On the deck of the ship, only two people were drinking—Mio and Warwick. Although the girls in the crew also drank occasionally, it was rare. As a result, Mio and Warwick were the only ones sharing a drink with Hawkeye. Of the three, only Mio was actively conversing with him.
"How do you know my swordsmanship is strong? Do you know who I am?" asked Hawkeye, holding a cup of rum in his hand. This man, destined to become one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea and later known as the world's strongest swordsman, now appeared young and full of vitality.
His sharp, eagle-like eyes radiated an intensity that made most people instinctively look away.
"A man who sails the Grand Line alone on a small boat while wielding one of the twelve Supreme Grade swords—surely he isn't someone ordinary, right?" Mio replied with a grin.
Hawkeye nodded, seemingly satisfied with the response, then shifted his gaze toward the sea. "Your crew members all seem like Devil Fruit users."
"More or less. The one in the sea definitely isn't, though," Mio said with a casual shrug.
Hearing this, Hawkeye raised an eyebrow in surprise. "That body… massive. Looks like a Fishman, but not quite. I've been to Fishman Island, and while some Fishmen are large, I've never seen one that large. He must be powerful too. We haven't fought, but I can feel it."
"It's not a Fishman," Mio explained, "but he carries a trace of Oz's blood."
"Ah, that makes sense," Hawkeye nodded in understanding.
Oz's name still held weight across the world. Known as an outlier among giants, his size dwarfed even the average giant. If Mio's crew member had inherited part of that bloodline, his overwhelming size made perfect sense.
"So, why are you in this sea? Isn't this the region where the Grand Line connects to the Four Seas? With your strength, the New World seems like a more fitting place for you," Mio asked curiously.
Hawkeye took a sip of his rum and replied calmly, "The New World does have strong swordsmen, but it's a chaotic place right now. Going there would be troublesome. It's not that I fear it, just that it's a waste of time. So I decided to explore the Four Seas instead. Most swordsmen here are weak, but occasionally, I stumble across someone with potential."
"Are you heading to the New World soon?" Mio asked.
"Yes," Hawkeye nodded. "Things are starting to settle there. The great pirates are beginning to fight for dominance. In time, a few will rise to claim the top spots—perhaps even become emperors of the sea."
Although not a pirate himself, Hawkeye's strength and insight made it easy for him to perceive the undercurrents in the New World.
Looking back at Mio's crew, Hawkeye chuckled. "The New World might be stabilizing, but it'll take another year or two for it to fully settle. You're a pirate, aren't you? Don't you plan to take part in the upcoming 'banquet'?"
Mio understood what he meant by 'banquet'—the inevitable clash that would shape the rise of the Four Emperors.
Still, Mio was self-aware. He knew his current strength wasn't enough.
Shrugging, he smirked. "I'd love to go, but now's not the time. I'm not strong enough to compete in the New World yet. There's no need to rush. The chaos you see now is mostly from the leftovers. The real heavy-hitters are still watching from the shadows."
Although he'd only recently arrived at the Grand Line from the North Blue, Mio had kept up with the situation in the New World.
The age of the Four Emperors had yet to arrive—but it was coming.
All the pirates currently in the New World were unknowingly setting the stage for that new era. In time, four dominant figures would rise and earn the world's recognition. When that time came, so too would the Seven Warlords.
But that moment hadn't arrived yet.
For now, only one man was undisputed in his claim to the title of Emperor—Whitebeard.
The others? Still unqualified. Though powerful, they continued to battle across the New World, fighting for dominance and building their foundations.
And it wasn't just Kaido and the like. Numerous other infamous pirates were competing for supremacy in that lawless sea. The resistance to any one pirate rising to power was still strong.
That's why Mio wasn't in a hurry.
He was certainly interested in the title of Emperor, but he knew he lacked the strength to pursue it now. Fortunately, he still had time to grow. There was no need to rush.
"You seem pretty confident," Hawkeye remarked.
He saw it in Mio's eyes—pure, unwavering confidence.
Mio simply grinned. "Isn't that normal?"
"I suppose it is."
"Where are you heading next?" Mio asked.
"Alabasta. Care to come along for a stroll?" Mio offered with a smirk.
Hawkeye shook his head. "I'll head straight to the New World. There are still a few swordsmen I haven't challenged yet."
"I believe you'll win those duels," Mio said with a smile, raising his glass and clinking it against Hawkeye's before downing his drink in one gulp.
The ship continued sailing toward Alabasta, with Hawkeye's small boat securely tied alongside, trailing behind as part of the journey.
On the way, they passed by several small, uninhabited islands.
By then, the drinks were finished, and the sun was still high in the sky. They happened to be near one such island.
Mio drew the Raikiri from his waist, his grin full of excitement. "Mind giving me a lesson?"
Though he knew his swordsmanship was still lacking, he wanted to gauge how far behind he was compared to the world's best.
"With pleasure," Hawkeye replied, calmly drawing the black blade slung across his back.
"But honestly," he added, glancing toward the ship, "I'd rather spar with another one of your crew first."
He was referring to Erica.
Mio sighed. "That kinda hurts, you know. I admit my swordsmanship's not on Erica's level, but saying it like that wounds my pride."
Hawkeye chuckled. He'd seen many pirate crews, but rarely did he encounter one as cohesive as this. Crews like these were always the most interesting.
With a graceful leap, Mio and Hawkeye landed on the nearby uninhabited island.
Back on the ship, Robin rested her chin on her hands, watching the two figures in the distance. "Erica, who do you think will win—our captain or Mr. Mihawk?"
Erica thought for a moment. "As much as I want Master to win, when it comes to swordsmanship, I believe Mr. Mihawk is stronger."
"Why? Have you fought him before?" Robin asked curiously. "How can you be sure?"
"I can feel it," Erica replied with a small smile. "When someone reaches a certain level of strength, their presence speaks for itself—unless they deliberately suppress it."
"And that presence, that aura, usually reflects their true strength."