Chapter 72: Ian Bet Against Fujitora!
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The two men continued their conversation, their words weaving a cryptic tapestry.
Meanwhile, the casino manager, thoroughly ignored, finally reached his breaking point. He could no longer tolerate their enigmatic exchange and the blatant disregard for his authority. He barked at Fujitora, “Hey, old man! You’re out of chips. What are you still doing here? Leave your collateral and get out!”
The manager’s patience had worn thin.
However, Fujitora and Ian remained seated, seemingly oblivious to his outburst and the approaching thugs. Ian calmly spoke, his voice cutting through the tension, “How about a wager?”
“What did you have in mind?” Fujitora responded, his tone equally serene, a flicker of interest in his sightless, milky-white eyes.
“Roulette. Since I proposed the game, you may choose what you’re most proficient with,” Ian offered.
“And what are your stakes?” Fujitora asked, a gentle smile gracing his lips. He detected no disrespect or conceit in Ian’s words.
“I have nothing to offer as collateral. If you win, I’ll perform any task you request. If I win, you come with me.”
The terms were straightforward, the very reason for Ian’s presence here. He wasn’t worried about Fujitora refusing.
In the original story, Fujitora had willingly joined the Marines through the World Military Draft. This demonstrated his genuine desire to serve, albeit with a touch of pride. He hadn’t been willing to climb the ranks from the bottom, choosing instead to enter as an Admiral.
Later, during the Dressrosa arc, upon witnessing Doflamingo’s atrocities, he had bowed before the citizens, declaring, “To hell with this kind of justice!”
He had even confronted Akainu directly, showing no deference to his authority.
He wasn’t afraid of being stripped of his rank. Clearly, his primary motivation was to uphold true justice. In that case, what difference was there between a Warlord and a Marine?
If Fujitora refused, Ian would simply offer him his own Vice Admiral position, taking the Warlord title for himself. With the World Government’s backing, he could operate with even greater freedom.
“Intriguing. However, I will never act against my own principles,” Fujitora stated firmly, outlining his non-negotiable condition.
“Hmm? Conceding before the game even begins? Rest assured, those who reach our level of power possess unwavering principles. Even ruthless individuals like Kaido and Big Mom value familial bonds and honor their agreements. Not to mention Shanks and Whitebeard, who champion freedom and righteousness.”
“Very well, then. I’ve been rather bored lately. I wouldn’t mind causing some chaos alongside you.”
Fujitora remained humble despite Ian’s words. Individuals of their caliber never acted without purpose. Ian’s willingness to make such a significant wager implied a compelling reason, one that Fujitora couldn't refuse, even in defeat.
He was eager to uncover the truth.
Therefore, the outcome of the gamble itself was secondary.
“You two…!”
The casino manager, enraged by their cryptic conversation and blatant disregard, felt his anger boil over.
Did they think he operated without powerful backing? He wasn’t afraid of causing trouble, he simply preferred to avoid it. He gestured to his men.
“Get them!”
He coldly glared at them before issuing the command. The thugs, armed with swords and guns, surged forward, intending to subdue Fujitora and Ian before finishing them off with a bullet.
However, the instant they moved, an immense pressure descended upon them.
WHOOSH!
A crushing weight bore down on them, their bones creaking and groaning under the strain, threatening to buckle and break.
The casino manager and his thugs crumpled under the force of gravity, collapsing to their knees, gasping for air.
The floorboards groaned and splintered beneath them, their faces contorted in disbelief and terror. They had no idea what had just happened.
With immense effort, they managed to lift their heads, their gazes fixed on Ian and Fujitora, who remained seated, seemingly unaffected by the crushing force. A wave of fear washed over them.
Then, they slumped to the ground, unconscious.
They had clearly underestimated their opponents.
The surrounding gamblers watched the scene unfold with amusement, a welcome distraction from their usual games.
“White sixteen,” Ian declared, observing Fujitora’s willingness to spin the roulette wheel.
He wasn't sure if Fujitora had achieved the pinnacle of Observation Haki, granting him the ability to see the future, but he remained calm. After all, the future was not set in stone.
Based on his 47% fusion rate and corresponding spiritual pressure, he was still slightly weaker than an Admiral. To defeat one, he would likely need to utilize the power of the Devil Fruits he had absorbed, requiring at least 50% fusion. To challenge a Yonko, he would need closer to 60%.
Altered futures remained unseen. Future Sight could only perceive a single, predetermined path. Any intervention, any deviation from that path, rendered the future unpredictable. He recalled the events of the Whole Cake Island arc.
Katakuri’s Future Sight, despite its incredible accuracy, had consistently failed against Luffy's unpredictable actions. While perceiving the past was guaranteed to be accurate, it was also immutable.
Even the time-manipulating Devil Fruits in the One Piece world, like Foxy’s Slow-Slow Fruit and Bonney’s unnamed Devil Fruit, could only affect objects and individuals, not the flow of time itself.
Toki’s Time-Time Fruit allowed her to travel forward in time, but not to alter the past or future. A true time-traveling Devil Fruit had yet to appear.
Even Dimaria Yesta, one of the Spriggan 12 in Fairy Tail, could only freeze time in a limited area. Ultear Milkovich's Arc of Time magic allowed for limited time manipulation, but those stronger than her could potentially resist its effects. The only individuals capable of truly altering the past and future were Shūkurō Tsukishima from Bleach and Yhwach, the progenitor of the Quincy.
Tsukishima’s Fullbring, "Book of the End," allowed him to insert himself into the past of others, effectively rewriting their memories. While not true time travel, it was a powerful and versatile ability.
After all, the past preceded the future. Altering the past would inevitably rewrite the future.
Therefore, the ability to change the past was, in a sense, even more potent than Yhwach’s power to alter the future. However, Yhwach’s strength stemmed from his connection to the Soul King, the source of all spiritual power.
His ability to bestow powers upon others was a form of creation, a manifestation of the Soul King’s power.
Even if Yhwach didn’t possess complete control over the Soul King’s power, he could still wield a portion of it, similar to Dimaria.
Whether it was freezing time or sending oneself or others into the future, such abilities were incredibly powerful. Facing a completely altered world could drive anyone to madness, unless they possessed unwavering resolve, no emotional attachments, and the strength to adapt quickly. Time, space, elements, and various other powers…
At their core, they were all branches of the fundamental forces of spirit and life, similar to Yin-Yang Release in Naruto. With sufficient mastery, they could manifest in countless forms, like the branches of a mighty tree.
“An auspicious number,” Fujitora responded calmly, spinning the roulette wheel. As the wheel began to rotate, the atmosphere between Ian and Fujitora grew heavy, the air thick with anticipation.
A crack appeared on the edge of the table in front of Ian. Simultaneously, a similar crack formed on Fujitora’s side. Crack… Crack…
The cracks spread beyond the table, snaking across the floor beneath their feet. The air shimmered and distorted, but Ian remained seated, his expression unchanging. However, his appearance began to shift.
His skin turned deathly pale, a partial horned skull helmet materialized on his head, tear marks appeared beneath his eyes, and his pupils turned green. The Ulquiorra template fused with him, and a white-sheathed Zanpakutō materialized at his hip.
His Marine Vice Admiral coat, adorned with black sleeves, also materialized, a testament to his 47% fusion rate. He no longer needed to purchase or craft weapons and attire; he could manifest them through his spiritual power.
BOOM! The chairs beneath them and the table between them crumbled into dust. Neither of them possessed Conqueror’s Haki, but their respective powers, the Zushi Zushi no Mi and spiritual pressure, produced a similar, even more potent effect.
Fujitora’s expression shifted, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. Only the roulette wheel at the center of the table remained intact, though covered in cracks, its numbers barely legible. It had stopped spinning, and the ball had landed on sixteen.
“Impressive,” Fujitora commented, a gentle smile replacing his initial surprise. He sheathed his partially drawn sword.
Ian shrugged. “Likewise.”
Their brief clash of power, a silent battle between Fujitora’s gravity and Ian’s spiritual pressure, had ended in a stalemate, leaving the casino in ruins, its patrons long gone.
Outside, a crowd had gathered, drawn by the commotion.
They had merely been testing each other’s strength. “So it is you. The ‘Black-Winged Devil’ Vice Admiral, who defeated two Warlords and fought the world’s greatest swordsman, Dracule Mihawk, to a draw. Your reputation precedes you. Are you here to recruit me into the Marines? I don’t recall committing any heinous crimes.”
“I do intend to join the Marines, to contribute my strength to their cause. However, I’m not interested in starting from the bottom, participating in the World Military Draft and slowly climbing the ranks. That would be a waste of time. And with you here in person, I doubt you’re offering me a trivial position.”
Fujitora smiled, his true intentions hidden beneath a veneer of politeness. He had always been careful to conceal his acts of justice, but his deeds had not gone unnoticed.
While a Vice Admiral was no match for an Admiral or Fleet Admiral, Ian, at the age of eighteen or nineteen, had already defeated two Warlords and fought Mihawk to a draw. His future potential was limitless, exceeding even that of an Admiral, rivaling even the Yonko.
Ian stood and addressed Fujitora, “No. I’m here to offer you the position vacated by Crocodile among the Seven Warlords of the Sea. If you truly wish to serve the Marines, I’m willing to relinquish my Vice Admiral position. I’ll become a pirate.”
“Whether you choose to be a pirate or a Marine, I believe you’re capable of filling Moria’s shoes. The news of his replacement has likely spread by now.”
“I see. So, rather than entrusting the position to someone untrustworthy, it’s better to have it under your control. I sense a unique form of justice within you, Vice Admiral. A promise from someone like you… I accept.” Fujitora agreed more readily than Ian had anticipated. In a way, the Warlords…
Perhaps they were even more appealing than the Marines. Both organizations offered a path to justice, but as a Warlord, he could reduce the number of pirates wreaking havoc across the seas. His actions, driven by a strong sense of righteousness, had not gone unnoticed by the World Government.
They had refrained from assigning him a bounty, as he had carefully concealed his identity. Ian’s willingness to relinquish his Vice Admiral position and a promising future within the Marines demonstrated a level of commitment to justice that transcended any single organization. It was a broader, more encompassing vision than Fujitora’s own.
Despite his youth, Ian possessed a wisdom and understanding that surpassed his years. His sincerity and unwavering conviction were enough to earn Fujitora’s trust.
“Excellent. Don’t worry, you won’t be alone among the Warlords for long. I’m sure we’ll be sharing drinks together soon enough. Someone will be coming for me shortly.” Ian smiled, confident that his departure from Marine Headquarters had been reported to Doflamingo by Vergo, the undercover Marine within his crew.
Doflamingo was likely already on his way. However, he had miscalculated. Fujitora, who would later clash with Doflamingo in Dressrosa, seeking to abolish the Warlord system, was already here.
Neither of them could defeat Doflamingo alone. But together, they could easily end his reign.
After all, Fujitora was now a Warlord, replacing Crocodile. There was no Marine justice to uphold here. This was simply a conflict between Warlords.
The Marines had no jurisdiction.
“Doflamingo? I should have known. You eliminated Crocodile, who attempted to usurp a kingdom. You wouldn’t tolerate Doflamingo’s similar actions. It’s not that you oppose the Warlord system itself, but rather the idea of it being controlled by corrupt individuals.”
“Precisely. Though, in their cases, they were the ones who started the fight…” Ian couldn’t reveal his true motives for targeting Crocodile and Moria: their Devil Fruit powers.
“You eliminated Diamante, one of his top executives, not long ago. Now that you’ve left Marine Headquarters, if he hears the news, he won’t let you go. Allow me to assist you.” Fujitora offered.
They exited the casino, stepping into the bustling streets, where a crowd of onlookers had gathered, buzzing with excitement. They recognized Ian, his reputation preceding him.
“What’s this?” Fujitora and Ian exchanged puzzled glances as a group of Marines approached, claiming to have received reports of a disturbance. There were about twenty of them.
They were escorting an elderly man with glasses and a vertical scar over his right eye. As they drew closer, their expressions mirrored those of Fujitora and Ian, a mixture of confusion and surprise.
“Rayleigh-san? Why is he being arrested? With his strength, that shouldn’t be possible…” Fujitora muttered, his voice laced with bewilderment. Ian sighed inwardly. So, they knew each other.
Of course they did. The two gambling legends of the pirate world, This was too perfect, a scene straight out of a play.
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Word Count [2332]
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To Be Continued..
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