Black Maria raised her hand like a machine, stabbing until Uzuki Tempura's body was reduced to pulp, no longer making a sound, and only then did she stop blankly.
Black Maria collapsed into the pool of blood, staring at Uzuki Tempura in a daze.
She had killed someone.
She had never thought she would kill a person.
But killing someone who tried to force her didn't seem as difficult as she had imagined?
That Uzuki Tempura who once seemed unbeatable, didn't seem so strong after all?
As long as the dagger pierced into his body, he would feel pain, he would scream, and then death would come.
Those screams, strangely, even sounded pleasing to the ear.
"Does it feel like breaking free of chains?", Rosse's unhurried voice sounded behind her.
"Yes...", Black Maria answered instinctively.
"But he was a daimyo. You've only broken the first shackle. Have you thought about what comes next?", Rosse asked softly.
"I don't want to be bullied anymore...", Black Maria pressed her lips together and spoke her heart.
"If you don't want to be bullied, have you prepared yourself?", Rosse countered.
Black Maria lifted her head. That face, washed by blood and tears, carried a breathtaking, demonic allure.
In those eyes was the bewilderment of a cub after killing its first prey, the emptiness of shattering all chains, and deeper still, a flicker of excitement glowing faintly like embers in ash.
Looking at her face, Rosse knew he had not chosen wrong.
This flower struggling up from the filthiest mud could only bloom into its most shocking beauty if nourished with blood.
Maria's lips moved. Her throat was dry, and the sound she made was like a kitten's whimper. Fragile, yet stubbornly unyielding.
In this place, every man who looked at her did so as if she were an object to be toyed with. But the man before her was different. His gaze felt strange, even warm and safe.
Yet she dared not trust anyone anymore. Summoning all her strength, she asked the one question that determined her future fate, like a drowning person clutching at the last straw, "Will you bully me?"
At last, a faint smile appeared on Rosse's face. Not tenderness, but the recognition of finding his own kind, "No. I need you."
"Come, follow me."
"From now on, everyone who tries to bully you, whoever they are, will end up like him."
He pointed at the lump of flesh that was Uzuki Tempura, then extended his hand to Black Maria, as if offering some invitation.
Black Maria sat collapsed on the ground, her head tilted back, her enchanting eyes fixed on Rosse. On that steady face, appreciative smile that never changed.
Time seemed frozen.
The decadent lights and shadows of the brothel, the sweet and rotting stench in the air, all became silent background.
They looked at each other. Rosse wasn't in a hurry, just smiling as he gazed at her.
Suddenly, she smiled.
That smile bloomed on her bloodstained face with a near-childlike purity, like a child receiving their long-desired gift for the first time. Yet beneath that purity lurked a chill that made one's spine crawl.
Slowly, with an almost solemn gesture, Black Maria stretched out her small, dirty, bloodstained hand, gently but with unwavering resolve, placing it into Rosse's broad and warm hand.
'So warm, so reassuring...'
Black Maria said nothing, but within her, a brand-new world erupted into existence.
In her short and humiliating life, this was the first time someone's gaze toward her wasn't lu*st, wasn't calculation, but... Need.
He didn't need her body as a plaything, but her potential as a person.
To be needed by him, was her honor.
Black Maria savored the warmth in her palm, her eyes greedily lingering on Rosse's face.
From this moment, Rosse became her only god.
Wherever he pointed, whatever he commanded, glory or hell, so long as he still needed this blade freshly stained with blood, she would cut down everything for him.
And just as the two reached their silent understanding, the people in the brothel noticed the incident.
The brothel Gion had chosen was one of the largest in the Flower Capital.
To reach that size naturally required considerable armed strength.
In less than a minute, both ends of the corridor were blocked by warriors. On one side, Uzuki Tempura's retainers; on the other, the brothel's own men.
"You actually killed Daimyo Uzuki?"
"Damn you! You're finished!"
"Surrender now! You won't get out of this brothel alive!"
"..."
Their shouting was loud, but none dared to move, every eye fixed warily on Rosse and the others.
Though the daimyo title was hereditary, passed through many generations, each heir was strong, power begot power, and so none of them were weak.
Uzuki Tempura might not have been one of Wano's very strongest, but he was still a renowned swordsman of the country, capable of slaughtering them all alone.
Yet now he had been butchered here, without even managing a real resistance, proving just how powerful Rosse and his companions were.
Faced with such a foe, no one wanted to rush up to their deaths.
"Do you see?", Rosse gently pulled Black Maria to her feet. She truly was gifted. Though only ni*ne, her height was already nearly equal to his.
Once fully grown, she might not be shorter than Kaido or Whitebeard.
Being short didn't mean low talent, but being tall always meant high talent. That was the law of this world.
Giants could reach an ordinary person's limit without training. Black Maria might not be a giant, but if trained from childhood, paired with a top-tier Mythical Zoan fruit, she might just cross into the realm of top powerhouses.
Rosse didn't lack Devil Fruits. What he lacked were loyal genius seeds.
And today, having met Black Maria, he felt she was worthy of consideration.
Black Maria, puzzled, looked at the surrounding warriors, not understanding what Rosse wanted her to see.
Seeing her confusion, Rosse smiled slightly, leaned close, and whispered in her ear, "Look at their fear. Look at how they see you now. Those who once never gave you a proper glance, because you killed the man they saw as high above, now look at you differently, even fearfully."
"They fear you."
Black Maria's expression grew hazy. Half leaning on Rosse, she greedily breathed in his scent.
Compared to their fearful gazes, it was Rosse's smell that intoxicated her most.
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