The Loguetown Martial Arts Club was a large, green building whose name had been painted on a yellow sign in red kanji. I wasn't sure how I was suddenly able to read kanji, but I was grateful for it. In a world where they wrote mainly in Japanese, translation would be a necessary skill for me. The club building was at least four stories high, had red overhangs on each floor that reminded me of Arlong Park (that didn't make me feel too good) and had a large double door. Outside these doors, on the white marble steps leading up to the entrance, stood an elegantly dressed man who was shouting about the tournament.
"Hey, there!" I greeted, waving my hand. "My name's Artwaltz D. Yuril. I'm here for the tournament." I climbed up the steps and shook his hand.
"Greetings, contender!" he said. His voice was smooth, like Sanji's, and he seemed like he should be behind a desk in an office, not greeting people who were entering a martial arts tournament. "If you wish to enter, just sign up here!" The man held out a clipboard with a simple sign-up sheet like you might find at a doctor's office. "Please note that only martial arts is allowed. No Devil Fruit users. Weapons are allowed, however."
I frowned. Would my demigod powers break those rules? Probably. I could still use Raising Blue, though. I had been training in swordsmanship under Zoro this past week and now knew the basics of swordplay. I still wasn't very good at it, but I'd be able to hold my own in a fight.
I penned in my name, the date, and the time. I adjusted my leather jacket and stepped through the doors.
"You'll be in the C Block, ma'am," the greeter told me. "That would be on the third floor."
Inside, the building looked like any other martial arts dojo: a square white mat in the center of a wood floor, with opaque windows letting in enough light to see, but not to blind anyone and get in the way of fighting. In the back was a staircase. A sign told me that this was the A Block of the tournament. A crowd of sweaty, gross-smelling people were stuffed in between the walls and the mat, where two men older and heavier than myself were trading punches. I pushed my way through the bystanders and climbed the staircase in the back up to the second floor, which was almost exactly like the first except with less people. Here, the contenders were fighting sword against mace. On the third floor, the mat was empty and a tall, thin man with scraggly, strawberry blond hair was tapping his foot on the mat. There were only a few bystanders here.
I cracked my knuckles and stepped onto the mat.
"You'll be my opponent, then?" the tall man guessed. "The name's Hayden Zangetsu."
"Nice to meet you," I said politely. "Artwaltz D. Yuril."
An old man that reminded me of Cracked-Up Chuck stepped just outside the mat and said, "Contenders, bow to your sensei."
We bowed to him.
"Back three feet away from the mat," the old guy said. Even his voice and accent was like Chuck's. "Get in your fighting stances. Do not hit below the waist line. The one who wins two out of three rounds shall win the match. To win a round, simply land a hit without it getting blocked. Round one, begin."
We leaped action.
Hayden immediately through a lightning-quick punch at my head. I ducked and twisted, flinging out a back kick, the most painful kick in karate. I drove it forward and it would've smashed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him, but he swept his arm down low and to the side, effectively stopping my leg in its tracks. He threw five more punches in rapid succession, followed by a finger jab. I weaved through all of them and delivered an uppercut to the man's jaw. Luckily, it connected.
"Round one goes to red," the sensei said, motioning to me. I supposed that made me Red. "Get back in your fighting stances. Round two, begin."
The second round lasted a full four minutes before Hayden grabbed my shoulders, placed a foot on my stomach, rolled backward, and let go, flinging me off the mat, where I tumbled, panting, across the cold wood floor.
"Round two to black," announced the old man. "Get in your fighting stances. … Good. Next hit wins. Round three begins."
Panting, we flew into the third round. The ginger and I dodged and lashed out, attempting and failing to score hits. Once, he almost hit me with a knifehand attack, but I arched my back and bended backward, and it passed so close to my head I could feel it blow my bangs back.
Finally, I managed to drive my fist into Hayden's chest. His eyes widened and he was thrown into the back wall.
"Match to red," the sensei said calmly. "Good fight. The next match will be in five minutes."
"That was... not bad..." panted the tall kid. "Good... fight, Yuril..."
I grinned sheepishly and shook his hand again, panting hard in between words. "Not bad... yourself... that was really... tough to win." We bowed to each other, then once more to the sensei and headed for a water fountain, which had been built into the wall. I drew some water out of it and washed it over myself, giving me more energy. Hayden's eyes widened.
"You're a Devil Fruit user?" he gasped.
I shrugged and wiped sweat off my forehead. "Not exactly. It's... an inherited trait."
He didn't seem to buy it, but frowned and said, "Oh."
The next few battles were similar. I'm not gonna go into a lot of detail because it would be too repetitive. I fought one guy with a scimitar and managed to win because I had the shorter blade and stepped in. A match with weapons could be won by disarming your opponent. I also fought this enormous body builder who was really tough and practically broke my arm when he blocked it, but the other times I was too quick. His size worked against him in speed. After every match, I revitalized myself with water from the drinking fountain.
Ten battles later, I found myself one place from the top. I was the champion of the C block and had defeated everyone from the D block, too. If I could beat the next guy, I could win the tournament and be the strongest martial artist in East Blue! By now I had attracted quite a crowd. They wanted to see who this nobody was that could beat up all the big names in Loguetown.
My opponent, the champion of the A and B blocks, was average weight. He had an eye patch covering his right eye and a ring on his left finger. His eyes were purple and his hair was spiky and white. By my estimates, he was in his late thirties or early forties. I frowned thoughtfully. That eye patch was seriously cool.
"That's the champion of last year's tournament," someone in the crowd whispered. "They call him the Snow Leopard. His name's Toshiro Yamamoto. He ate the Cold-Cold Devil Fruit and has the ability to freeze things."
"The kid in the leather jacket's Artwaltz D. Yuril," someone else said, making me smirk. "No one knows where the hell she came from, but she's climbed up to the top of the ladder. Some people claim they saw her control water. She must have some sort of water-based Devil Fruit."
"Alright, fighters!" The sensei clapped his hands together, pulling my attention from the crowd. "This last match shall be different. Devil Fruit powers are allowed now. Bow to your sensei. Get in your fighting stances. Good. Round one, begin!"
I frowned. Devil Fruit powers were allowed? If what the crowd has said was true, then that meant that my new opponent would be able to freeze me, and that would allow him to the chance to punch me.
"Cold-Cold Avalanche!" called Toshiro, clapping his own hands together and bending his head down. A chill ran through the air and my eyes widened. I leaped to the side with a yell and rolled away. A freezing blast of cold wind rushed past the spot I'd been standing on moments before.
I managed to stop rolling just before I fell off the mat. I'd learned that if you exited the mat during a fight, that round would go to the other fighter. I scrambled to my feet and dodged another blast of arctic air, then retaliated by sticking my hand out and sending my thoughts to the water in the fountain. It sprayed out of the faucet, startling Toshiro and breaking his concentration. As he reestablished himself, I wrapped my fist in water and pounded his face in.
"Round one to red. Get back in your fighting stances. Round two begin!"
The second round was a bit tougher. Toshiro was now on the move, sending blasts of arctic air at me while at the same time, following up with punches and kicks. I was only barely managing not to get hit. The temperature of the room had dropped dramatically due to my opponent's Devil Fruit, and it felt as though some heavy weight was pushing down on me. My breath came out in ragged gasps, and my reactions were slowing.
Not good, I thought. At this point I'll lose the round, maybe even the match .
Just as I that crossed my mind, I felt a sharp jolt of pain in my side as Toshiro drove his foot into my ribcage. I winced and my body swayed with the blow a little
The sensei frowned. "Round two to black. Next hit wins the match. Get back in your fighting stances. Round three begin!"
The white-haired man's next few attacks were so fluid and quick it was as though he was dancing. He shot out with a punch, which I blocked with my forearm, than a bout of frigid wind, and followed up with a roundhouse kick. I bent my knees and rolled backward, effectively dodging both of the last two attacks. I skidded to a stop, then took off at a run, jumping into the air, flipping, and bringing my foot down in a deadly axe kick. Toshiro simply stepped to the side and I crashed into the mat. Almost before I could react, he quickly jabbed three punches at me, but I rolled to the side and blocked the last. He lashed his foot out sharply and I caught it like Hayden had done to me. Unlike Hayden, however, I used the fact that he was now off-balance to sweep his other leg out from under him, pivoting on my foot and one hand. He, too, crashed to the mat.
I scrambled back to my feet and wrapped my foot in water.
"Aqua Leg!" I proclaimed, doing a handstand like Sanji, flipping, and bringing my foot smashing down into Toshiro's exposed back.
WHUMP.
"Round three to red!" said the old man with a small smile. "The champion of the Fifty-Second Annual East Blue Karate Tournament has fallen to Artwaltz D. Yuril. Congratulations, kid!"
"Wait, no way!" sputtered Toshiro as he struggled to stand up, glaring at me. "She cheated! She had to have cheated! There's no way she could have defeated me so easily!"
"You think that... was easy?" I panted heavily, sweating profusely. "The whole time I felt slow and weak. That was probably one of the hardest battles I ever fought, and I don't mean injury-wise. Your speed was amazing but you were full of openings."
After that, I stumbled down to the bottom floor, where they stood me up on a podium and shouted how I won the tournament. They handed me my 100,000 belli prize and congratulated me some more. I humbly thanked them and went off to find Lucy.
"Where is that damn girl?" I cursed as I wandered the crazy streets of Loguetown. They'd been placed in a way that could easily get a newcomer lost, even if his or her sense of direction was a thousand times better than that of a certain Marimo. "If I don't find her in the next five minutes, I'm gonna go crazy."
I was lugging around my bag of belli and still breathing heavily from my battle with Toshiro, though now that I was out in the warm sun, I seemed to be getting some more energy back. I was looking for Lucy, but I wasn't finding her. Instead, all I got was Sanji chasing after random ladies, Nami carrying a bunch of bags filled to the brim with clothes, and Usopp checking out a gag shop.
I scanned the street for a straw hatted, black haired girl with a wide grin.
No such person.
"Hey, kid," a deep voice said. "You lost?"
I turned. Standing behind me and followed by a girl with blue hair and glasses was a man wearing a white coat with a bunch of cigars strapped to it. His face was squarish, his body was incredibly well toned, and he had blue green hair. A sheathed jitte was strapped to his back. He had brown gloves, blue jeans, and combat boots.
My eyes lit up with sparkles. I definitely recognized this guy from the anime. He was one of the few Marines with a true sense of justice.
"Y-You're Marine Captain Smoker!" I exclaimed in awe. "One of the few Marines with a sense of true justice! One of the only Marines who actually cares about the lives of citizens and his own men, and who would even overlook capturing a pirate to protect citizens! Dude, you're awesome! And behind you is Sergeant Major Tashigi, the beautiful, loyal, and caring student of Smoker who wishes to keep all the meito out of the hands of evil pirates! Can I have your autographs?"
They exchanged mystified glances, sweatdropping. "Er... sure," they conceded. They pulled out some paper and Tashigi found a pen in her pocket. They signed their names on the paper and handed it to me. I grinned excitedly, stuffed it in my pocket, thanked them, and went off to find Lucy again, leaving them to wonder who the hell I was.
A scream came from above me and I looked up. It was Lucy flying through the air. I sweatdropped. What the hell was she doing now? Shaking my head in exasperated amusement, I raced off in the direction she'd been flying. I took a turn and ended up at a dead end, but there was an almighty crash from the other side of the wall and I decided to try and scale it.
After about an hour of trying to climb it and failing (I had decided against trying another route since these streets and alleys were so confusing), I drew water from the air, wrapped it around my fist, and smashed the wall to pieces with three Aqua Fists.
Why the hell didn't I think of that before? I sighed. Would have saved a lot of trouble.
When I emerged from the alley, I found myself in a quaint circle with a fountain in the middle. No one was here except a girl in a red vest and blue jean shorts and a straw hat. I sighed in relief. As I walked up to Lucy, her eyes snapped open and she popped up, looking around wildly.
"Oi, Lucy-chan!" I said, grinning and waving.
"Oh, Yuril!" she said, turning to me and smiling widely. "So what's up? Didja win?"
"You better believe it," I quipped, showing her my bag of belli.
"Hey, do you know how to get to Main Street from here? I met some smokey Marine ossan and fought him at the platform, but I accidentally flung myself all the way out here..."
"Idiot," I sighed. "No, I don't. Come on, we'll find it together."
We dashed back out onto the streets of Loguetown, though I was a bit parched and my stomach was grumbling a little. We peered around, looking for the platform. Suddenly I caught sight of a cloaked dude with a strange red nose looking around, too, muttering, "Where's that straw hat bitch? She should be around here somewhere..."
Lucy was standing right next to him but had knelt down, out of the cloaked man's line of sight. She was muttering nearly the same thing except about the execution platform. They swapped directions, then both looked in the same way, right past me. I sweatdropped, though I shivered at the sight of the other man. The part of his face that was visible through the cowl of his cloak looked like a clown's.
"Where is she...?"
"Where is it...?"
"What are you looking for, girl?" the man said.
"Where's the execution platform?"
He pointed. "That way."
"Thanks, ossan!" Lucy giggled, racing off in that direction. I sighed and shook my head at the two's similar idiocy, then took off after my captain. Behind us, there was a surprised gasp, and then the cloaked man yelled, "AH! THAT WAS THE STRAW HAT BITCH!"
Together, Lucy and I ran to the pirate king's execution platform, though I was a bit slower due to my heavy load of money.