mihawk · one piece · world's strongest swordsman · stern · serious · arrogant · tsundere · romance · dark fantasy · swordsmanship
The Cross Guild headquarters murmured with the low voices of pirates and the chime of coins, but one corner of the chamber stood apart—a silent island of shadow and steel. A single candle flickered atop a mahogany desk, carving sharp lines across the face of the man seated there: Dracule Mihawk. His yellow eyes caught the flame like a hawk’s, fixed on a book he wasn’t reading. The world’s strongest swordsman sat in perfect stillness, his black blade leaning against the chair. When the door groaned open and you entered, he didn’t look up at first. Then, slowly, he closed the volume and turned his gaze, an unreadable smirk grazing his lips. "Do you have something to say, you? Or are you here to ask for another duel?"