He flicked the page over, his eyes landing on another headline: "Revolutionary Army Gains More Ground in Vera, Proves a Threat to World Government."
Blizz let out a quiet, almost bored chuckle. "Yeah, that too. Dragon's keeping a low profile, but we all know what's coming."
His fingers tapped the side of his coffee cup as he thought about the Revolutionary Army. Dragon, the leader who didn't rush, who played his cards in the shadows. Their goal of overthrowing the World Government was no secret.
"They're really pushing hard, huh? But Dragon's not the kind of guy to act hastily. He'll keep playing his long game until it's time to strike. The World Government's definitely in for a hell of a ride when he decides it's time for the revolution to kick off in full swing."
Blizz took another sip of his coffee, barely registering the taste. He wasn't in the mood for caffeine—he was just killing time, watching the world unfold as it was always meant to. He knew the endgame for Blackbeard. He knew the outcome of the Revolutionary Army's war against the World Government. The question for him wasn't what would happen—it was how everything would unfold, and where he fit into it all.
He tapped his fingers on the table, mulling it over. "Guess I'll just have to keep my eye on the ball. Who knows when things are going to get interesting for me? But one thing's for sure: with guys like Blackbeard and Dragon shaking up the world, there's no way I'll be sitting on the sidelines."
Blizz stretched in his chair, letting out a soft yawn. The coffee was doing its job of keeping him awake, but his mind was wandering. He had a lot to think about, but for now, the news was enough to occupy him. His eyes flickered over to the window, where the sunlight cast a warm glow on the streets of the town.
"Maybe it's time for a break," he muttered to himself. After all, he'd been cooped up in his apartment for days, trying to train and make progress. But between the mess and the strange water-filled crate situation, he was starting to feel like he needed a change of scenery.
Blizz stuffed the newspaper into his bag and stood up. He pulled on his jacket, smoothing it out as he exited the coffee shop. The cool air hit his face, and for a brief moment, he felt like he could breathe again—free from the clutter of his room and the mental fog of training.
He didn't have much of a destination in mind, but a few blocks down, he spotted a small park. It was a quiet area with a few benches under large oak trees, a perfect spot for unwinding.
Taking a seat on one of the benches, Blizz leaned back, letting the sounds of the city wash over him. His thoughts shifted to his training, the challenges he'd faced with the water walking jutsu, and how much progress he'd made. The crate of water in his room was practically a temporary pool at this point. He'd have to clean that mess up soon—there was just too much water now. Maybe he should look for a better place to train, somewhere outside his tiny apartment.
"Next time, I'll go for something less…wet," he mused, a slight grin creeping up on his face as he remembered the chaos he'd caused earlier.
It wasn't just the water that made him think—he had other goals on his mind. Clothes. Custom clothes. His current outfit wasn't cutting it anymore. It wasn't practical for the kind of lifestyle he was trying to build. A ninja's attire, something that could fit his style, but also function well during a fight. He'd need a good tailor… but he'd need the money for it first.
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe I'll check out a few shops later."
Blizz sighed as he walked through the busy streets, lost in thought. His mind kept wandering back to the topic of his new outfit. He couldn't help but feel like his current clothes weren't fitting for the kind of work he was trying to do. He needed something practical. A ninja outfit. Something light, but durable. A few pieces that could hold up in a fight, but also give him some freedom to move around.
He could already picture it—a tight-fitting black shirt, lightweight pants with a utility belt, and of course, a long jacket that would hide his weapons and tools. But he wasn't sure where to find something like that in a city like this. He wasn't exactly in the mood for some overpriced tailor, but then again, he knew he'd have to get it right the first time.
Blizz spotted a clothes store nearby, its door slightly ajar. It was a small place, the kind that seemed to be tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the main shopping streets. Without thinking twice, he stepped inside. The smell of fresh fabric and the faint hum of music greeted him as he looked around at the rows of clothing.
The store wasn't very large, but it had a certain charm. A few racks of casual wear, some more formal pieces in the back, and even a small corner that seemed to have military-like gear—exactly what Blizz needed.
He walked toward the racks, inspecting the clothes. There were black jackets, cargo pants, and other practical-looking pieces. After a few minutes of scanning the options, Blizz picked out a few items that looked promising. A black jacket with multiple pockets, tight-fitting cargo pants, and a pair of gloves that could be useful in battle. He grabbed a few more things, including a pair of boots and a headband. This was starting to feel right.
Blizz walked up to the counter to pay, and the store clerk, a middle-aged man with glasses, gave him an inquisitive look.
"Looking for something a bit… tactical?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Blizz chuckled. "Yeah, something like that."
The clerk nodded. "That'll be 350 beli for everything."
Blizz handed over the money, glad he still had enough from his last few jobs. As the man wrapped up his purchase, Blizz slipped the bag over his shoulder and stepped back out into the street. He put everything in the storage scroll and put it back in his pocket
Blizz glanced down at the small, folded storage scroll he had tucked into his pocket. It felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He'd finally succeeded.
Three days ago, after hours of trial and error, he had managed to create his very first storage scroll. It had taken him several attempts, and a lot of patience, but now he had a working model. He could hardly believe it. The scroll was small enough to fit in his hand, but it held more than it seemed to at first glance. A quick mental count told him it could hold up to 50 pounds of items at a time—a decent amount for carrying around extra tools, food, or anything he might need on his travels.
He had experimented with the scroll just after he'd finished it, storing a few weapons first—throwing knives, shurikens, and a few kunai. Of which They were made costume for him they vanished into the scroll without a trace. He smiled to himself as he recalled that first successful moment. It had felt like magic. But now, he was growing more comfortable with it. The only thing left was perfecting how much he could carry in one go.
As he walked out of clothing store, he absentmindedly slipped his fingers over the storage scroll in his pocket. He was already thinking of what else he could store in it—extra clothes, maybe a few tools for training. It was a great addition to his growing arsenal, and a very practical one.
His mind wandered back to the day he had finally succeeded. He had been so determined to make it work, and now he felt like he could take on anything. Of course, now that he had the storage scroll, it felt like he had a little more flexibility in his day-to-day life. He wasn't confined by just the pockets of his pants or the space in his apartment. Everything he needed could now be carried with him in a small, unassuming scroll.
"Feels good," he muttered to himself, tapping the scroll lightly. "I'm finally getting the hang of this ninja stuff."
stretching slightly as he walked down the street. The town was lively as always, with merchants calling out to potential customers, sailors drinking in the midday sun, and marines patrolling the area. He wasn't in a rush to go anywhere, just taking in the atmosphere.
Then, he heard a commotion coming from a nearby sword shop.
A loud, frustrated voice rang out from inside. "What do you mean you don't respect swords?"
Blizz raised an eyebrow. He recognized that voice immediately. He stepped closer to the shop, peeking inside.
There, standing in front of the counter, was Roronoa Zoro, his arms crossed as he stared at the woman in front of him—Tashigi, a marine swordswoman. She looked just as she did in the anime, her glasses slightly slipping down her nose as she glared up at him.
. It was surreal seeing them in person—Zoro, the right-hand man of the future Pirate King, and Tashigi, the marine who bore such a striking resemblance to Kuina. They were already butting heads, just like in the anime.
"I'm saying that swords aren't just objects to be collected! A swordsman should respect the blade!" she snapped.
"I do respect them," Zoro replied bluntly. "But I don't go around treating them like sacred relics. A sword is a tool. It's meant to be used."
Blizz smirked. Ah, this scene… It's happening just like in the story.
Tashigi huffed, pushing up her glasses. "A real swordsman wouldn't say that! Do you even understand the history behind these blades?"
Zoro sighed, clearly getting annoyed. "I don't need history. I just need a sword that won't break when I swing it."
Blizz watched as Tashigi grabbed a blade from the shop's collection, showing it off with admiration. The way she spoke about swords was almost poetic—her passion for them was undeniable. But Zoro remained unimpressed, more interested in finding a practical replacement for his broken weapon.
Blizz chuckled under his breath. This is getting interesting.
He leaned against the doorframe, debating whether to step in or just enjoy the show.
I just don't see the point in making a big deal about it."
Zoro sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Look, I just need a sword. I don't have time for a lecture."
Tashigi crossed her arms, unimpressed. "A true swordsman should know the history of his blade! Not just pick up any sword without knowing its worth."
Blizz chuckled to himself. "Man, she's really giving him a hard time."
Then, it hit him—this was the moment. This was when Zoro would get Sandai Kitetsu, the cursed blade. Blizz watched intently as the shopkeeper hesitated before presenting Zoro with a choice of swords.
Zoro picked up Kitetsu and immediately felt its weight in his hands.
"This one's nice," he muttered.
Tashigi's eyes widened. "That's a cursed blade! You can't just—"
Before she could finish, Zoro smirked and tossed the sword into the air.
Blizz already knew what was coming.
The blade spun downward, and Zoro calmly extended his arm, letting the sword decide his fate. A tense silence filled the shop as the blade hurtled toward his arm.
Then—
Swish!
The sword narrowly missed, slicing through the air and embedding itself into the wooden floor.
The shopkeeper gawked in shock. "I-I can't believe it! The sword accepted him!"
Zoro smirked, picking up Kitetsu. "Guess it's mine now."
Blizz couldn't help but grin. Classic Zoro moment.
As the conversation wrapped up, he debated whether to step in. He wasn't supposed to be part of this story, but… maybe it wouldn't hurt to introduce himself.
After all, he was going to need strong allies sooner or later.