ManHunt

In the shadowed streets of Ebisu Town, the aftermath of a massacre lay bare.

Fukurokuju, the Ninja captain of the Oniwabanshu, stood amidst the chaos, his eyes surveying the scene with a calculating gaze.

Twenty members of the Mimawarigumi, including their captain Hotei, lay lifeless, their defeat evident in the stillness of their forms. The air was heavy with the scent of blood and the echo of a recent battle.

Holding a Transponder snail, Fukurokuju prepared to report the grim situation to Shogun Kurozumi Orochi, who was awaiting news in the opulent halls of his castle.

The snail, a peculiar communication device, wriggled slightly as the connection was established.

"Lord Orochi" Fukurokuju began, his voice steady and devoid of emotion. "I regret to inform you that the squad of Mimawarigumi have been annihilated at Ebisu Town. Their captain, Hotei, is among the fallen."

In his castle, Orochi's face twisted into a mask of rage and disbelief. "What? Annihilated? How is this possible?" he barked, his voice laced with fury and his typical paranoia.

"It appears the assailant is the wanted 'Ghost', my lord. The townspeople confirmed his presence and his fearsome abilities." Fukurokuju reported methodically.

Orochi slammed his fist on the armrest of his throne, his hair writhing in agitation. "That cursed 'Ghost'! How dare he challenge my authority and decimate my elite forces!" he seethed, his eyes burning with vengeful fury.

Pausing for a moment, Fukurokuju added. "With the Mimawarigumi leaderless, there is a void in command."

Orochi, still seething, snapped, "Then you, Fukurokuju, will take command of the Mimawarigumi. Ensure such disgrace never happens again!"

"As you command, Lord Orochi." Fukurokuju responded, his face impassive, accepting the additional responsibility without any change in his demeanor.

Orochi's mind raced with plots of revenge. "I want 'Ghost' found and eliminated! Send four hundred of the thousand Mimawarigumi members available. I want a manhunt like no other. Tear apart every corner of Wano until he is found!"

Fukurokuju bowed slightly, even though Orochi couldn't see it through the snail. "It shall be done, my lord. The hunt for this 'Ghost' will begin immediately."

"And Fukurokuju.." Orochi hissed, his voice taking on a sinister edge. "Do not fail me. This 'Ghost' has made a mockery of my power. He must be taught a lesson in the harshest way possible."

"Understood, Lord Orochi. The might of the Shogun will be felt by all." Fukurokuju assured him, ending the communication with a sense of grim determination.

As the snail's connection ended, Orochi sat back in his throne, his thoughts dark and vengeful. The massacre at Ebisu Town was a blow to his pride and authority, one he could not let go unanswered. His orders had been given, and now the hunt for 'Ghost' would begin in earnest, a hunt that would shake the foundations of Wano with its intensity and ruthlessness. At least that's what he hoped..

The next day, effort for the man hunt were intensified. 

Supporting troops were dispatched from the flower capital. 

However Momonosuke continued to evade capture.

In a secluded area, Fukurokuju was sitting a Transponder Snail in his hand. His expression was as unreadable as ever, betraying none of the tension of the ongoing manhunt.

Miles away in Hakumai, a member of the Mimawarigumi, flanked by a squad of five, held the corresponding snail.

"Captain Fukurokuju" the Mimawarigumi member began, his voice laced with excitement and anticipation, "We've located the 'Ghost' in Hakumai."

Fukurokuju's eyes narrowed slightly, the closest he came to showing surprise. "Excellent. Secure him immediately, and do not underestimate his abilities." he instructed, his voice calm and measured as always.

"Yes, sir!" the Mimawarigumi member responded with enthusiasm. He turned to his squad, signaling them to prepare for engagement. But as he did so, a blur of movement caught his eye.

Before he could react, Momonosuke emerged like a wraith from the shadows. His movements were swift and precise. In a flash, the Transponder Snail fell silent, its line cut along with the fates of the Mimawarigumi squad. 

Back in his concealed location, Fukurokuju waited for further communication, but none came. His seasoned instincts immediately understood the grim silence.

Setting down the snail, he turned to an attendant beside him.

"Inform all squads involved in the manhunt." he ordered, his voice devoid of emotion yet carrying an undercurrent of urgency. "Converge on Hakumai. 'The Ghost' has made his presence known there."

The attendant nodded briskly, moving to carry out the instructions. Fukurokuju stood still for a moment, his thoughts inscrutable. 

This development was a significant one. 'Ghost' had revealed himself, but the elusive figure continued to outmaneuver and overpower their forces.

 It was a chess game of strategy and skill, and Fukurokuju, ever the strategist, was already calculating the next move.

As the attendant dispatched the message, the air around Fukurokuju seemed to grow colder, more intense. 

The hunt for 'Ghost' was not just a mission. It had become a testament to the capabilities of the Oniwabanshu and the Mimawarigumi under his new command. 

Failure was not an option, and he was prepared to deploy all necessary resources to bring this 'Ghost' down. The game was afoot, and Fukurokuju was determined to emerge victorious.

Somewhere in Hakumai 

Exhausted yet determined, Momonosuke sprinted through the dense forest of Wano, his breath ragged and uneven. For the past 24 hours, he had been relentlessly pursued, a target of a ruthless manhunt. 

His kimono was torn and dirtied, evidence of the unending chase. Cuts and bruises marred his skin, each a painful reminder of the close encounters and narrow escapes he had endured.

Despite the physical toll, his spirit remained unbroken, his will to survive burning fiercely within him.

Momonosuke's sharp instincts had kept him one step ahead of his pursuers, but as the relentless chase wore on, his body began to betray him. 

His movements grew slower, his reactions less sharp. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, and the lack of sleep clouded his judgment. 

Yet, fear was not a sentiment he entertained. Survival and evasion were his only concerns.

The dense foliage eventually gave way to a clearing, and Momonosuke's heart sank as he realized he had run into a dead end. Before him yawned a vast abyss, a chasm too wide to cross. With no path forward, he spun around, sword drawn, ready to face whatever threat pursued him.

And then he saw him – a towering figure on the back of a Komatori, a giant, imposing breed of chicken known for its rideability and distinctive flame-like combs and wattles. 

The rider was none other than Jack, a notorious member of the Beast Pirates. His reputation for brutality and strength preceded him, and his presence signaled the seriousness of the pursuit Momonosuke had been trying to escape.

Jack dismounted the Komatori, his heavy boots thudding against the ground.

He towered over Momonosuke, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in the sight of the weary, yet defiant, figure before him.

"So, you are the 'Ghost' that has been causing so much trouble." Jack said, his voice deep and menacing. "You've led us on quite the chase, but it ends here."

Momonosuke steadied his breathing, gripping his sword tighter. His body was pushed to its limits, but his resolve was unwavering. "I have no intention of going down without a fight, you know ?" he replied, his voice steady despite his fatigue.

Jack laughed, a cold, humorless sound. "I was hoping you'd say that. It's not often I get to enjoy a good fight." he said, drawing his two shotel blades, that started gleaming menacingly in the sunlight.

The two warriors faced off, the tension palpable in the air. Momonosuke knew the odds were against him. Jack was fresh, powerful, and one of Kaido's favorites. But Momonosuke had something else – a determination forged from the fires of survival and a spirit that refused to yield.

With a fierce cry, Momonosuke lunged forward, initiating what would be a desperate battle against overwhelming odds. His blade moved with the last remnants of his strength. Jack countered with powerful, sweeping blows, his strength and size an advantage in the fight.

The clash of swords rang out, echoing across the abyss, a dance of steel that was as much about survival as it was about honor. Momonosuke's movements were fueled by sheer adrenaline, pushing his tired body beyond its limits. Jack, relishing the challenge, responded with a brutality that matched his reputation.