Anime Girls are Moist

Chapter 1142 1,141: Destruction of Wano

When she was little,

Yamato had been locked by Kaido inside a sunless cave on Onigashima.

It was this diary that let her learn about the world outside—about Kozuki Oden's adventures, about a samurai's loyalty and backbone.

She memorized every single line in it until she could recite it in her sleep, and she lived her life as Kozuki Oden's shadow.

She swore she would become someone like Oden.

She would liberate Wano, shatter the shackles of isolation, and lead the samurai here toward the free open sea.

For that dream, she fought Kaido.

She was imprisoned, beaten, crushed again and again—

she even threatened death to force his hand, and still she never gave up.

She had always believed that as long as Kaido fell, as long as the Beast Pirates were wiped out, her dream would come true.

Wano would accept her. She would become the Kozuki Oden she wanted to be.

But in the end… what did she get?

The samurai she'd admired wanted nothing more than to tear her to pieces.

The Wano she'd protected had no place for her at all.

"Samurai… aren't supposed to be like this…"

She parted her cracked, peeling lips, her voice so hoarse it was almost inaudible.

That murmured line carried a despair so deep it had sunk into her bones—so deep she didn't even notice it herself.

"Bushidō… isn't supposed to be like this…"

She let her head rest lightly against the icy wall. At last her tears broke loose, mixing with rain and blood as they slid down from the corners of her eyes.

Her faith shattered completely in that moment.

A cold wind, carrying the stench of muddy water, poured into the narrow alley.

…

Yamato crouched in the deepest corner of the alley, her back jammed hard against the cold stone.

She had been on the run for three days and three nights.

From the streets of the Flower Capital to abandoned lanes on the outskirts, she hadn't slept, and she hadn't eaten a single proper meal.

Even the water she drank was just rainwater pooled by the roadside.

Her body was covered in wounds.

Old ones still seeped blood; new ones were caked with mud. Every breath tugged at her chest with needle-like pain.

The kanabō in her hand had long since chipped and curled at the edge. It was the weapon she'd used since childhood—yet now she didn't even have the strength to lift it.

In those three days, wave after wave of pursuers had come for her.

Not remnants of the Beast Pirates—

but the samurai of Wano, the very people she had fought to protect.

Again and again she dodged. Again and again she held back. Even when blades cut her, even when arrows grazed her, she never dealt a killing blow to any of them.

She kept telling herself they just hated the wrong person.

She kept telling herself that as long as she held on to Lord Oden's beliefs, one day they would understand.

Then she heard movement at the mouth of the alley.

First came the chaotic splashing of boots grinding through muddy water—far away at first, then closer, faster.

Next came the samurai's vicious roars, like poison-coated knives stabbing straight into her ears.

"There! I saw her! Kaido's bastard is hiding in here!"

"Move! Don't let her get away! This time we're taking her head!"

The orange glow of torches spilled into the alley first.

It lit the murky puddles on the ground, then the mottled scratches along the walls, and finally—without mercy—fell onto her battered body.

More than a dozen samurai with long blades packed the entrance, sealing it off completely.

Her only way out was shut tight.

Firelight burned in their eyes—raw, undisguised hatred, thick enough to choke on.

Their blades caught the light and gleamed with a freezing, bone-deep chill, every one of them aimed at her vital points.

Yamato clenched her teeth, her jawline drawn taut.

Bracing against the cold stone behind her, she tried to stand.

But the moment she put strength into her legs, a searing weakness stabbed through her—like her bones had been drained of all power.

She crashed back down hard, splashing icy mud everywhere. Blood from her wounds spread beneath her in a dark stain.

She couldn't even muster a shred of Haki.

Pain screamed from every wound. Every muscle protested the exhaustion that had gone far past its limit.

Forget fighting—right now, even standing was a luxury.

The samurai stepped through the puddles and closed in.

The wet grind of their boots in the silence was ear-splitting.

At the front was a samurai with a long scar down his left cheek.

In these three days, he had hunted her the hardest.

She recognized him.

His wife, his parents, his ten-year-old child—every one of them had been slaughtered by the Beast Pirates.

He raised his long blade, the tip steady as it pointed at Yamato's throat, no more than half a foot away.

His voice was packed with clenched, grinding hatred, every word squeezed through his teeth.

"Demon's child. Your time has come."

His voice trembled slightly with sheer emotion.

"Because of you, Wano was torn apart—how much blood has been spilled, how many have died!"

"Today, I'll use your head to comfort our dead countrymen— and to honor Lord Oden's spirit in the heavens!"

The surrounding samurai lifted their blades as well, edges all aimed at Yamato on the ground.

They roared in unison, loud enough that the alley walls seemed to shake.

"Kill her! Avenge Wano!"

"Kill Kaido's bastard! Soothe the restless dead!"

Yamato stared at the blade only an inch from her throat.

And she smiled.

The smile spread from the corner of her mouth—without a hint of warmth, only bitterness that seeped all the way into her bones.

And something else, too—relief, as if even her last stubborn thread of obsession had finally snapped.

Her Oden dream.

Her bushidō.

The faith she had gripped for twenty years—faith she never let go of even when she was sealed in a lightless stone prison—

had been torn to shreds over these three days by the very people she had tried to protect with her life.

So it didn't matter what she did.

It didn't matter how much she worshipped Kozuki Oden.

It didn't matter that she'd risked everything for Wano, defied Kaido, and stood at the very front of the raid on Onigashima.

To everyone, she would always be Kaido's daughter.

The bastard left behind by the demon who destroyed their home.

This world she'd fought so hard to embrace had never had a place for her.

Slowly, she closed her eyes.

Her long lashes trembled; muddy water clung to them and slid down her cheeks like tears.

Her fingers loosened. The chipped kanabō fell from her hand with a loud clang, the sound painfully clear in the silent alley.

She gave up on living.

Maybe death would be freedom.

She wouldn't have to face this endless hatred anymore. She wouldn't have to cling to broken faith and live on like a joke.

But the cold blade she expected never came down.

She had even braced herself for the agony of steel slicing open her throat.

What arrived instead was a short, shrill scream.

Then more screams—one after another—followed by the dull thuds of heavy bodies hitting the ground, and the sharp crack of bones snapping.

A blood stench so thick it was almost solid flooded the entire alley in an instant, choking her until she couldn't stop herself from coughing.

Yamato's eyes snapped open.

The scene before her was—hell on earth.