Slade Coburn was leaned back his his chair, boots crossed on another chair, white cowboy hat tipped down over his eyes. He was napping. Streling 'Sidewinder' reached for one of the big Mateba revolvers on each hip. Before she cleared leather, he had whipped one of the two katanas he wore out of its sheath and had it pointed at her chest in a single fluid motion.

He pushed up a corner of his hat and gazed at her from one half-closed eye. "I keep telling y'all, that won't work on me."

It was true, a running game among the CP6 members had been to try to surprise Slade or catch him off guard. So far no one had succeeded. Even in a straight up speed draw, the 68-year-old was just about the fastest in the group, which said a lot, considering Sidewinder had a reputation as the fastest gun in the West Blue. But sword to gun, they had tested it time and again, each standing beside a wooden pole target opposite the other. At 20 paces, Slade's rankyaku sword slash beat Volkan's slingshot, Rakic's boomerangs, and Quake's fastest draw. He and Sidewinder's Haki-infused bullets reached the target within milliseconds if each other. Some days she won, some days he won.

The legendary Slade had been semi-retired when Quake recruited him, teaching young Cipher Pol trainees to integrate their Rokushiki with swordsmanship. The reason he let the young CP6 leader talk him into returning to field work was simple: he was bored.

Quake was in the anteroom, pacing, awaiting the arrival of the bounty hunters. Their young leader hadn't, reflected Slade, fully learned the art of resting in the midst of chaos. It was an art Slade knew well. Resting was meditation, allowing for an empty mind and relaxed blade once there was a need for it. A tense person was a slow person. Everyone had their own rituals, of course. Rakic was practicing throwing his boomerangs out back. He would spin and throw three, all at different trajectories, then use Soru to dart and catch all three. Volkan was tinkering with his slingshot. DC was in the back room, shades drawn, legs crossed in his meditative trance. He could be anywhere within 1,000 miles, but probably was watching the bounty hunters, as he had been for the past two weeks.

"They are here." Quake strode into the room. "Let's greet them."

Sidewinder slapped her revolver cylinder closed and re-holstered it. Volkan appeared, adjusting his oversized trench coat with long arms awkwardly. Rakic, barechested as usual, muscles glistening, caught his last three boomerangs and entered the room. Slade pushed his hat back, boots slapping the floor as he stood. DC slipped silently into the room. One by one they emerged from the front door.

Down the dirt road, the setting sun behind them, came the four bounty hunters. The townsfolk, and even the Marines, moved well out of their way. Mads Shatterslash was flanked by a man-sized weasel wearing a sword on one side, and on the other a carefree man with little wings on his back and an ugly-looking Fishman with spikes on his forearms and big google eyes. They cast long shadows in the gloaming that seemed to enhance their aura of menace. CP6 knew a great deal about them. They were the most feared pirate hunters on the Grand Line, and for good reason. All of them were monsters, and they functioned well as a tightly knit team. Mads and Lobo were Devil Fruit users, Mads a Paramecia, and Lobo, despite his carefree attitude, a Mythical Zoan user, one of the rarest powers on the sea. His Devil Fruit had, in fact, not been seen in hundreds of years- DC had consulted classified World Government records to find its history. Vison, the Mink, and Sully the Fishman were not Devil Fruit users; as if to counterbalance the weakness of the power holders, were as comfortable underwater as above it. All of them were natural hunters, as comfortable at night as during the day, and all could sense and wield electricity in some fashion. Sully had the best mind for planning ambushes and traps, Lobo loved to tinker and experiment with uses for his electric powers, Mads could provide all the crew with mobility and excelled at coordination on the fly. And Vison… Vison was who had piqued Slade's interest. He wielded a long blade, a bit wider and thicker than a traditional rapier, so he could slash as well as stab, with both a cross guard and swirling knuckle guard, and a long dagger. DC, observing him in battle, claimed it had been a long time since he had seen a swordsman that moved like Vison. Slade's fingers twitched on his sword handles wondering just how fast the kid could be to impress DC.

The members of CP6 stood arrayed to meet them. Quake, Slade, Sidewinder, Rakic, Volkan, and DC. They were the most formidable and versatile lineup in CP6 history, by far. In addition to master of the Six Powers of Rokushiki, each was a expert with a weapon of some kind.

The four pirate hunters stopped at the entrance. Mads yanked a chain. Behind him, initially hidden by his bulky silhouette, were the three prisoners. He flung them forward, tumbling to the ground in front of CP6.

"Here are your prisoners, World Government."

Quake grinned. "Rakic, Volkan, take them. Mads, why don't you and your group come inside, and we will give you your payment and discuss my offer."

Mads considered for a moment. He glanced at Lobo, who shrugged. He turned back to Quake and nodded. Volkan and Rakic grabbed the prisoners and hauled them into a back room, chaining them to the wall. As every pirate was all Devil Fruit users, the Seastone chains made them barely able to stand, let alone resist.

The four pirate hunters sat down at one end of a long table, with CP6 gathered at the other.

"I'll get right down to brass tacks, Mads. I've got an offer for you." Quake paused for effect. "The threat of pirates has risen in the past year, ever since that scum Gol D Roger uttered that nonsense about hiding his treasure on some fictional island at the end of the Grand Line. Business has been booming for you."

Mads said nothing. Quake continued.

"Here's our offer. It's very simple. Keep doing exactly what you are doing now, but we will give you World Government immunity. The Navy will not be able to label you a pirate; you will be considered a World Government authorized privateer. We know how precarious your situation is, currently. The Navy doesn't like powerful rivals on the seas. It's amazing you have been able to continue this long without incurring their ire. But we in the World Government recognize that you are doing a service to law-abiding folk." This was carefully calculated. Being a bounty hunter was a thankless task. Quake was very good at seeing what a man wanted- respect, recognition, a listening ear. It made him a good salesman.

"Truth is, Mads, we wish there were more like you. There are plenty of pirates who would become pirate hunters if given the chance. That's ultimately what we want to do. You, as someone who has remained on the right side of the law, just happen to be a perfect proof of concept. Giving you immunity changes nothing from the World Government's perspective."

Riddell paused. "There is really just one catch. In order to sell the powers that be on this idea, we need to convince them that someone like you, who is not a pirate, but who also has never worked under a chain of command, can be a reliable partner. In other words, I need you to prove you can work with us when we need you to, and that you are strong enough to make a difference in this sea of monsters."

"Now, that doesn't mean we need you to do our bidding at all times. As I said, ultimately we want you to keep doing what you are doing. But we need you to do two things: one, work with us" -here Quake spread his hands to indicate his fellow CP6 members- "and two, eliminate a target of the World Government's choosing. Just once, mind you. After that, you are free to live as you please. And that, Mads, is my offer."

Slade studied the Sabertooth's face as Quake spoke. There was skepticism there, but not open scorn. At length Mads spoke.

"I'm sorry, Riddell. I can't take your offer."

Riddell's grin widened. "May I ask why not?"

"No."

"Of my offer to you, let me assure you: it is guaranteed. Whether I can convert pirates to privateers, that depends. I am fully authorized to make this offer to you, however. How well it works with you will decide whether I can continue this program. So you see," Quake smiled broadly "I need you as much as you need me. No isn't an option, Mads."

"It seems to me that you need us more than we need you." It was Vison who spoke.

The creases around Riddell's grin were like canyons. "You aren't the only strong bounty hunters in the world, swordsman. However, as you say. I am very motivated to make this a success. As to your target: the first one is simple: Redd the Ripper and the giant Sanjuan Wolf, the two most notable pirates of a crew currently wreaking havoc in the West Blue. We will work together with you to bring them down."

"No, we won't. I already told you, I'm not interested in your offer."

Quake's grin was wider than the sea itself. "And I told you, no isn't an option."

Slade could sense the tension rise immediately. Lobo spoke up.

"Let's not get testy, now folks. We've got a beautiful lady present." He was smiling at Sidewinder, practically beaming hearts from his eyes. Sidewinder stared coldly at him.

"Ignore him, ma'am." Vison spoke up. "My colleague is too boorish to consider you are a professional, dangerous woman."

Streling smiled at him and Lobo scowled. "Stop stealing my thunder, you weasel! She doesn't want your flattery!"

Rakic threw back his head and laughed, a deep booming laugh that cut the tension. His voice was heavily accented. "You boys are funny."

CLANG!! Vison's rapier clashed with Slade's katana across the table.

"Let's fight, Slade." Vison dropped those words into the hollow before the metal clash had reverberated fully through the room. "No need for all of us to kill each other here. You and I will duel. If you win, we join your little project. If I win. we walk away as if this conversation never happened."

What had just happened was extraordinary. In a room full of advanced Haki users, all of whom could sense intent, Vison had drawn his sword and swung it at Slade before anyone could react to stop him. That meant he had acted on his intent the very moment he had it. There had been no premeditation. This was the fifth principle of the Eightfold Swordsman's Creed- it was worded in various ways by various schools, but it basically stated "I am become one with my sword", which implied 'action becomes one with awareness'. One did not think about an action, then decide to do it. There was no think, only do.

That was not to say the rest of the room had no reaction. On the contrary, Sidewinder and Quake had revolvers drawn, Sully's eyes were sparking with electricity and Lobo's arm was covered in blue lightning. All of them were ready, on a word, to kill. Only DC and the Sabertooth had remained absolutely still. Mads now reached out and put a heavy hand on Vison's shoulder.

"My swordsman is too impulsive. But he has a point. If we fight here, Quake, we might as well declare ourselves pirates, and you might as well be dead."

Quake leaned back in his chair slightly, the Haki still humming around his fist. He looked at Slade, then looked at Vison, then back at Slade, debating whether to gamble his future on Slade's ability to beat another notorious swordsman.

Slade spoke up. "It's alright. Let me entertain this young pup. It's been a minute since a swordsman challenged me to a duel." He could sense the Mink's Electro through the crossed blades, and felt his own pulse quicken. A feeling he had missed, the thrill of anticipation, rose in his stomach. He could see the sheer exuberance in Vison's eyes. Here was someone who lived for combat.

Warily, CP6 put down their guns. Everyone filed outside and Slade and Vison took up positions in a field of dandelions. Slade drew both his blades, Ringil and Coldstar. He spun them in the light of the setting sun. Vison slashed Malgré in a low sweep, severing six dandelion heads. He faced Coburn, each taking their stance. Coburn's katanas were crossed in front of him like an X. Vison's long blade was held in front of him, with his dagger by his jawline.

"I've wanted to meet you for a long time, Slade."

"Oh? Consider yourself well met."

Vison closed the space between them like a shot. His body uncoiled like a leafspring, driving his rapier towards Slade's face.

I know what I must do

Slade brought Ringil up, parrying the thrust across Vison's body. Now he was outside Vison's shoulders. In the same motion, he swung Coldstar across himself, aiming at Vison's exposed head.

I am fully present in this moment

Slade executed the counter perfectly, but Vison's head was no longer there. At the last moment he leaned back, avoiding the slash by inches. He leapt back, out of range.

This is exactly difficult enough

Slade and Vison regarded each other across a gap far wider than most swordsmen would have been comfortable with. He's fast, thought Slade. Very fast.

"It's been a while since someone blocked my thrust." commented Vison

"It's been a while since someone avoided my counter." Rejoined Slade

Control without controlling

For fun, Slade swung his blades down in opposing diagonal arcs, cutting the air and sending an X-shaped slash through the air at Vison. The Mink vanished from its path, reappearing six feet to one side, and launched another thrust at Slade.

Effortless effort

Slade parried again, deflecting upward with Coldstar this time. He stepped in as he blocked with Ringil, aiming to stab Vison in the stomach. Vison blocked the attack with his dagger. Slade swept Vison, pushing one way with his blades and the other with his foot. The Mink dropped and rolled backwards. Slade raised his blades and brought them down, and Vison, rolling to his feet, had no choice but to block him head on this time instead of dodging.

Timeless time

The instant their blades clashed felt like an eternity compressed into a moment. That was how good swordplay was. When life was on the line, it was as if time itself lost its inexorable cadence. Slade felt his Haki, his willpower, with that of Vison, projected into their respective swords, striving against the other.

My consciousness is become my sword

Vison, at a mechanical disadvantage, was blown backwards by the force of Slade's blow, his claws tearing up grass and dandelions as he slid. He looked at Slade then, and Slade felt the piercing gaze of a rival hunter, a rival killer, and he stared back, unblinking. Then Vison exploded in a series of attacks, and Coburn found himself in the eye of a storm of swordplay.

The fight is its own reward