Chapter 144: "Anomalies"

His moving footsteps brushed against the weapons in the night, and the distant clock tower chimed at midnight.

"Monet, hide."

Qiubai placed the bundle he was carrying on the ground. At this moment, he finally understood the underlying meaning behind the swordsman's words earlier.

Is today the Ghost Festival?

Without waiting for further words from Qiubai, Monet also sensed this peculiar atmosphere. Though she had originally intended to fight alongside him, it now seemed that might be unnecessary.

"Understood."

Following these words, Monet's figure vanished from behind Qiubai, and soon the mist began to intermingle with wind and snow.

"So... is this a street where only I exist now?"

Qiubai stood dead center at the crossroads, his Observation Haki extending through the freezing space.

"I didn't expect the new sword to come in handy so soon, though..." With that, he made a grasping motion with his right hand, and a slender longsword with a blue hilt and no guard appeared in his grasp.

Both its weight and curvature made him feel exceptionally comfortable—he simply hadn't anticipated finding a use for it so quickly.

"Found you."

After a careful search, Qiubai finally located the "enemy" hiding in the mist and staring at him... or rather, calling it a "person" might not be entirely accurate.

Some five hundred meters away stood a windmill several stories taller than the surrounding buildings, and on the highest blade of that four-leaf windmill stood a bizarre figure.

"Shall I test the sword on a 'freak'?"

"Right, this gives me an idea for a name perfectly suited to this blade—Heart-Crosser. Concealing the sword within the body, slaying abnormalities, the妖刀 (cursed blade) Heart-Crosser."

Qiubai didn't overthink the current situation. His very first thought was simply that some lunatic resembling Jack the Ripper was hiding in this city. As for any considerations that Doflamingo might have dispatched assassins to hunt him down... truly none, because it simply wasn't to that extent.

He could only chalk this up to bad luck.

And indeed, his deduction was correct; the reactions of the city's residents confirmed it indirectly. Qiubai had indeed run into a "Jack the Ripper" figure, but the one before him was far worse than Jack—this entity was simply engaging in indiscriminate slaughter.

It would slash at anyone it encountered, making it entirely justified to demonize this creature somewhat.

Well, fortune's wheel turns, and Qiubai had finally crossed paths with a lunatic himself.

A night breeze swept by, causing the stationary windmill blades to sway before they began to spin slowly. Taking that movement as a signal, the lunatic crouching up there sprinted directly toward Qiubai.

"A deviant?"

This creature's speed was preposterously fast, and combined with its upper body hugging the ground as it ran, the term "deviant" fell far short of describing it.

Qiubai was not incapable of reaching such speeds, but he could only achieve them by employing specialized swordsmanship techniques. Yet the creature before him seemed merely to be taking a light jog.

Without the assistance of Observation Haki, capturing its movements with the naked eye alone would have been exceedingly difficult. It moved with a light jog that carried the momentum of the Six Powers technique, "Soru."

Almost in the blink of an eye, it closed the distance into Qiubai's attack range.

Yet apart from being absurdly fast, there seemed to be nothing particularly special about it. Qiubai swung a single arm, pointing his longsword straight at the oncoming assailant.

At this speed... won't it just skewer itself on the blade?

Just as this thought crossed Qiubai's mind, the creature executed a slight dodge, brushing closely past the side of Qiubai's blade. At the same time, its left hand wrapped around the sword body like a vine in a fraction of a second, while its right hand slashed directly upward toward Qiubai's armpit.

At this juncture, Qiubai either had to let go of his weapon or allow his right arm to be hacked off... That should have been the outcome; however, a clear disparity in strength existed between the two.

It was the opponent who lost its weapon.

The adversary's single arm proved entirely incapable of constraining Qiubai's sword. Qiubai pressed his right hand downward, parrying the strike before it could hit him, and followed up with a fierce kick straight to the creature's chest.

Assailed by a tremendous surge of force, the creature's body rapidly retreated, and the longsword slipped from its grasp.

The drooping tip of the blade gently pierced the ground. As Qiubai withdrew his leg, he planted his foot squarely onto the hilt of the sword, driving the entire blade—save for the hilt—deep into the stone-paved street.

The sword was of decent quality; at the very least, it hadn't snapped under Qiubai's stomp.

Fresh blood streamed down the opponent's arm, yet as if completely devoid of the sensation of pain, it hoisted itself back up. It first glanced at the sword hilt pinned beneath Qiubai's foot, and then slowly raised its head.

"My apologies, but I'm actually a powerhouse type, kid, you've got the wrong—what the hell!" Before Qiubai could finish, the face of his opponent struck him with utter shock.

Long blonde hair whipped wildly in the wind, its eyes narrowed to mere slits, and its widely stretched mouth pulled back in a grin that reached almost to the back of its head.

Judging by its build, the person appeared to be no more than thirteen or fourteen years old, but that face... ugh.

Wait... why did it look so familiar? In an instant, Qiubai recalled where he had heard the name of the Kingdom of Rommel:

"The Kamaitachi of Rommel."

Could this person before him be the legendary Hakuba?

"If it's the yellow-haired Cavendish, I'd much rather have Diana Cavendish wearing a witch's hat appear before me than you."

That face was truly soul-stirring... Hm? Soul-stirring?

Qiubai suddenly conceived a brilliant idea.

Having missed its initial strike, the bizarre face opposite Qiubai began looking around incessantly. It grew somewhat agitated, seemingly unable to immediately decide whether to press the attack or make a rapid retreat.

"Monet... can you turn him into a frozen specimen?" Qiubai asked, looking up.

"Trap him? I can try."

Monet's response echoed from the hollow night sky, and immediately, an impenetrable blizzard began to swirl around Hakuba, wrapping him tightly inside a massive snowball within moments.

Seemed a bit too easy?

First off, a swordsman without a sword loses his offensive edge. Not everyone possessed the ability of that lost green-haired idiot to just throw punches directly.

Secondly, he was simply too young.

Qiubai couldn't help but shake his head. At this age, playing in the dirt at home would be far better; why run out looking for thrills?

Perhaps this was during the period when the legend of the Kamaitachi was just beginning to rise, and he hadn't yet grown as formidable as he would later become... If this was meant to be a "trial," it was vastly overhyped.

Once the giant dumpling was wrapped, Monet's figure reappeared.

"He won't freeze to death, will he?"

Qiubai asked Monet while pulling his longsword out of the flagstones.

"Of course not, he's still quite lively."

Though no external changes were visible, the target was still struggling furiously inside that snowball... Monet only possessed the powers of the Snow-Snow Fruit, not the Ice-Ice Fruit; freezing someone to death directly was not that simple.

"What now?" Monet still hadn't figured out Qiubai's intentions.

"Anyway... let's haul him back first."

As for what purpose he had in capturing such a "monster," Qiubai stated...

Naturally, it was for scaring people.