In the corner of the tavern, a series of exclamations rang out.

Yoriichi, who was chatting with the bartender, turned his head slightly and glanced in that direction.

At that moment, in the corner of the bar, a group of patrons, some seated, some standing, were gathered around a small long table, all staring at a middle-aged man who was running the game.

In front of the middle-aged man sat a dice cup, showing three dice with the numbers: two, three, and three.

Sitting directly across from him was a young man with a square-shaped face. It was mid-July, and the young man wore a loose kimono and a pair of wooden clogs, with both hands resting on the table. In front of him were bundles of stacked Berries. Yoriichi quickly estimated—

The amount of Berries piled in front of that square-faced youth was close to a million.

For just a small gambling setup inside a tavern, that was an absurdly large amount being wagered on dice.

"Eleven wins in a row?"

"Could he be cheating?"

A Marine passing by with a drink muttered upon hearing this, then glanced at the square-faced youth collecting his winnings. But the instant he saw the man's face, guilt surfaced in his expression. He quickly apologized:

"Uh, sir, sorry."

"I didn't mean that."

The reason the Marine apologized so quickly was simple: the young man he had just suspected of cheating bore terrifying scars across his face.

Two of those scars extended from the forehead, slashing right through the eyes and down to the cheeks.

As the square-faced youth lifted his head while collecting money, his eyes opened, revealing only milky white sclera.

This youth who had just won eleven games in a row… was completely blind!

Seeing his condition, no wonder the Marine instantly retracted his earlier suspicion. After all, it was hard to imagine someone as disadvantaged as a blind man cheating at dice.

The fact that he wasn't being manipulated himself was a miracle!

"Hehehe, no worries."

The square-faced youth gave a warm smile. After scooping the cash in front of him, he gently placed his hand over the pile of Berries, fumbled for two bundles, and set them on the table.

"Dealer, let's continue."

As he spoke, the middle-aged dealer couldn't help pulling out a handkerchief to wipe the cold sweat from his face. He smiled awkwardly and said to the crowd:

"One moment, please! Just a moment."

"I need to… reset."

This man had always been the dealer in this tavern's dice game. Before this square-faced youth sat down, he had never once lost. Because in dice games like this, the dealer took very little risk. Wins and losses were mostly just money exchanged between players.

Even when the dealer had to pay out, it was never too much.

Three dice, betting big or small had roughly even odds. The 'triple' (all three dice showing the same number), however, was the dealer's pure profit.

After all, only in movies would someone bet on triples and actually win.

But that kind of low-risk "business" changed the moment this young man sat down.

At first, no one knew anything about the blind youth. Patrons made bets based on their own guesses. Even though the youth was winning, the dealer wasn't the one losing—it was the other players.

But after the youth kept winning multiple rounds, the others caught on and started following his bets.

Now the dealer was the one bleeding money.

In just this short time, he had already lost several hundred thousand Berries.

And even worse, he couldn't stop the game now. If he did, who would ever come back to gamble here again?

After a brief pause, the dealer pocketed the handkerchief, glanced at the eerily calm square-faced youth, nervously cracked his neck and fingers, and sat back down.

He closed the dice cup and began to shake it rapidly.

Thud!

After a dozen or so shakes, he slammed the cup onto the table. The crowd's eyes immediately turned to the square-faced youth.

"This round... I bet Big!"

The youth tossed two bundles of Berries onto the table and declared loudly. Seeing him bet, the rest of the crowd eagerly followed, not only copying his bet but going all in—whatever they had in hand, they threw it all down without hesitation.

They didn't seem worried about losing at all.

Within one round, the table had tens of thousands of Berries riding on it.

The middle-aged dealer, sweating bullets, wiped his forehead and, under the pressure of the crowd, lifted the dice cup.

"Five, four, five!"

"Big!!"

One of the winning patrons slapped the table in joy and shouted in excitement. The surrounding spectators erupted into cheers, exchanging high-fives and celebratory hugs.

"Whoa, this guy's insane!"

"Sir, interested in a game with me?"

The middle-aged dealer gloomily began digging money out from a case at his feet to pay out. Just then, a crisp voice cut through the noise.

Everyone turned their heads toward the sound and saw a red-haired youth in a Marine uniform and Justice cloak stepping up to the table, looking directly at the square-faced man.

The Marine who had earlier given way to him quickly stood aside and saluted quietly: "Rear Admiral Tsugikuni!"

"?"

"Hehehe, young man, if you're interested, just place a bet."

The square-faced youth somehow knew exactly who the newcomer was addressing. Facing Yoriichi's direction, he smiled and said:

"Playing with someone else and playing with you are two different things."

"Let's not go big. Just three rounds. I don't have much cash, 100,000 Berries per round."

"Just for fun."

Yoriichi stepped up beside the youth and gestured to the middle-aged dealer, who instantly handed him the dice cup with eager flattery.

A savior! This Rear Admiral was his savior!

"Just for fun."

"Alright then."

"But young man, how do you want to play? Are you going to be the dealer?"

The blind youth, accepting the challenge, smiled and asked.

"Ah, I'll shake the dice, and you bet."

"But I have one condition: you place your bet first, then I'll shake."

Upon hearing this, the surrounding patrons all looked at Yoriichi with suspicion. How was this fair? Dice masters could not only manipulate big or small results—they could even control the exact numbers.

Typically, the bet came after the dice were shaken to prevent such tricks.

Yoriichi's proposal sounded like a con.

Everyone suspected he was a dice master trying to scam the blind man's money!

"Hehehe..."

"What a curious way to bet. Let's give it a try."

Just when they thought the blind youth would decline, he accepted calmly.

Without a word, Yoriichi picked up the dice cup and looked at him. The blind youth said, "Big."

Yoriichi gave a slight shake, placed the cup down, and revealed: 6, 6, 3.

Big!

Seeing that it really was big, Yoriichi raised his eyebrows slightly. "Again."

"Big!" The blind youth replied instantly.

Yoriichi nodded, closed the cup, shook gently again, and opened it without hesitation—6, 5, 5.

Still big.

Two rounds in a row left the patrons gasping. Yoriichi's expression grew serious. "Last round. Big or small?"

Without hesitation, the blind youth smiled and said, "This time… Small!"

Yoriichi shook the dice twice this time, then set the cup down and opened it.

2, 2, 3. Small!

Yoriichi broke into a bright smile and asked, "Sir, may I ask your name?"

"Issho."

"My name is Issho."

Hearing this, Yoriichi's smile deepened and, suddenly off-topic, he asked:

"Mr. Issho, how about joining the Marines?"

"I'll vouch for you!"

"A Haki as refined as your Observation is wasted on gambling tables."

The surrounding patrons didn't understand what "Observation Haki" meant. They only saw that this red-haired young Marine lost a few rounds and then suddenly invited the blind man to join the Marines.

A blind man… as a Marine?!

Many glanced at Yoriichi with odd expressions.

Was this invitation real? Or was it just a scam to avoid paying his losses?

Ordinary people in the New World had mixed opinions about the Marines. Most weren't inclined to trust them and wouldn't hesitate to assume the worst. If they were in his shoes, they might do the same.

"Marines?"

Issho froze for a moment, clearly not expecting the conversation to take this turn mid-gamble.

Hearing Yoriichi's absurdly young voice, Issho shook his head, reached for the cane leaning against the table, and gently declined:

"Sorry, I have no plans to join the Marines."

"Besides, I'm blind. I can't steer a ship, nor serve as a lookout or sentry."

"Recruiting someone like me as a Marine would be a joke."

He chuckled as he spoke, slowly rising from his seat. He didn't even bother with the money on the table. With cane tapping the ground, he turned to leave.

The other patrons looked at the mountain of Berries still on the table. One helpful soul called out, "Sir, your money!"

Issho smiled in sudden realization, "Ah, sorry, I forgot."

"This is mine. The rest… you all can split it."

He fumbled for about 50,000 Berries, tucked it into his robe, and turned to go. The moment he did, the rest of the bar lunged at the table.

"Mine! All mine! Don't take it!"

"Split it evenly! Split it!!"

In a chaotic mess, the patrons jostled over the money. One of them even shoved Yoriichi aside to reach the table.

Yoriichi didn't take it personally. Instead, he sidestepped and caught up to Issho, calling out:

"Wait, Mr. Issho."

Issho paused mid-step and turned slightly. "Rear Admiral, is there something else?"

"I owe you 300,000 Berries. If you just walk off like this, I'll feel terrible."

"To be honest, I don't make a habit of owing people money."

"I know you probably don't care, but even so, I have to repay it."

"I don't have the cash on me now. I'll get it from my ship. Where are you staying? I'll bring it to you."

Issho shook his head, smiling. "No need for that trouble."

As he walked toward the door, Yoriichi could tell: this man genuinely didn't care about money.

And people like that… often pursued something greater.

Seeing that Issho had no interest in the Marines, Yoriichi didn't press the issue. For someone with a strong will like Issho, coercion wouldn't work anyway.

The wheels of fate keep turning. They would meet again someday.

"Mr. Issho!"

"My name is Yoriichi Tsugikuni."

"If nothing goes wrong, I'll be a Marine Vice Admiral in half a month."

"If you ever change your mind, come find me. Wherever I am—I'll come meet you."

As Issho left, Yoriichi called out to him. The tavern fell eerily silent. Everyone turned to stare at Yoriichi, eyes filled with surprise, respect, and excitement.

"Yoriichi Tsugikuni?!"

"The Yoriichi?!"

"The red-haired youth... it's really him!"

The patrons whispered amongst themselves, watching him with awe.

And just before leaving, Issho paused briefly and turned.

Though he was blind, in that moment, Yoriichi could feel it—Issho was examining him.

Yes, examining!

After a moment, Issho turned back, tapped his cane, and exited the tavern. His voice floated behind him:

"I'll remember that."

Yoriichi returned to the bar, chatting with his subordinates again. But the atmosphere had completely changed.

Everyone was now cautious and polite, even the bartender, who had once joked with him freely, now spoke stiffly and formally.

Sensing the awkward change, Yoriichi and his crew knew it was time to leave. After all, drinking in silence wasn't fun.

BOOM!!!!!!

Just as they were about to leave, a massive explosion erupted outside. A fierce gust of wind and dust burst through the tavern doors, sweeping into the bar.

Patrons were blown off their feet. Tables were overturned.

At the same time, the ground began to quake violently. Sensing something, Yoriichi grabbed his sword and vanished from the bar.

"Quick! Let's check it out!"

Kyros, reacting half a beat late, shouted and rushed out with his men.

On the street outside, a massive crater caught everyone's attention. In its center lay a one-meter wide, still-burning "rock sphere."

It looked like it had fallen from the sky, scarred and cratered, totally out of place.

Despite being just one meter wide, the pit beneath it was enormous. Inside the pit was a still-burning corpse.

Right in front of the sphere stood Issho, the blind youth who had just left the tavern, calmly standing in the middle of the street.

Surrounding him were several fierce-looking men, all wearing expressions of fear and disbelief.

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100 P.S = 1 Extra Chapter

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