"Be my son."
Maybe Whitebeard's line carried more power for recruiting hearts, but Rox wasn't old like Whitebeard, nor did he have that same fatherly itch.
Zoro lay on the ground, staring in a daze at Rox who had somehow appeared at his side, then at the sword at Rox's waist.
"You're a swordsman too?"
"No. I'm just a scientist without much strength."
"How are you going to make me the strongest in the world, then?"
Zoro's face showed the question clearly. If Rox wasn't a swordsman, how could he teach swordsmanship? How could he make Zoro the strongest?
"A scientist uses inventions to make people stronger."
"Inventions? Medicine that boosts the body? Or fruit-like powers like Devil Fruit?"
"Both — they can boost the body and sometimes grant special abilities. It depends on fate and constitution."
Zoro was stunned. Things like that really existed? No wonder Mihawk had called Rox strange — Zoro felt like a frog in a well.
He didn't hesitate long. Struggling to his feet, he said, "If it makes me stronger, I'll follow you."
Rox's lips curved into a satisfied smile. From his pocket he produced an odd-shaped chunk of purple flesh and said, "Eat this — and you'll get stronger."
Just as Zoro reached to take it, a sharp voice cut in, full of surprise:
"That is… a monster cell?! So you're the mysterious Beast-Prince — Rox, the one called the Fifth Sea Emperor!"
Only Yamato and Mihawk could immediately recognize a monster cell. Mihawk's sharp gaze locked onto Rox; his muscles tensed with excitement.
"No wonder your sword looked unusual — that must be the Hachimonji-devouring blade, Enma."
"To think someone like you would show up in the East Blue."
Everyone froze: Zoro, Alvida, Nami, even Blade-God Johnny and Sword-Saint Yosaku. The man standing before them was the talk of the seas — Rox, the Beast-Prince, the Fifth Sea Emperor.
Alvida nearly peed herself and trembled like a sieve. Nami's heart pounded; her planned escape evaporated. In front of Rox, even Arlong seemed insignificant.
Zoro's initial shock faded into a calm acceptance. Serving under a Sea Emperor like Rox wasn't shame — it was an honor. Being invited by a Sea Emperor meant you'd already been seen and approved.
Rox showed a faint helpless smile — he had wanted to keep some mystery. Mihawk's eyes were too sharp.
Rox looked at Mihawk and shrugged, "Since you've recognized me, what will you do? Turn me in to the World Government for the bounty?"
There was a five-billion Beli reward on Rox's head. Tempting, to say the least. But Mihawk had no interest in being anyone's errand runner.
Instead Mihawk's voice carried something else: excitement. He stepped forward and repeated, deliberately,
"I, Dracule Mihawk, in the name of the world's strongest swordsman, challenge you — Rox, Fifth Sea Emperor!"
Rox's expression went even more resigned. He was only a meek inventor. Fighting wasn't his hobby. Why didn't Mihawk pick a real target — like Rox's cheap step-father Kaido? Or the three calamities? That would tire Mihawk out properly.
Rox sighed and faced Mihawk seriously.
"I don't like fighting. I like inventing. But if a fight is unavoidable, it will be a fight to the death."
"In other words — you will die here today, Mihawk."
The calm, matter-of-fact tone sent an involuntary chill through the crowd. Not one to move unless lethal — was this the gravity of the Fifth Sea Emperor?
Even Mihawk, a world-class swordsman, felt a prickle of cold. He finally understood why Shanks and Beckman had been wary when he left: Rox truly was a fearsome name — perhaps even more fearsome than Kaido.
Broken and bleeding, Zoro suddenly knelt — voice hoarse but blazing:
"Roronoa Zoro asks — please! Slay Mihawk for me! It's my life's vow! My promise to Kuina!"
Rox helped Zoro up and looked at Mihawk with a wry smile.
"Looks like the one to defeat Mihawk will not be me. Satisfy this young man's ambition."
Mihawk didn't answer for a long moment. That silence was something close to assent.
Rox turned to Zoro and offered, "Eat this monster cell. You still have a long way to go if you want to beat Mihawk."
Zoro was overwhelmed with gratitude. He took the offering, then paused, remembering a rumor.
"Rox-dono, I read your monster cells come in grades — low and high. I want the higher one."
"This is the advanced cell — demon-grade, above tiger-grade," Rox said.
Zoro had trained his body since childhood; his constitution was far superior to many. Rox estimated Zoro could likely endure a demon-grade cell.
But Zoro's ambition wouldn't stop there. "Is there anything above demon-grade?"
Rox hesitated — a rarity. Above demon is dragon-grade.
Dragon-grade monster cells demand not only a strong body, but also an existing level of power to bear the side effects. Even in the Beast crew, only the Three Calamities could handle dragon-grade safely. Fail to withstand it, and death was the price.
Zoro's present strength was nowhere near that. Rox saw Zoro's potential and didn't want to lose such a recruit. He wrestled with whether to tell Zoro the truth. Hesitation was an answer in itself.
"I don't care what it costs. I'll accept whatever happens," Zoro declared.
Rox's voice was blunt: "You might die."
"I already died once," Zoro grinned through grit. "I died the moment I lost just now."
For someone whose life goal was to be the strongest, losing was death. If he had chosen to live, he would not accept losing again.
Seeing Zoro's death-defying calm, Rox nodded.
He withdrew the demon-grade cell and instead produced the dragon-grade cell he had prepared for Enel.
Zoro took it without hesitation and swallowed.
Yamato rushed over — she knew how dangerous a dragon-grade cell was.
"Rox! Why give him that? Zoro's not strong enough!"
Rox spoke with a touch of admiration and melancholy: "This is a man's resolve. I cannot refuse him."
Mihawk stepped forward watching Zoro writhing in agony after ingesting the dragon-grade cell. For the first time Mihawk shouted, loudly:
"Roronoa — hold on! I wait for you atop the world's peak!"
"Surpass me, Roronoa!!"
Zoro convulsed and roared like a beast, teetering on the edge of sanity. Still, he clung to a single thread of awareness, a sliver of lucid thought. Through clenched teeth he bellowed in a blurred, violent whisper:
"Of…course!!!"
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