It was a usual, quiet, and gloomy day on Kuraigana Island, just like Mihawk liked it. A peaceful and silent moment within the walls of his stone castle.

Mihawk sat within his chambers, dressed in his fine white shirt and black leather pants. He held a cup of red wine in his hand as he seemed to contemplate silently. His face that seemed to be made out of marble held the same stoic and concentrated expression it always did.