One Piece: My Crew is from Other World

By now, Vice Admiral Strawberry had fallen into utter despair.

Had it been a skirmish with some third-rate pirates, he might've had the confidence to hold the line. But this? The Dragon Hunter Pirates had arrived in full force—and at their helm was Ryuunosuke, their enigmatic and terrifying captain.

The moment Ryuunosuke appeared, Strawberry knew... they'd already lost.

"You lot still standing there?" Ryuunosuke muttered, glancing at the remaining marines with boredom. "Wanna stay and have dinner with us?"

His tone was so casual, it sent a chill through their spines.

The navy soldiers froze in place. None moved. None dared speak.

Ryuunosuke's gaze shifted to Strawberry, a flicker of impatience showing.

The vice admiral's face twitched with a swirl of conflicting emotions—relief, shame, defeat, and reluctant gratitude. But in the end, reason prevailed.

"Retreat," he ordered, voice hoarse.

He didn't need to say more.

There was no glory in dying here. They weren't just outmatched—they were hopelessly, laughably outclassed. The Dragon Hunter Pirates weren't a threat the navy could handle with grit or numbers. They were a force of nature.

And so, within moments, the navy had vanished—like mist under the sun.

Ryuunosuke hovered silently for a moment before landing lightly on the Ship of God.

"After all these years… still the same," came a voice, soft but piercing.

Zoro froze.

That voice—it couldn't be.

He turned.

There, standing on the deck, was a woman clad in black and white, her sword sheathed at her side. Her gaze was calm, sharp. Familiar.

"…Kuina?"

Zoro's voice barely carried, but everyone nearby heard the weight in those two syllables.

For a few seconds, his face remained unreadable.

Then—his eyes welled up.

Tears spilled freely down his cheeks.

He didn't sob. He didn't wail. He just stood there, trembling, as the impossible stood before him.

Ryuunosuke watched quietly, then turned to Mihawk. "I'll let you two catch up. Hawkeye—come with me. We've got some things to discuss."

Without another word, the two swordsmen leapt from the deck, disappearing into the distance like shadows cutting through the waves.

Zoro stepped forward, still stunned. "Kuina… I saw you die. I—"

"You buried me," Kuina said softly, stepping closer. "I know."

Her eyes were distant for a moment, recalling the memory. "But that funeral… was staged. My father arranged everything. For reasons I couldn't explain then."

Zoro clenched his fists. "You were alive… all this time?"

"I'm sorry, Zoro. I never wanted to leave you like that." Kuina's voice wavered slightly. "But I'm glad. Glad to see that after all these years, you still cry for me."

She smiled gently.

"Means our bond never broke."

Then, without warning, she drew her sword.

Zoro blinked—then smiled.

So that's how it was.

Now wasn't the time for grief or questions. Kuina was alive. That was all that mattered.

And her aura… it was even sharper than before.

"I trained hard. For your share, too."

He reached for his blades.

"You're looking at Zoro the Three-Sword Master now. So don't blink."

Drawing all three swords, Zoro placed a sword—between his teeth. A wave of fighting spirit burst from his body like a storm.

He would show her what his blades had become.

---

Meanwhile, aboard Hawkeye's small boat.

"I assume you didn't pull me aside just to reminisce," Mihawk said flatly, arms crossed. "I'm no longer a Shichibukai. Just another pirate now."

Even facing Ryuunosuke, Mihawk showed no fear. His eyes remained calm, his grip on the Black Sword firm.

The pride of the world's strongest swordsman was not something so easily shaken.

"You're still Jorakle Mihawk, aren't you?" Ryuunosuke asked.

Mihawk nodded, cautious. "That's right."

Ryuunosuke's gaze sharpened. "Do you know a man named Joraku Fugetsu?"

(Joraku is a japanese romanized name of Dracule)

For the first time in their conversation, Mihawk's expression cracked.

"…That's my elder," he replied after a pause. "Why are you asking about him?"

"No grudge," Ryuunosuke said calmly. "We crossed paths once. Fought, of course. I've been curious ever since."

Mihawk's brows furrowed.

"I don't know where he is," Mihawk said firmly, before Ryuunosuke could ask. "I only know… he was stronger than anyone I'd ever met. I wasn't even worthy to stand in his shadow."

"I see…" Ryuunosuke turned, preparing to leave. "Then I'll give you a tip in return. Fugetsu… might be on Raftel."

Mihawk's breath caught.

Raftel.

The legendary final island. The place no one reached without a lifetime of trials.

Before Mihawk could respond, Ryuunosuke had vanished, vanishing into the horizon.

Left behind, Mihawk stood alone under the sun, one hand tightening on his blade.

"The blade you gave me… old man," he whispered. "Are you really still out there?"

Turning the rudder, Hawkeye changed course—toward the New World.

---

Back aboard the Ship of God…

Clang!

Bite!

Wham!

Zoro and Kuina were already engaged in a fierce sparring match, their swords crashing with precision and speed few could follow.

Ryuunosuke landed beside Akame, arms crossed as he watched.

"They didn't waste time, huh?"

Akame nodded. "Sister Kuina didn't even say hello—just drew her sword and charged."

"But it's not a real fight," she added. "They're sparring."

Ryuunosuke smirked. "This boy Zoro… still not strong enough. Lifelong rival, huh?"

As if on cue, Kuina's blade knocked one of Zoro's swords aside. Her follow-up slash stopped just short of his throat.

Zoro's eyes widened. He chuckled, breathless.

"Still as sharp as ever."

Then he grinned, wiping sweat from his brow. "Kuina… will you train with me again?"

"I want to push even farther."

All his life, Zoro had said he'd never lose again. But Kuina had always been the exception.

His eternal rival.

"Of course," Kuina replied. "Let's sharpen each other like before."

Then, a high-pitched voice rang out:

"Tch! So you're leaving just like that? Not even gonna say goodbye to me properly?"

Zoro froze.

"...Perona?"

Standing at the rail of the Ship of God was a woman with bright hair, parasol twirling lazily above her head—and a face full of judgment.

Zoro's shoulders slumped.

"Why are you here?…"

Perona had grown—taller, sharper, more confident—but still had that same intense presence that made Zoro sweat bullets.

To the crew, it looked like Zoro had just been caught red-handed by a jealous girlfriend.

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