The name "Dragon," muttered as a last threat, didn't hold Satoru's interest. To him, it was merely another insignificant name belonging to someone who would inevitably fall.
In an instant, Satoru vanished from the chaotic docks and reappeared aboard a ship undergoing coating. His gaze landed on a man of calm demeanor, yellow and white hair glinting under the sunlight.
"I didn't expect to encounter the legendary 'Dark King' Silvers Rayleigh here," Satoru said, his voice carrying an edge of respect mixed with curiosity.
Rayleigh, startled for only a moment, let a warm chuckle escape. "Well, well, it's rare to see a young man who recognizes an old relic like me. Retired as I am, I thought I'd slipped into anonymity."
"I think you underestimate your legacy, Mr. Rayleigh," Satoru replied, his tone polite but tinged with a hint of challenge. "Your name alone could quiet the cries of a restless baby."
Rayleigh leaned back casually against the ship's railing, his sharp eyes narrowing as he sized up the white-haired youth before him. Despite Satoru's apparent respect, the boy's aura was anything but meek.
"And you, young man? You seem far too bold to be an ordinary traveler. Who might you be?"
Satoru smiled faintly. "A Navy cadet," he admitted. "Just someone curious about how far I have to go to match the legends of the sea."
Rayleigh tilted his head, bemused. "So, does that mean you're here to arrest me?"
Satoru shook his head, an uncharacteristic grin spreading across his face. "Not at all. I simply couldn't pass up the opportunity to test my strength against a legend like you."
Rayleigh chuckled again, this time with genuine amusement. "You're a reckless one. Fine, let's see what you've got, cadet."
Without hesitation, Satoru unleashed his first strike. His fist, cloaked in raw energy, darted toward Rayleigh with blinding speed. The older man grabbed a wooden stick from nearby, coating it in Armament Haki as he blocked the blow. The clash reverberated across the ship, splintering parts of the deck and sending shockwaves into the air.
Rayleigh frowned, glancing at the damage to the ship. "You're quite the troublemaker. Do you have any idea how much it'll cost to repair this?"
Satoru smirked. "I figured someone like you could handle it, Mr. Rayleigh."
Their exchange of blows continued, the younger fighter pressing forward with unrelenting energy. But despite his skill and strength, Rayleigh's composure never faltered. His movements, while seemingly effortless, carried decades of mastery and precision.
"Not bad," Rayleigh commented as their fists briefly locked in a stalemate. "But you've got a ways to go if you want to reach the top."
Satoru stepped back, acknowledging Rayleigh's strength. "I'll stop here. It's clear that the gap between us is still vast. But I'll close it one day."
Rayleigh sighed with relief, his grip on the wooden stick loosening. "Good choice, kid. I'm not as young as I used to be, you know."
Satoru waved as he prepared to leave. "Until next time, Mr. Rayleigh. I'll be stronger then."
As Satoru disappeared from sight, Rayleigh stared at his trembling hand, which still tingled from the earlier clash. A wry smile spread across his face.
"That boy… the Navy's nurturing something dangerous. If he's not already one, he'll become a true monster someday."
Meanwhile, Satoru's thoughts were heavy. Though he'd held his own briefly, it was clear that he was still leagues behind legends like Rayleigh. If he couldn't match a retired pirate, how could he hope to face the terrors of the New World?
"Shanks mentioned an interesting white-haired youth once," Rayleigh mused to himself. "I wonder if that boy is the one he meant…"