flailing wildly, completely abandoning his defense, his beastly eyes filled with madness and bewilderment.

He doesn't understand!

Why? Why has this navy, which I just crushed, suddenly become so difficult to deal with?

Nock did not answer.

He simply brandished his knife.

One cut, two cuts, three cuts.

Every slash left a wound on Baccarat's body, and every slash drained his stamina and his ability to recover.

finally--

puff!

The knife tip pierced Baccaro's right shoulder, through his scapula, and emerged from behind.

Baccarat let out a heart-wrenching scream, raising his tiger claws high and using his last bit of strength to strike Nock's head.

Noc drew his sword and retreated.

The tiger's claws grazed the tip of his nose, the force of the wind making his cheek sting.

Baccarat staggered backward, leaning against the wall, panting heavily. He had at least twenty wounds on his body, and blood was everywhere. He looked like he had been pulled out of a sea of ​​blood.

"You... what exactly are you..." he gasped, the brutality in his beastly eyes finally replaced by fear.

Nock did not answer.

He gripped the knife and approached step by step.

The knife tip dipped towards the ground, and a drop of blood slid down the blade, blooming into a small blood flower on the cabin floor.

Behind them, a girl's wide-eyed gasp came from behind.

In the corner, Gasparu stared wide-eyed at the scene, his lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.

Nock walked up to Baccarat and raised his knife.

Baccarat's pupils suddenly contracted—

"Wait!" he screamed hoarsely. "Don't kill me! Let me go! I know a treasure map, if only you..."

A flash of light.

Baccarat's head flew high into the air, spun twice, and landed heavily in front of Gasparu.

Those beastly eyes were still open, filled with resentment.

Nock sheathed his sword and looked at the mother and daughter.

The woman, holding her child, looked up at him with gratitude.

"Child, what's your name?"

Nock paused for a moment.

He looked down at the knife in his hand, then at Baccarat's corpse on the ground, and finally at his own body covered in wounds.

He twitched his lips, revealing a somewhat weary smile.

"Lieutenant Commander Knok," he said, "I'm glad you're alright."

As soon as he finished speaking, he swayed and almost fell over.

My strength finally gave out.

The woman quickly got up and helped him lean against her.

"I'm fine," he said, panting. "Just... a little tired."

The child peeked out from the woman's arms, looking at him with teary eyes.

"Brother..." the little one sobbed, "You're bleeding..."

Nock looked down at the wound on his shoulder and smiled.

"Minor injury."

The battle is over.

He closed his eyes, the trajectory of the knife flashing through his mind.

Swordsman Nok's swordsmanship is fucking amazing!

...

Pang Gezhong crawled up from the corner of the wall, his face covered in blood.

"Kid..." He looked at Nok, his voice hoarse but filled with undisguised amazement, "Truly, a hero emerges from among the young."

Nock leaned against Madam Saori, and upon hearing this, he twitched the corner of his mouth, wanting to laugh, but the movement aggravated his wound, causing him to wince in pain.

"You flatter me, Lieutenant General," he said, panting. "I almost gave up."

"Almost?" Pang staggered over and plopped down on the wooden crate next to him. "Indeed, but we only care about the result."

Nock responded with a smile.

"Thank goodness you were here. Otherwise, I really wouldn't be able to explain myself today."

After the lieutenant general finished speaking, he propped himself up and began to report the situation to headquarters.

Lady Saori knelt up to make Nock more comfortable, took out a clean handkerchief from her bosom, and gently wiped the bloodstains from his forehead.

The movements were very gentle, as if afraid of hurting him.

"It must hurt a lot, child," she said softly. "You've lost a lot of blood."

Nock tried to say he could move, but he was indeed exhausted and could only stand there, letting the admiral's wife clean his wounds.