It was a gentle summer day in August, the leaves were dancing in the wind as the heat of the sun was roasting the earth, an old man who wore a black robe on his body was resting in the shade of a tree as a youth was training his swordsmanship under his supervision. This man was Miyamoto Sakeraki the greatest swordsman to ever live.

His hair was done in a top knot on his head and he had various scars on his face that showed through how many difficulties he had gone through, how many duels he won and lost across the many years of his life, he was already reaching one hundred and ten years old this year and he looked a bit under seventy.

The youth took his training seriously, he was an outsider who heard about Miyamoto's tragedy, as none of his sons or daughters wanted to inherit his swordsmanship, Miyamoto was extremely depressed after he heard that but he realized that he didn't have any rights to influence their lives, he abandoned them at a young age to realize his dream of becoming the world greatest swordsman.

His children loathed Miyamoto because due to his selfishness his wife died at a young age, both his two sons and daughter hated him thoroughly and ignored him, they had already left his house a long time ago and hoped he died, unfortunately for them, his technique led to him having a higher lifespan than most humans making him able to even reach the age of two hundred or more.

The youth who was slashing at the wooden post was called Bito, he was an unknown young lad Miyamoto saved from some thugs, he supposedly owed them money from his father's gambling debts that he now owed due to his father passing away.

Seeing an opportunity to pass down his techniques and redeem himself in young Bito he decided to adopt him and take him as his student. As the greatest swordsman in the world, he had fame and money aplenty but not even that made his real children come back to him.

Unfortunately, Bito wasn't that talented in swordsmanship and it would take him quite a long while to learn all of Miyamoto's techniques. Miyamoto from time to time would instruct him when he did a mistake on his katas.

As things progressed years passed more and more, it's been almost twenty years since Miyamoto took Bito as his student and foster son and finally, he learned all of Miyamoto's techniques finishing his training at thirty-four years old.

Bito's hands were red as blood splattered on the ground, Miyamoto's trusty sword which he used to conquer the world of swordsmen was now found in its owner's gut, Miyamoto wanted to retaliate as his honed instincts told him to but unfortunately for him, the wound was too much for him to be able to fight anymore. It was a fatal wound that would kill him slowly now and Bito wouldn't let him get away to heal it.

Bito opened his mouth to say something as Miyamoto gasped in pain:

"I'm sorry master but some people out there don't want your techniques to be spread even further."

Miyamoto growled as he said in an angry tone of voice:

"You animal, I saved you, I took care of you and taught you and this is how you repay me for all I did to you?"

Bito chuckled somberly and said:

"You still don't get it, do you? It was all a setup."

Moments of the past started to flash around Miyamoto's memory as sometimes Bito would look at him with strange eyes that seemed to contain pity, but he was too happy to realize that back then his old age muddled his thoughts and instincts, his sorrow and depression that he just got out of added on that.

Miyamoto continued with his dying breath:

"You... you..." but before he could continue his words his hard started to limp as his heart was stopping pumping blood in his body, fog started to appear in his vision as his life started to run away from him, bits of his past started to appear in his mind replaying them again and again.

It was always the same moment when he left his wife and children to follow his dream, he chuckled to himself as the images disappeared and his shallow breathing stopped forever.

Bito kneeled near the body for a while sobbing, while a cloaked man suddenly appeared behind him and said in a cold tone of voice:

"Your mission is done, I'm here to get rid of the body."

Bito got up from the kneeling position he was into and put himself between Miyamoto's body and the cloaked man while saying:

"You already took his life and his techniques what else do you want from him? Let me give him a proper burial!"

The cloaked man shook his head and said:

"That's not for you to decide." The cloaked man suddenly appeared behind Bito and karate chopped him in the neck making him go limp and unconscious.

Miyamoto's soul saw everything that happened as it was ripped from his body by a bony claw, it was the Reaper himself who came to collect his soul. The Reaper didn't say anything as he tied Miyamoto in chains and started dragging him towards a white door that appeared in mid-air, not letting him see everything else that happened below him.

The Reaper entered the door with Miyamoto tied up behind him, there was nothing inside the room that they appeared beside a chair and a desk, the Reaper tied him to the chair with the chains and left, Miyamoto tried to escape from the chains but even though they were loosely tied to him they just wouldn't come off.

Miyamoto decided to wait, he wasn't a religious person as all he wanted during his whole life was to reach the peak of the sword and thus he neglected every other part of his life, so he didn't know where he was currently.

He just waited in the room and waited he couldn't perceive time in the room so he didn't know how much time gone before someone appeared suddenly in the chair.

He was a handsome man with horns on his head that wore a dark suit and he had deep red hair, he adjusted his monocle as he pulled a thick dossier of papers from god knows where.

He opened the dossier and started talking:

"Miyamoto Sakeraki, age 134, the murder count fifty thousand, abandoned family for a selfish dream which resulted in the death of Miyuki Sakeraki."

He adjusted his monocle again as he continued to read the dossier and he continued to say things that made Miyamoto's face pale as if he wasn't pale enough for being just a soul.

Miyamoto opened his mouth to say something but the man waved his hand and a zipper appeared on Miyamoto's face that closed itself not letting him say anything.

Miyamoto started to struggle but after a while, he just stopped while the man continued to read the deeds he did his whole life.

The man finished:

"Killed by foster son so your techniques can't be shared with anyone else." The man hummed as he closed the dossier and tapped it then he said:

"It's not my job to do this but god took a vacation and left me here, I'm so annoyed with that fool..."

Miyamoto's eyes widened at the mention of God, even though he wasn't religious he still knew the basics of who God was.

The horned man threw the dossier away from the table and put the monocle from his face in his chest pocket while simultaneously opening the zipper on Miyamoto's mouth after Miyamoto was freed he started to spew questions like a machine gun:

"Where am I, who are you? What am I doing here? Am I dead?"

"Limbo, I am the Devil, Yes you are dead and you are getting judged here, as I said before this was supposed to be God's job but that fool took a vacation and left all this tiresome work to me."

Miyamoto blinked his eyes as all his questions were solved but afterward, his mouth was zippered again as the devil was thinking on how to handle him, for all his sins he should be sent to the eighth or ninth level of hell but since god wasn't here the devil decided to have some fun.

"I should send you to hell but I have a funnier way to torture you, I will just destroy your soul directly and slowly, I will strip you of your memories then torture you for all eternity personally! Isn't that great?"

Miyamoto started to pale even further making him almost transparent, the devil put on some black gloves on his hands and dragged the chair Miyamoto was tied to a dark door with skulls of different shapes and colors embedded in it.

Miyamoto wanted to scream or escape but he couldn't he was tied with the chains of death from the Reaper, only the Reaper or his equivalent could free him from them, unfortunately, the equivalent was dragging him towards an eternity of pain!

Miyamoto was dragged inside the door and the torture started, the Devil used his gloved hands to rip open Miyamoto's head then he started to gather all of his memories into a white ball of light which he threw into a random portal he opened, it was one of the worlds where he gifted humans with some fruits in exchange of them being unable to swim, it was one of the funnier and interesting worlds he interacted with.

As the black door closed itself you would hear the terrified and pained cries of Miyamoto the greatest swordsman Earth number 534952 could see. From time to time these cries would stop as the Devil had to judge some new poor souls who died recently.

Inside Earth number 56666 a young man with green hair who wore nothing but a green gi and sandals was training intensely using a dozen swords in his hands and mouth while mumbling to himself:

"More swords mean more strength!" this man was known as Roronoa Zoro and his dream was to become the world's greatest swordsman!

As he trained using his swords he slipped and the bunch of swords buried him underneath piling themselves on him and hitting him in the head repeatedly, erasing his sense of direction forever!

Fortunately for the young man, a bright ball of light suddenly appeared near him from a portal which closed itself as soon as it opened, the ball fell directly on his head full of bumps as he cried out in an even more exaggerated way than before. He now became thoroughly unconscious.

As Zoro slept Miyamoto's memories infiltrated his brain and soul as they tried to take control of his body but Zoro wasn't a normal fellow at all, suddenly out of his soul a shadowy being with three heads and six arms shouted and grabbed the memories before devouring all of them.

Afterward, Zoro's mind palace started to fix itself at quick speeds while the useful memories from Miyamoto were assimilated while the useless ones were purged and threw away, Miyamoto's sense of direction replaced Zoro's broken one making him whole again while giving him the experience of an advanced swordsman.

Of course, such a swordsman wasn't anything big in Zoro's world but it gave him a sturdy foundation which he could now follow to create his techniques and grow stronger faster!

Suddenly Zoro opened his eyes and scattered all the swords that were piled on him then took a nearby one in his hand and did a horizontal slash in the air, a strange look appeared on his face as he felt like now knew how to fight as a swordsman properly while he also seemed to have experience in life and death duels even though he never fought anyone before.

Zoro ran over towards a hollow tree where he hid his real swords which he tied to his back and he smiled:

"It seems I got enlightened on swordsmanship after I hit myself on the head with the sword!"

Zoro couldn't be any more wrong about this one.