Iron Hiro-Shu Fights Invincible Ulysses!

A Heavy Handed Display of Punches!

Hiro-Shu took a deep breath, "Second Stage! Golem Guard!" The iron armor he was wearing moved all over his body until it safely encased his chest, stomach, arms, and legs. The armor on his head shifted to form a small iron helmet. He was now wearing armor similar to that of the ancient gladiators.

"Fists of Iron! Iguko's Hammer!" Hiro-Shu grasped both of his hands together and swung upwards with frightening power and speed. He felt his arms connect with the man's chin and lift him high off of the ground. Ulysses was thrown into the air and landed safely onto the ground. Hiro-Shu chuckled. There is no way he could survive that blow…at least without a broken jaw.

Ulysses stood back up without a problem. His jaw didn't even have a bruise on it not even one of those comedic bumps on it. He smiled. "That was certainly riveting. I thought I might die. Let me return the favor!" He charged at Hiro-Shu, the gems on his gauntlet pulling off a spectacular light show, "Demolishing Diamond!" His entire body shuddered as the punch hammered straight into Hiro-Shu's body and forced him back.

Hiro-Shu felt the cold water lap the backs of his feet. He wished he had more room to maneuver…he also wished his opponent could feel pain, but wishing wasn't doing him any good right now. If pain wasn't working or for that matter brute force, he'd have to try a different approach.

"Forger's Fire! Iguko's Flame!" Hiro-Shu leaned back and inhaled a lot of air. He then let loose a tremendous blast of fire towards Ulysses. He only had enough time to bring his arms up and block the some of the flames, but he was devoured in the brilliant blasé of red and yellow nonetheless.

Hiro-Shu stopped and caught his breath. He looked up and waited for the smoke to clear. If that didn't stop Ulysses he would be out of techniques that might be able to stop him. Darn it, was the only thing that came to mind as Ulysses stepped out of the fire without a single burn mark on him.

"I wasn't expecting you to be able to do that," said Ulysses, "I am quite amazed at it. Now do you have any other attacks I need to catalogue or will that be it?"

Hiro-Shu was starting to worry. He could always step it up one more stage…no, he couldn't. Iguko had full reign in that state and Iguko would smash anything in sight. If he accidentally sent the ship to the bottom of the sea, Mikoto would easily drown. Not to mention Sage if she was also on the boat. Still he was running out of options.

"No?" asked Ulysses again, "well, then I'd guess this will be it then, won't it?" He sighed as if he was very depressed, "I wasn't really hoping to get wounded in battle at least once. Let's finish this fight where I can find a real opponent? Stone Smasher!" He unleashed an uppercut straight up and into Hiro-Shu's chin and sent Hiro-Shu reeling. Hiro-Shu felt nearly the full impact straight into his jaw and he could still feel it. It was a lingering and throbbing pain. Hiro-Shu turned to the side and coughed, blood spilled from his mouth.

"Looks like I'm going to be the next one to see David…if I make it out of here alive," said Hiro-Shu. He could just see the maniacal smile of the brat as he dug his scalpel into his body. That's a very good reason to die, he saw what he did to Enma…maybe David would take it easier on him? Corra said something about being a doctor, didn't she? Maybe she'd take good care of him. The thought of a girl who scurried away at a mere shout treating broken bones and fractured rib cages didn't fill him up with that much confidence either.

He tightened his grip and managed to stand up once again. This form gave him increased defense wherever his iron armor was, but not all of his body was covered in iron armor. If it was he would lose basically all of his mobility and it would a very small feat to just push him into the water. As such his joints (elbows, knees, shoulders, etc) and anything that would need to move a lot such as his mouth and hands were kept either uncovered or with paper thin iron protecting them. His chin as a result was a weak spot in this form.

Hiro-Shu braced himself for a second Iguko's Flame as it at least has some impact on him, why else would he have blocked the strike? Hiro-Shu let loose a second torrent flames at Ulysses. To which the later paid it no mind and continued to approach Hiro-Shu. The flames danced eagerly around him as well as on him, but they didn't have the effect that Hiro-Shu was hoping for. Ulysses pulled both of his arms back until his hands rested at his sides. "Bejeweled Bash!" He unleashed both punches at the same time with both of them nailing Hiro-Shu simultaneously. Hiro-Shu wrenched back in pain and used his hands to immediately cover up the wounded areas. It seemed like he was the only one getting hurt in this fight.

"Fist of Iron! Golem's Fury!" Hiro-Shu fired his punch straight at the man. The sturdy iron slammed into him forcing him back a few feet. Ulysses' hand scrambled to the area to find a big black bruise occupying the area. He touched it gingerly at first, then he covered it up completely.

It took him a few seconds to recover from the blow and the fact he was wounded so heavily. As soon as he did, however, he immediately glared at Hiro-Shu, "you've been holding out on me? That punch had to have twice the impact as the previous ones…if you would've used that strength from the get go you may have broken my ribs." He paused for a few seconds to completely regain his composure, "I want more." Ulysses backhanded Hiro-Shu making sure only the diamonds made contact with Hiro-Shu's cheek. Hiro-Shu stumbled back, but he still managed to hold his ground for the most part.

"You dared to disrespect me?" said Ulysses, "you dared to hit me with only half your strength! OR was it only a third? I challenged you with all more power being used, yet, you hold back on me! Have you no honor!" Ulysses busted straight into Hiro-Shu landing explosive punch after punch. Ulysses was probably only one half as strong as Hiro-Shu was and his punches were having little to no result on the iron gladiator, but after a couple hundred of them Hiro-Shu was starting to feel the pain. His armor was probably cracking from the repetitive blows.

"Forger's Fire! Shiba's Knuckles!" commanded Hiro-Shu. He breathed fire straight out of his mouth and onto his hands. He launched his iron hard and blazing fist straight at Ulysses and he felt it connect. He saw Ulysses reel back as he delivered a second punch straight upwards. One more punch sent Ulysses flying back and into a nearby ship breaking a hole into its side. It wasn't the Pimp's ship so Mikoto was still safe, but the same couldn't be said for Ulysses who was probably black, blue, and burnt from his punches, not to mention drowning at this very second. Hiro-Shu wanted to jump in after him and haul him up, but he would drown right after him. Not a good idea, he turned to go back up when someone started to say something.

"Leaving before our fight is finished?" said Ulysses as he hauled himself onto the land. He was still smiling even through his bruised face. "I still haven't repaid your last favor." Hiro-Shu grumbled something intelligible, the fight wasn't over with yet.

(-With Zesiro-)

Zesiro's eyes remained locked on the cut piece of fabric, but the untouched area of skin. Zesiro took in a deep breath, he must be hallucinating from the large amount of alcohol after all the air was very heavy with it. Enma who was still in half-dead sedated state could probably smell it. Zesiro opened his eyes only to be met with reality, the wound was gone. By some miracle his wound had healed itself…what could of done that?

He had to stop searching for his answer as Ovid had started another attack, he shuffled towards Zesiro with his blade high in the air swinging. Alcohol splattered from it and onto the ground. As Zesiro blocked the blade he noticed it was still covered with alcohol. How? He was spinning it and he had to have splattered at least half gallon onto the ground and the rest of it was in the air. He hadn't dunked it back into his bottle for twenty minutes.

His blade had somehow been refilling his alcohol supply without any conscious thought from its wielder. No, that wasn't it. Zesiro blocked another onslaught of slices as he barely brought his blades up to protect himself. Ovid may be drunk, but he has retained something. His swordsmanship. The man knew exactly how to press Zesiro's weak points and he capitalized on those. It wasn't instincts nor was it muscle memory, neither of those two would adapt at the speed Ovid was and be 100% accurate with every adaptation.

Zesiro shoved away a sweeping blow from Ovid and knocked it to the side. Ovid took this opportunity to lunge with his blade extended and made a clear and malicious attempt at Zesiro's heart. Zesiro fell to the ground to avoid the blow and lifted his blades to block the inevitable downwards slash Ovid would make. Ovid brought his sword straight down as Zesiro predicted and the loud clash of metal against metal could be heard.

Zesiro rolled to his side and stood up and took his opponent in once more. His uneven footsteps and the awkward way he held his blade all added up to one single thing, the man was drunk. But if you added that in to his mastery of his sword, he had to be sober and pretending to be drunk. Or maybe he was something in between? Not quite drunk, but facing the first steps of drunkenness. He blocked another slash. No. The first thing that made Zesiro take in the man's state was his blade. Zesiro had to focus on the blade not on the wielder. How was it still getting this constant and the nonstop surge of alcohol? And more importantly how could he stop it? Zesiro focused intently on the blade. Maybe its center was hollow and held alcohol?

Zesiro charged at Ovid and made a rapid cut with his left and a direct lunge with his right. Ovid twisted his blade in a circular pattern pushing both of Zesiro's blades away in opposite directions. Ovid leaned in and delivered a direct cut straight from the left side of Zesiro's stomach all the way up to his right shoulder. He stumbled back, but the wound wasn't what was making Zesiro upset. He was wrong. He could tell by the way the blades collided how dense his opponent's blade was. It was too dense to have a hollow center. That struck out his only guess.

His eyes trained at the handle next. The tip was too thin to have anything special going on with it, and he just ruled the blade out, so the handle was the only option. No…not the handle. The hand was what kept the blade alcohol infused. The hand was morphed into a light liquid, almost transparent and the liquid flowed all the way up and around the blade. This man was made of alcohol.

"You ate a Devil Fruit?" inquired Zesiro having trouble just breathing at this point from his numerous wounds.

"Whut makes you say dat?" asked Ovid in his usual drunken manner. He put his sword down and his hand returned to its regular flesh form.

"Your hand was made of alcohol," said Zesiro. The pieces started to slide together the more Zesiro thought about it. The fact that the man had been drunk for such an extended period of time, the way his wound healed over, the nonstop supply of alcohol to his blade…even his coordination with his blade in this state.

"Yu must be drunk!" shouted Ovid, "me hand's not made alcohol!" He lifted his hand up to show Zesiro. He then grabbed his belly, "me stomach…maybe. Me hand, no!"

"Not just any Devil Fruit," said Zesiro ignoring the ramblings of the drunken swordsman, "a logia-type Devil Fruit…one that controls alcohol. A Logia-Type Devil Fruit user can heal their own wounds, like you did. You can also probably increase your own blood alcohol level allowing you to stay drunk for a long period of time, finally you force alcohol up and around your sword to help you fight!"

Ovid smiled. His eyes brightened up and became defogged. His stance straightened up and his awkward, if not plain goofy grip on his sword, became much more professional. "You found out me secret, eh? Yeah, I ate the Sake-Sake no mi. I can create, control, and become alcohol. I can heal me wounds by applying alcohol to them and best of all I can add alcohol straight into me body. Effectively raising my blood alcohol level, however, I can also decrease it any given time as well. So I can be sober," his stance suddenly shifted to his previous immoral and embarrassing state he was a few minutes ago, "or me can *hic* be drunk!"

From Bad to Worse!

The Doctor's make a House Call!

Hello, gracious readers! You are all probably wondering what this chapter is doing up so early, right? Yeah, I'm right. I'm always right. Well, not only did the snow day put me ahead of schedule (ten inches, yeah, and guess who had to shovel it!), but I also did some math. I want to do two more arcs before the crew enters the Grand Line. At ten chapters an arc (my usual) and a chapter a week. It would take twenty weeks (five months) to get to the Grand Line, if I don't slack off. So, I'm planning on putting this story into fast-forward! I hope to do three chapters every two weeks (but that probably won't happen)! Yeah for you! Also the doctors make a return! I got to give them more screen time, don't I? I want to make this contest the hardest thing for you guys possible! Aren't I evil?