It was basically confirmed now.
This potion could restore youth, extend lifespan, and even treat old injuries inside the body. The effect on long-term chronic damage wasn't huge—but it did repair part of it.
"Keep using these pirates as test subjects," White Ghost said calmly.
"If they die, just catch more. The sea has as many of this kind of trash as you want."
"Yes, Captain." Naqin nodded. Pirates were just pirates.
The few pirates in the room wore numb, dead expressions.
It wasn't that they hadn't wanted to resist—Kuro had "trained" them once, and they'd learned how to behave.
"For now, observe," White Ghost continued.
"In two days, feed them another dose. We need to know how many times a single person can absorb it."
"Even if it only works once, the life force inside is still enough to help heal old injuries."
"Be bold. We're not short on money." He patted Naqin's shoulder.
"If you can improve it, even better."
"I will work hard, Captain," Naqin replied respectfully.
"Pass the order down," White Ghost added.
"No one is allowed to ask about Naqin's formula—except her and the squirrel mink. This is another money-maker for our ship."
"I'll relay it, Mr. White," Brook said with a courteous bow.
"Alright. Everyone disperse."
As White Ghost's group filed out, Arthur slipped around a corner.
White Ghost glanced his way with mild annoyance.
"Is he treating me like I'm blind?" he muttered.
"Sure, he's fast—but does he think everyone on this ship is stupid?"
He couldn't be bothered to deal with the rat.
Arthur didn't have access to anything truly critical anyway. Everything he could learn was the kind of information that would eventually leak outside sooner or later.
That night, after dinner, White Ghost tried to head into Elena's room.
But the moment the women heard that their next stop was to pick up another girl, they collectively kicked him out.
Every one of them looked at him with dangerous expressions—Ain especially. Even gentle, considerate Stella was dragged away by Ain.
Nami slept with Uta and Bai Hezi. Even the shy squirrel mink was pulled away by Elena.
White Ghost sighed and stared up at the night sky.
"So this is what happens when there are too many 'temples' and no water to drink…"
With no other choice, he went to sleep on the ship's figurehead. With his physique, even sleeping shirtless in snow wouldn't be a problem.
He was still sighing when Kuro walked over with a bottle and sat beside him.
"You really aren't going to deal with it?" Kuro asked.
White Ghost knew exactly what he meant.
Still staring at the sky, he replied,
"I got word that old man Garp is back in the East Blue on vacation."
Kuro relaxed slightly.
"Good." He poured himself a glass of red wine and drank.
Neither of them spoke after that.
They simply sat there, watching the dark sea.
Shimotsuki Village – Isshin Dojo
Kuina and Zoro were sparring on the training floor—back and forth, trading blows, neither willing to give ground.
Below the platform, Shimotsuki Koshiro watched with arms folded.
Ever since Kuina had lost Wado Ichimonji to Zoro, she'd thrown herself into training as if her life depended on it.
If her physique was lacking, she trained her body.
If her body couldn't keep up, she forced it.
The two of them were growing at a frightening pace.
Even so, Koshiro still didn't believe in Kuina's future.
Deep down, he remained stubbornly convinced that women could never become a great swordsman.
Kuina was improving quickly using the training method left behind by that man—but Koshiro couldn't deny the basic reality:
A woman's physical foundation was, on average, weaker than a man's.
Clang!
Zoro—currently using Two-Sword Style—locked Kuina's blade. His teeth were clenched, face flushed as he struggled to hold.
"Zoro," Kuina said coolly, "you look like you've gotten weaker."
"You're the one who's weaker!" Zoro roared, forcing her back with raw strength.
They burst into another rapid exchange.
Clang-clang-clang!
The students stared in a daze.
Kuina was fifteen now—already grown.
Zoro was only ten, but he'd shot up as well.
Almost no one in the dojo could stand against either of them anymore—except the teacher.
They fought every few days.
One day Kuina would win.
The next day Zoro would win.
Their victories traded back and forth.
Whoosh—!
Kuina slipped past Zoro's strike and casually cut toward his waist.
Zoro's eyes widened. He spun and blocked just in time.
Clang!
Zoro held steady—he didn't take a single step back.
Kuina smiled.
Zoro saw that smile and instantly felt something was wrong.
"Zoro," Kuina said calmly, "that man once told me: being strong is great—but if your power is smaller, then you fight with a smaller-power style."
She knocked one of Zoro's swords away and surged forward, relentlessly chasing him down—never letting him stoop to retrieve it.
"Damn it!" Zoro was forced to defend with only Wado Ichimonji, barely holding off the rain of strikes.
Koshiro frowned slightly.
He could feel it—something was different about Kuina.
Beside him, an old man watched as well.
Shimotsuki Kozaburo, Koshiro's father.
Cigarette in hand, Kozaburo said,
"She's about to break through."
Koshiro nodded.
He could see it too.
Kuina was one step away.
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