How Does One Piece Borsalino Use His Light-Light Fruit?

Man, the first time I saw Borsalino in 'One Piece' I laughed at his slow, almost bored way of speaking—then watched him vaporize entire squads and realized this guy isn’t just chill, he’s deadly efficient. From my perspective, the simplest reason he became an admiral is that he’s the kind of raw, uncontestable strength the Marines need at the top. The Pika Pika no Mi doesn’t just give him flashy beams; it gives unmatched mobility and firepower. In a world where sea kings, pirates, and logia users run wild, having someone who can move and strike at the speed of light is a strategic asset you can’t ignore. But there’s more than power. I also think his personality fits the World Government’s needs: cool, detached, and not driven by ideology the way some admirals are. He doesn’t grandstand about justice or mercy—he performs orders with a kind of amused professionalism. That makes him reliable in a political sense, which matters as much as strength when promotions to admiral are on the line. So for me it’s a mix: unbeatable ability, tactical usefulness, and political reliability. Watching him in big set pieces always feels like seeing a blunt instrument that the Navy learned how to wield perfectly, and I kind of love that.

If you've ever been stopped by that slow, almost drawling delivery in 'One Piece', that's Borsalino — also known as Admiral Kizaru — and in the Japanese version he's voiced by Unshō Ishizuka. Ishizuka-san had this wonderfully laid-back, resonant baritone that made Kizaru feel effortless and strangely threatening at the same time. He brought a casual menace to big moments like Sabaody and Marineford, and his work across the series really stuck with me. He passed away in 2018, which hit a lot of fans hard, because his voice was so tied to the character. If you're curious, go back to early Marineford scenes and you'll hear exactly what I mean — the voice shapes that slow, almost amused pacing of the admiral.

Watching Kizaru in action always gives me that electric, popcorn-in-my-lap buzz — he’s the kind of character who makes you pause the episode and go, ‘Wait, what did I just see?’ The big, undeniable feat is his Pika Pika no Mi: he literally becomes light. That translates into movement and attack speed that most characters can’t track, plus lasers and beams that punch through ships, fortifications, and enemy formations with terrifying ease. Two concrete scenes stick with me. At the Sabaody Archipelago he showcases how casually lethal he is against the Supernovas and the Straw Hats; his mobility and ranged precision force the crew into desperate reactions. At 'Marineford' he’s another top-tier power tilting the battlefield—able to engage multiple high-ranking opponents, trade blows on a massive scale, and wreck the sea lanes. Beyond raw power, I love how his attacks combine range and surgical precision: he can blast entire areas or pick off an individual from a distance. He also mixes in smart battlefield sense — using light to reposition, scout, and harass simultaneously. What I keep thinking about after rewatching those arcs is the storytelling choice: Kizaru’s casual, almost bored demeanor makes the carnage feel colder. He’s not flashy like some villains who monologue; he’s efficient and unnervingly laid-back, which I find way scarier. Whenever he shows up I always watch with extra coffee because you know something big is about to get toasted.

I still get chills thinking about that first time Kizaru dropped into the scene. In the anime he’s introduced as Borsalino during the Sabaody Archipelago arc — you know the part where the atmosphere suddenly goes quiet and the big players start showing up. He arrives with that lazy, almost bored vibe, strolling on the waves and casually firing off those blinding light attacks from his Pika Pika no Mi. It’s a moment that instantly marks him as a different kind of threat. If you want the anime window, his first significant on-screen appearance is during the Sabaody episodes (roughly in the mid-to-late 300s to early 400s range, depending on how you count fillers). He’s there when the Admirals and the higher-ups of the Navy make themselves known — the scene with Silvers Rayleigh and the hush that follows is the give-away. I was watching that with friends late at night and we paused like five times to rewatch his entrance. If you’re tracking exact episode numbers for a rewatch, jump into the Sabaody Archipelago arc and you’ll find him lighting up the screen.

Honestly, the detail that always bugged me during re-reads of 'One Piece' is how little we actually know about Borsalino's early training. Eiichiro Oda never shows a flashback of where he learned to be a Marine, so there’s no canonical island or academy explicitly named as his training ground. From what I’ve pieced together in forums and late-night debates with friends, the safest thing to say is that his pre-Marines life is left vague on purpose — it makes his sudden calm, almost lazy menace feel more mysterious. Thinking like a fan, I tend to imagine him going through the equivalent of a Marine academy or intensive base training, the same pipeline many lower-ranked officers follow, then rising fast because of raw talent (and presumably a Devil Fruit). That said, there’s no published line in the manga, databooks, or 'SBS' columns that pins him to a specific training site. It’s one of those gaps that keeps us speculating — and comparing him to other admirals whose origins are also sketchy — which is half the fun. I still hope Oda gives us a little flashback someday, but until then, he’s delightfully unknowable to me.

Man, watching that flash of gold the first few times Kizaru shows up in 'One Piece' still gives me chills. He’s basically a human searchlight thanks to the Pika Pika no Mi, so most of his iconic attacks are variations on bending, firing, and moving as light. In fights you’ll see him unleash blinding, long-range laser-like beams that pierce ships and punch through lines of fighters, and those are used as straight sniping attacks when he wants to take someone out from far away. He also uses his light-state for superhuman mobility — think teleport-ish moves where he appears and disappears at the speed of light, creating afterimages and making his physical strikes feel instantaneous. Close combat often looks like glowing photon kicks and punches that hit harder because of the speed rather than raw brute force. During the Sabaody and Marineford arcs he alternates between ranged beam barrages and sudden blitzes, basically toggling between support sniping and single-target blitzes depending on the situation. What I like is how theatrical it feels: explosions of yellow light, people being knocked back by pure photons, and Kizaru’s laid-back posture like he’s casually playing with a toy. He doesn’t usually rely on flashy haki displays — his whole deal is making physics do the fighting for him. If you’re rewatching, keep an eye on how his beams are aimed: pinpoint shots for assassinations, broad sweeps for crowd control, and lightning-fast kicks/punches for duels. It’s polished and terrifying in equal measure.

One Piece' designates not a place in general, but rather that legendary wealth located in the Grand Line. This fabulous treasure is sought by all pirates in the world from Eiichiro Oda's popular manga converted interminable anime. It seems everyone is on Luffy's side You get addicted; it's that great. The show is a magnet for all anime fans.

As someone who's followed Eiichiro Oda's work for years, 'From One Piece to the Maltiverse' feels like an exciting expansion of the 'One Piece' universe. It doesn't retell the Straw Hat Pirates' journey but explores parallel dimensions hinted at in the original series. Characters like Luffy appear with altered backstories—imagine a version where he never met Shanks but still gained rubber powers through different means. The artwork maintains Oda's signature style while introducing fresh character designs that longtime fans will appreciate. Key elements like Devil Fruits and the World Government exist but operate under new rules, making it accessible yet surprising. The connections are subtle but rewarding for attentive readers, with Easter eggs referencing iconic moments from the main series.