A Little Piece of Kripton (One Piece x Superman)

Royal stood face-to-face with the swordsman, his frustration bubbling to the surface. His father's constant teasing and provocations had finally pushed him over the edge. Besides, it wasn't every day that he encountered someone who wielded swords—let alone three at once—like Zoro.

Handing the bar back to Shakky with a calm nod, Royal stepped out from behind the counter. "Fine," he muttered, his voice laced with a subtle edge. "Let's see what the hype is about."

Zoro smirked, already sizing up the larger man. This wasn't just a casual sparring match; to him this is a test of the strength that he learn within two years.

Rayleigh, clearly enjoying himself, led the two outside to a quiet, secluded area behind the bar. It was far enough from prying eyes and ears, ensuring that no one would interrupt. The area was surrounded by towering trees, the ground uneven but firm enough for a proper match.

"Here we are," Rayleigh said, gesturing to the clearing. "Nice and private. No excuses for holding back."

Royal stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders as he surveyed the space. His blue eyes flicked to Zoro, his expression calm but focused. "Let's get this over with," he said flatly, though deep down, he felt a flicker of anticipation.

Zoro, now gripping his swords, grinned as he positioned himself. "Don't hold back, bartender," he said, the challenge clear in his tone. "I won't."

"Royal"

"Well, don't hold back then Royal"

Of course, Royal had no intention of using his full strength. It wouldn't be fair—not to mention unnecessary—especially on such a scorching day in the middle of the dry season on the Sabaody Archipelago. The blazing sun above seemed to challenge and tease his cells to absorb more of it's radiation.

Zoro, unfazed by the heat, shifted into his stance, his three swords gleaming under the sunlight. His intense focus and the weight of his presence gave Royal a sense that the swordsman was already calculating his every move.

On the sidelines, not far from where the two stood, Rayleigh was anything but impartial. He cupped his hands around his mouth and cheered loudly, grinning from ear to ear.

"Come on, Zoro! Show him what you're made of!" Rayleigh shouted, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "Don't let that lazy son of mine off easy!"

Royal glanced briefly at his father, his jaw tightening in mild annoyance. Typical, he thought, rolling his eyes before focusing back on Zoro. "He talks too much," Royal muttered under his breath, his calm demeanor masking the quiet fire in his eyes.

Zoro smirked at the comment but didn't let his focus waver. "Sounds like he's not wrong about you," he quipped, readying himself. "Let's see if you can keep up."

The air between them grew heavy with tension as they prepared to clash. But olny the green hair man seem to want to test their limits.

Zoro was the first to strike, launching himself forward with incredible speed. In less than a second, he closed the distance between them, one of his swords slicing downward in a powerful vertical arc.

To any ordinary opponent, it would have been impossible to react in time. But for Royal, the attack seemed almost leisurely. His heightened senses allowed him to perceive every detail in slow motion—the shift in Zoro's stance, the tightening of his grip, and even the faint sound of the swordsman's heartbeat accelerating as his foot left its position.

I can see it clearly even when the attack seem random to the naked eyes, Royal thought, his blue eyes following the blade's trajectory with calm precision. He didn't flinch, his body moving instinctively to counter the attack.

The air seemed to hum with energy as Zoro's sword descended, the clash inevitable. Royal, however, remained poised, as if waiting for the perfect moment to respond.

Royal didn't bother drawing a proper weapon. Instead, with a calm expression, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a butter knife—a mundane utensil that looked almost laughable compared to the razor-sharp blade Zoro was wielding.

As Zoro's sword came down with deadly force, Royal raised the butter knife effortlessly to meet the strike. The clash should have been comical, with the flimsy knife shattering instantly under the strength and sharpness of Zoro's sword.

But instead of breaking, the knife held firm. A faint crackling sound filled the air as a surge of bioelectric energy coursed through the blade, emanating from Royal's grip. Sparks danced along the knife's edge, creating a temporary field of resistance strong enough to counter Zoro's attack.

Zoro's eyes widened slightly as he felt the unexpected force pushing back against him. His instincts screamed that there was something dangerous about his opponent.

"Is that all?" Royal asked, his voice calm and detached, as if deflecting an attack with a butter knife was an everyday occurrence. His eyes locked onto Zoro's, unflinching.

Zoro gritted his teeth, pushing harder against the knife, determined to overpower whatever trick Royal was using. "You're full of surprises," he admitted, his voice tinged with excitement. "But this is just the beginning."

With his sword in his free hand, Zoro swung it toward Royal's side, while the blade clenched in his mouth slashed toward Royal's head. It was a coordinated and lethal combination, executed with a precision that few could rival.

Royal, however, saw it all in excruciatingly slow motion. Every movement, from the shift in Zoro's weight to the arc of each blade, was laid bare before his enhanced senses. The hum of Zoro's muscles tightening, the faint whistle of the blades slicing through the air—it was all crystal clear.

Instead of trying to block or parry such a relentless assault, Royal decided to step back. His retreat was swift, almost unnatural, as if he had vanished and reappeared a few feet away in the blink of an eye. The ground beneath him barely registered the weight of his movement.

Zoro's swords cut through the space where Royal had stood just a moment ago, meeting only empty air. The force of the attack was enough to send a gust of wind rippling outward, stirring the dust and leaves in the area.

"That's quite a tempo you've got there," Royal said, his voice calm but tinged with mild amusement as he stood a safe distance away. He adjusted his grip on the butter knife, the faint hum of his bioelectric energy still crackling faintly around it.

Zoro grinned, the fire of a true swordsman burning in his eyes. "You're fast," he admitted, his voice low and steady. "But let's see how long you can keep running."

Royal arched an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "Running? No, swordsman. I'm just giving you space to tire yourself out."

Rayleigh sat on a large rock nearby, one hand propping up his chin as he watched the spectacle unfold before him. A faint, amused hum escaped his lips, a clear sign he was thoroughly enjoying the duel between his son and the swordsman.

Royal and Zoro moved across the clearing with relentless speed, a flurry of strikes and evasions that made them seem like a cat chasing an impossibly elusive mouse. Every time Zoro launched a powerful attack, Royal dodged with an almost lazy precision, his movements effortless yet calculated.

Finally, a frustrated roar broke through the sound of clashing blades and rushing wind.

"How the hell—!" Zoro's voice carried disbelief, his swords frozen mid-stance as he glared at Royal.

The green-haired swordsman was certain his blade had connected, the force and precision of his strike undeniable. Yet there was no blood, no sign of a wound, not even a scratch on Royal's skin. It was as if the blow had never landed on his duel partner.

Royal stood a few feet away, brushing imaginary dust from his shoulder with a look of nonchalance. His calm demeanor only fueled Zoro's growing irritation.

"You really thought that would work?" Royal asked, his tone infuriatingly casual. "I've told you—I'm not like anyone you've fought before."

Rayleigh chuckled from his perch, his voice carrying across the clearing. "Don't let it get to you, Zoro! The boy's built a little... differently. Try not to overthink it."

Zoro's grip on his swords tightened, his jaw clenched in determination. Whatever trick Royal was using, it only fueled his resolve to find a way through.

Zoro's eyes narrowed with determination, and he clenched his teeth as he coated his katana with the power of Armament Haki. The black sheen enveloping his blades radiated with a newfound intensity, a sign that he was serious about this next strike.

Royal watched, sensing the change in Zoro's posture. He could feel the pressure in the air increase as the swordsman prepared himself, now more focused than ever.

So, he's bringing out the Haki, Royal thought, his expression remaining calm. He had faced opponents who wielded Haki before, but there was something different about Zoro's fighting spirit. He's adapting. Good. The best teacher really is experience.

Zoro surged forward, his swords cutting through the air with lethal speed. His movements were deliberate, aiming to land a blow that could bypass whatever trick Royal was using to avoid his strikes. He had a theory forming in his mind—that Royal might be a Devil Fruit user, someone who could possess enhanced abilities like strength, speed, and durability.

Zoro's swordsmen instincts told him that Royal's resistance to his earlier strikes wasn't just luck. There had to be something more, something unnatural about the way he moved.

With a fierce battle cry, Zoro attacked again, this time with a flurry of slashes. He had no intention of holding back anymore, pushing his Haki to its limits in a desperate bid to land a solid hit.

However, Royal's reaction was nothing like Zoro expected. His movements were fluid, almost effortless, as he sidestepped and evaded each strike with uncanny precision. It was as though he anticipated every move before Zoro even made it. The sound of the blades clashing with nothing but air echoed, frustrating Zoro with every swing.

"You really thought Haki would work against me?" Royal's voice broke through the tension, a faint trace of amusement lingering in his words.

Zoro didn't answer. He was too focused on his next strike, unwilling to give up. He adjusted his stance and charged again, this time trying to outmaneuver Royal's counterattacks.

Clink.

Clink.

Clink.

The sound of steel meeting steel echoed in the air, sharp and constant, as Zoro and Royal continued their fast-paced exchange of strikes. With each swing, Zoro's blades clashed against Royal's butter knife, the sheer force of their combat reverberating through the surroundings.

Royal was a master of matching Zoro's speed and agility, his body moving with a fluidity that mirrored the swordsman's every action. The battle had become a tense dance of parries and counterattacks, neither giving an inch.

"Careful, Zoro. My son is mimicking your moves like he's tracing a drawing. Don't get too comfortable."

But then, in an instant, the tempo shifted.

Without warning, Royal closed the distance between them with a speed that seemed impossible, and in a move so quick it could hardly be perceived by the human eye, he delivered a devastating punch to Zoro's stomach.

The blow landed with a sickening thud, a mere five centimeters from Zoro's body, but it hit with the force of a battering ram. The Armament Haki around Zoro's abdomen wasn't enough to protect him from such raw power.

Zoro's breath was knocked out of him, his knees buckling as he collapsed to the ground. A sharp gasp of pain escaped him as he clutched his abdomen, the impact leaving him stunned and gasping for air.

Rayleigh, still sitting on the rock, let out a low whistle of approval. "Well, I did warn you," he muttered under his breath.

Zoro groaned, his body struggling to recover. "Damn... that hit... where did it even come from?" he muttered, still trying to catch his breath.

Royal stood a few paces away, his expression neutral, but his eyes betrayed a hint of satisfaction. "You're strong, Zoro. Be proud of it." he said, his tone calm and almost apologetic.

Zoro, still catching his breath but refusing to stay down, looked up at Royal with determination burning in his eyes. "If that's the case, you'll train me, right?" he said, his voice steady despite the lingering pain. 

Royal raised an eyebrow, his arms crossing over his chest. "And what exactly is in it for me?" he replied, his tone cool and uninterested. "I've got enough to deal with, like my very demanding bartending job." 

Zoro smirked, wiping the sweat from his brow as he slowly got to his feet. "I'll help you out at the bar," he offered. "While I wait for my crew to arrive, I'll do your job, and in return, you train me. Fair deal, right?" 

Royal tilted his head slightly, pretending to consider the offer. "Hmm, so I get free labor and I have to go out of my way to train you? Doesn't sound like the best trade for me." 

Zoro's smirk widened. "You seem like the kind of guy who enjoys a challenge. Unless you're scared I'll outpace you." 

Royal's eyes narrowed, catching the faint hint of a challenge in Zoro's tone. A moment of silence passed before he sighed, rolling his eyes in mock defeat. "Fine. I'll teach you a thing or two," he said begrudgingly. "But don't expect me to go easy on you." 

Zoro's smirk turned into a grin. "Wouldn't have it any other way." 

From his spot on the rock, Rayleigh laughed heartily. "Well, well, this should be entertaining," he said, his voice full of amusement. "Royal, it's seems like the first step in starting a friendship—"

"Don't push it old man."

"—Maybe you will got your own pirate crew soon."

Royal glanced over at his father with a dry expression. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, father."

"Yor're welcome." Rayleigh replied, even though he knew his son's words were laced with sarcasm.