Onepiece: I'm Gojo Satoru

As Cullom steadied herself, the dizziness from Satoru's instantaneous teleportation faded. The once-open sea was now replaced with firm ground.

"We're here," Satoru said calmly, releasing Cullom's shoulder.

Before she could ask where they were, Cullom froze as an immense sword intent surged through the air. It was as if two colossal forces were clashing nearby.

"Sir, what is this?" Cullom asked, her voice tinged with awe.

"It's a duel between two great swordsmen," Satoru replied casually. "I thought this might help you improve, so I brought you here to watch."

Cullom's expression turned from awe to excitement. "Thank you, sir!"

The prospect of witnessing such a battle was exhilarating. As a swordsman, Cullom dreamed of moments like these. Regardless of whether she could learn something from it, watching the duel alone was a priceless opportunity.

Then, her gaze landed on one of the duelists. "Is that... the world's greatest swordsman? Hawkeye Mihawk?"

Satoru gave a slight nod. "Yes."

Cullom stared in disbelief. As a swordsman, Mihawk was her ultimate goal—a figure revered and feared across the seas. However, her excitement was cut short by Satoru's warning.

"Calm down," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I don't want you getting ideas and rushing into something suicidal. Understand the gap in your abilities first."

Cullom sighed, nodding. "Don't worry, sir. I know my limits. Mihawk is someone I can't even hope to challenge now."

Her tone carried a hint of melancholy, but Satoru's eyes remained focused on the other duelist.

"And the person facing Mihawk?" Cullom asked, turning her attention to the second swordsman.

"Do you know him?" Satoru asked curiously.

"Yes," Cullom answered with a serious expression. "That's Sophilar, a swordsman who was famous two decades ago. No one knows where he came from, but he made a name for himself by defeating numerous sword masters across the seas. At one point, everyone thought he would claim the title of the world's greatest swordsman. But he vanished, and then Mihawk appeared, taking the throne for himself."

Satoru raised an eyebrow. "So, this guy was once a contender for Mihawk's position?"

"Exactly," Cullom said. "But for some reason, Sophilar disappeared. To see him battling Mihawk now... it's unbelievable."

The duel was fierce, with sword strikes splitting the air and the ground trembling beneath their might. Satoru observed keenly, noting the similarities in their techniques. "Their moves are quite similar," he muttered. "Almost like they share a connection."

Before Cullom could respond, the battle reached its climax. The two swordsmen unleashed their full power, and in a blinding clash of white and black light, the dust settled.

Sophilar collapsed, his body battered and bleeding. Yet, Mihawk had spared his life, delivering only a decisive but non-fatal blow.

"Mihawk showed mercy," Satoru said. "It seems there's more to their relationship than meets the eye."

Cullom, who had watched the duel intently, clenched her fists. Her admiration for the world's greatest swordsman grew tenfold. "What an incredible battle," she murmured. "I have so much more to learn."

But the moment of awe was interrupted by a sudden roar of dark green sword energy. A massive slash cut through the air, heading directly toward Satoru and Cullom.

Startled, Cullom froze as the devastating sword intent bore down on them. It was unlike anything she had ever felt—a raw, cutting pressure that left her breathless.

Without hesitation, Satoru stepped forward. "Don't get too excited, Hawkeye," he said, raising a hand.

With a single motion, the sword energy halted in its tracks, suspended in the air like a painting.

"Scatter," Satoru commanded. The sword energy dissipated instantly, leaving nothing but calm in its wake.

Hawkeye Mihawk's piercing yellow eyes fixed on Satoru, their intensity like that of a predator assessing its prey. Yet, when Mihawk met Satoru's gaze, he felt an unsettling chill—a feeling of being completely exposed, as if every secret of his being had been laid bare.

"Admiral White Dragon," Mihawk said, his tone flat but wary. "What brings you here?"

Satoru gave a faint smile. "Relax, Mihawk. I'm not here to fight. Let's talk."

The greatest swordsman in the world and the Navy's enigmatic admiral stood face to face, a meeting of titans that could shape the seas themselves.