The footsteps that had been leaving came to a halt.
Sakazuki cast a glance at the frozen Nyon, then walked over to the shore and picked up the Den Den Mushi. Its ringing hadn't stopped. With a faint release of his Conqueror's Haki, he pressed it down upon her, leaving her unable to move or even speak.
Click.
He connected the call. From the other side came a voice filled with urgency, "I've already set out from here. What's the situation, Elder Nyon? You must hold Hancock back! That guy Sakazuki won't show any mercy. Elder Nyon? Can you hear me?"
Sakazuki looked at her again, then withdrew his Haki. His finger pointed straight at the shoulder where she had already lost an arm.
Whoosh!
An air bullet shot forward, bursting into another spray of blood.
"Ahhhhh!"
The shrill scream tore from her throat.
Crack!
The Den Den Mushi was crushed in Sakazuki's hand, shattered into pieces on the ground. A small laugh escaped him. "Interesting. Reinforcements, is it? Then there's no need to rush."
He turned his gaze toward the entrance of Amazon Lily. A large number of warriors were charging forward.
The air grew thick with murderous intent as surging waves of Conqueror's Haki spread outward, layer upon layer pressing down over the island. It struck at the nerves of both warriors and civilians, and one by one, they collapsed like stalks of wheat cut in the field.
"Quiet now," he said coldly as his eyes fell back on Nyon, who was still struggling. "For the sake of this island's future, don't make a mistake. Don't even think about sending a word. Stay here quietly."
* * *
Sabaody Archipelago.
On a small speedboat that had just departed, Shakky listened to the screams from the Den Den Mushi. The sound of Nyon's agony made her heart sink. Then, the line went completely dead.
"Damn it..."
There was no time to think. She abandoned the boat altogether, stepping into the air with practiced technique and rushing directly toward Amazon Lily.
* * *
East Blue, Foosha Village.
Inside Partys Bar, the Red Hair Pirates were drinking and laughing.
Lucky Roux and Benn Beckman were trading heavy blows like it was a game, while the rest cheered and jeered around them.
At the bar counter, a young boy in a white shirt grinned from ear to ear, his eyes fixed on Shanks, who was drinking at ease.
"Shanks!" the boy shouted. "I want to be a pirate!"
Shanks sighed, shaking his head. "Every single day. You're relentless. Pirates aren't something to play at, kid."
The boy, eyes full of longing, answered quickly, "But they say pirates are strong, fun, and free!"
Shanks turned to his crew, exasperated. "Oi, who's the one filling his head with nonsense again?"
Instantly, Lucky Roux and Beckman stopped their fight, reappearing at their seats as though nothing had happened. They stuffed food into their mouths, avoiding his gaze.
The boy's excitement didn't fade. "Give me a crew test today too!"
Behind the counter, a younger Makino smiled helplessly. "Again? Luffy, you should probably give it up by now."
But the boy puffed his chest, determined. "I'll pass this time, for sure!"
* * *
In the government's secret prison.
A tall man, his entire body covered in wounds, was chained inside. His suit hung in tatters, barely clinging to his frame. Many injuries had rotted without treatment, showing he had been left like this for a long time.
This was Who's Who, the CP9 agent who had failed to escort the Gum-Gum Fruit.
He had known his fate would be grim, but he had never imagined it would come to this. After rescuers arrived, they hadn't tried to heal him. Instead, they slapped chains on him immediately and dragged him into endless torture.
Only sheer willpower had kept him alive until now. But even his strength was nearly gone. His mind drifted in and out, muddled and half-conscious.
The prison guard at the door sneered at the sight of him. "Tell me, what are you even holding out for? Wouldn't it be easier to just die already? Damn bastard. Because of you, I've lost my vacation this month. You really think someone's coming to save you?"
The word 'save' broke through the haze in Who's Who's mind. His lips moved weakly. "Save... me… save me..."
The guard casually picked up a whip and lashed out.
Crack! Crack!
Fresh wounds split open across his skin.
"Idiot! Who's going to save you? You should have died long ago. You're praying for rescue? Hah. If you're going to beg for help, better off praying to the Sun God, Nika. They say long ago, slaves believed in him. They thought a god called Nika would free them, bring them smiles and freedom from suffering. Go on then. Pray all you want, bastard. Maybe it'll work."
Crack! Crack!
Whipping him for a while, the guard lost interest after Who's Who passed out once more. He tossed the whip aside and went off to eat.
Time blurred. When Who's who awoke, he clung to that single name.
"Nika… If you can save me... anyone... just save me..."
* * *
That night, the same guard who had mocked him boasted drunkenly about it to his comrades.
None of them noticed the captain passing by. His pupils shrank, his gaze turning ice cold as he caught every word.
* * *
Holy Land of Mariejois.
The Five Elders gathered, a written interrogation report laid across the table. It contained the prison guard's testimony, detailing exactly what he had said to Who's Who.
Mars flipped through the report with a frown. "Was this really just a coincidence? A CP9 agent who lost the fruit carrying Nika's will... and a guard suddenly tells him to pray to the Sun God? This is absurd."
Warcury shook his head. "Probably coincidence. The fruit wasn't eaten by him anyway."
But Mars' frown deepened. "It's the timing that bothers me..."
Nusjuro adjusted his glasses. "Then kill them all. Once they're dead, the matter will be clear."
* * *
Back in the secret prison, Who's Who was still praying.
Ever since that guard had told him about Nika, the man had disappeared. A new one replaced him, who behaved properly. For several days, there had been no more whippings. As a result, his strength had recovered slightly. His mind was clearer.
He thought perhaps the Sun God had really shown mercy. His prayers became constant, without a pause.
Until one night, a man who looked like a squad captain spoke briefly to the new guard. Before leaving, his eyes fell on Who's Who.
That single look froze him inside. He knew it too well. It was the gaze reserved for the dead.
Moments later, the guard left.
A cold realization dawned. Everything had changed the day he heard that story… Was it forbidden knowledge? And now that he had heard it...
His nerves flared with danger, dragging him fully awake. He had no more hope of rescue. Escape was the only path left.
He steadied his breath, gathering what remained of his power into his head. A strand of his hair began to grow longer as his body thinned.
That strand writhed, slipping into the keyhole of his chains.
Footsteps approached.
The guard returned, carrying something in his hand.
Clatter!
The chains dropped to the ground as the guard stiffened in shock, but Who's Who didn't give him a chance to react.
With every ounce of strength, he lunged and drove a finger into the man's throat. Before the blood could spray, he sank his teeth into the wound like a beast.
Hot blood rushed into his mouth, searing his throat. Strength flowed back into his limbs.
A while later…
A pale, lifeless corpse lay on the floor, bled dry, stripped of its clothes. And a figure dressed in a guard's uniform pushed open the door and vanished.
"I will live..."
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