Zoro's skin cells were erupting — splitting and multiplying at a terrifying rate.
Blood flowed from every orifice; his eyes bulged; teeth sharpened into blades.
His limbs twisted. Tendons shredded. Bones creaked and warped. Even his neck bent into a grotesque curve.
It was almost impossible to imagine the agony he endured.
This was a far worse spectacle than anything the Three Calamities experienced when they took dragon-grade cells. It proved one brutal fact: Zoro's current body could not naturally withstand a dragon-grade monster cell.
Still, Zoro refused to give in. He gritted his teeth and uttered beastly roars.
Bang!
His lower left leg exploded into a spray of blood and mist.
Even a man tempered by lifelong hardship could not hold back that scream of pain.
"Rox—please stop him!" Yamato grabbed Rox's arm, panic in her voice.
Rox shook his head. "Once someone swallows a monster cell, even I cannot stop the process."
Yamato froze, watching Zoro writhe on the deck, grief softening her eyes.
Mihawk watched too, the blade-maestro's face unreadable. He had already seen enough to judge: Zoro had the heart of a true warrior and boundless potential — but he'd rushed himself.
If Zoro had taken a demon-grade cell, he would suffer but survive; dragon-grade, though only one rank higher, was an entirely different order — ten times the gap in power and toxicity. For a greenhand who'd only just set out to sea, dragon-grade was like forcing an ant to lift a boulder.
Lucky for Zoro, Rox had outside help.
Rox stepped close and said, "Open your mouth."
With the last sliver of consciousness, Zoro forced his mouth open. Rox dropped a small green pill inside.
Mihawk's eyes flickered. "Is that… a Senzu bean — the one that heals all wounds?"
Rox nodded. "Yes."
Zoro couldn't naturally endure the dragon cell's side effects — but his physique and iron will let him cling to life long enough. Rox planned to patch him up with Senzu beans: essentially giving Zoro extra lives so he could keep pushing.
It worked. The blown leg knitted back together; his breathing eased. The screams softened. And though the pain returned hours later, Rox fed him another Senzu. Again, and again.
Five Senzu beans in total. At last Zoro's vitals steadied; the swollen, proliferating skin cells receded.
After about fifteen more minutes, Zoro rose. Bare-chested, his muscles were tight and full — every inch honed.
He collapsed to one knee before Rox and bowed his head, words raw and fierce: "I will never forget your great kindness!"
Such an act from a man like Zoro was a vow of unbreakable loyalty. Rox allowed himself a satisfied smile. Spending five Senzu beans worth a fortune to secure Zoro's heart and oath? Worth every coin.
Rox helped him up. "How do you feel?"
"Fantastic!" Zoro answered. He clenched his fist and struck the air — a tree several meters away toppled from the shockwave.
Mihawk watched, impressed despite himself. "That power from a single monster cell… If I'd trained from youth, I'd still need a decade to reach this."
Mihawk's gaze flicked to Rox with a long sigh. Monster cells and Senzu beans — these inventions could unbalance the whole world.
Zoro, newly empowered and impatient, shouted, "Mihawk — give me another match!"
Rox and Yamato stepped back to the Alvida ship to watch. What would happen when dragon-boosted Zoro faced Mihawk would be no quiet sparring — the duel could level the islet.
Mihawk drew his black blade, curious as well. "Come, boy."
Power flowing in like a wild tide made Zoro brimming with confidence. His two other swords had broken against Mihawk earlier; now he borrowed Johnny and Yosaku's blades.
Johnny and Yosaku gaped. Zoro flexed — his arm now thicker than the nearby tree trunk. "I feel monstrous," he laughed, wild ambition burning in his eyes. "But that's what I want. A beast that becomes a monster to rule!"
He strode back onto the rocky field and faced Mihawk.
"I won't mess around this time," Zoro warned, teeth bared.
Mihawk smiled. "That spirit suits you. You're not the same man as before. But I am still the world's strongest swordsman."
Zoro launched with blinding speed — a blink and he was in front of Mihawk. Three blades swirled.
Mihawk calmly met the assault with his black blade, the clash ringing like thunder. The earth cracked beneath their feet. Zoro's strike forcefulness was incredible — so much raw power — but Mihawk gave ground only to counterstrike with cold precision. A huge green sword-sheen sliced outward.
Zoro tensed — he could finally sense what Mihawk's true strength felt like. The earlier engagement had been but a sliver of Mihawk's might.
This was the kind of fight Zoro had craved.
He met the sword-light head-on. "Break it!" he roared — and, by sheer force, tore the sword-wave apart.
"Three-Sword Style — Tiger Hunt!" He brought the three blades like a falling tiger; the strike manifested a brief, terrifying tiger-shaped sword-energy. The blow was far more powerful than the first duel.
Steel sang; they exchanged dozens of attacks in a heartbeat. Overall Mihawk still held the edge: experience and technique were his domain. Zoro relied on the brute, explosive gains from the dragon cell — enormous strength, amplified speed and reflex — but his swordcraft understanding hadn't matured overnight.
A massive collision later, ground heaved and collapsed. Zoro panted; Johnny and Yosaku's borrowed swords splintered. Mihawk, too, folded his breath for a moment.
"You're worthy," Mihawk said quietly. "I may be the best, but even if you turned monstrous I still could not be unseated easily."
Zoro closed his eyes, then opened them — a cold flash of steel and he was gone from Mihawk's sight, then suddenly behind him. A sliver of Wado Ichimonji ended up with a smear of blood.
Mihawk glanced down at a small wound on his side and asked, "What move was that?"
"One-Sword Style — Iai — Death — Lion Song!" Zoro replied. Blood blossomed across his back, but for a dragon-cell body it was not fatal.
Zoro smiled through it. "I lost again — twice today, the bitter taste of defeat, twice in one day."
Mihawk was silent. A young rookie — hardly out to sea, unversed even in haki — had still managed to cut him. There was something remarkable here.
From that Iai strike Mihawk sensed a domineering pressure — a trembling hint of an awakening, like the very first breaths of Conqueror's Haki. It's that raw presence which had allowed the strike to bite through his guard.
Mihawk's certainty solidified: given time, if Zoro learns to wield Haki and refines his blade technique, surpassing Mihawk might not be impossible.
Sheathing his black blade, Mihawk said to Zoro, "I will remain at the summit. I wait for you."
Then he looked at Rox. "Your inventions are getting terrifying. Tell me — what is your ambition?"
Rox's eyebrow lifted. He smiled faintly. "A tinkerer's ambition: to change the world with technology."
Change the world — that implied confronting the World Government itself. Toppling the world order would touch off wars across the seas. Mihawk, hearing that, could not help but wonder: where would he stand when the storm came?
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