Inside Orochi's mansion, candlelight flickered against the walls, stretching his terrified, twisted face into something even more grotesque.
Orochi let out a broken laugh, half relief, half madness. "What did you just say?! Lord Kaido… ran away?!"
His hand trembled so hard that the sake cup he lifted rattled against his teeth. Not a drop reached his mouth.
One of his retainers knelt low, forehead pressed to the floor. "Yes, my lord. It's true. The Beasts Pirates have completely withdrawn from Onigashima. Kaido took flight in his dragon form and vanished into the clouds."
"What?!"
Orochi kicked the man with such force that he rolled across the tatami. The shattering of porcelain teacups scattered across the floor echoed in the silence.
The markings of the Yamata-no-Orochi fruit began to ripple across Orochi's skin, his neck thickening as scales threatened to break through. His power strained at the surface.
"How could he… how could he abandon me?!"
He stumbled backward, collapsing to the floor, cold sweat soaking through his kimono.
"It's over. All over…"
He knew very well the caliber of men now coming for him.
Ritter. Whitebeard. Just one of them alone could crush him like an insect. Together? There would be no escape.
"No… I can't sit here waiting to die…"
Frantic, he tore through drawers and cabinets until he found what he was looking for: a den den mushi hidden inside a false panel. His fingers shook as he dialed.
"Hello?! It's me! Prepare a ship immediately. I'm leaving Wano tonight!"
His retainers scrambled to gather piles of gold and jewels. Orochi, meanwhile, discarded his robes of power and donned the plain attire of a traveling merchant, hoping the disguise would shield him.
As he rushed toward a hidden passage, Ritter's mocking voice seemed to echo in his mind: What do you think this is, some children's cartoon? A hat and a coat won't make me blind.
"Hurry! Faster!" Orochi hissed, peering nervously toward the mist that was seeping through the windows, certain at any moment it would turn crimson with Ritter's blood fog.
A loyal retainer dared to suggest, "My lord, should we not take the hostages with us? Perhaps they could "
"Fools!" Orochi struck him across the face. "Our only concern now is survival!"
For all his years of grasping for power, Orochi had only ever thrived by leaning on Kaido's strength and exploiting Oden's mercy. Ritter was no Oden. He could not be tricked or manipulated.
Still, Orochi clung to the thought that once he escaped Wano, the vast fortune he had plundered would secure him a comfortable life elsewhere.
But just as they reached the back passage
"Well, well. Isn't this the great 'Shogun' of Wano?"
The taunting voice froze him mid-step. He lifted his head, dread crawling up his spine.
At the far end of the corridor, blood mist thickened, swallowing the candlelight.
Outside, the night air stilled.
And then
"BOOM!"
The mansion's main doors exploded inward, splinters and rubble showering the hall like rain.
Two figures strode in side by side.
On the left Whitebeard. His white cloak billowed like a banner of war, the legendary naginata, Murakumogiri, dragging against the stone floor with sparks. Each heavy step shook the earth itself. His Conqueror's Haki surged like a tsunami, snuffing out every flame.
"Gurararara…" His laugh rolled like thunder. "So you're Orochi, eh? And where exactly did you think you were going?"
On the right Ritter.
His crimson cloak pulsed with writhing mist, the Black Tide greatsword resting across his shoulder. His scarlet eyes gleamed in the dark as he grinned.
"Evening, Shogun." His voice dripped with mockery. With a flick of his hand, blood fog coiled and lashed out, pinning Orochi's fleeing retainers to the walls like insects. "Late-night strolls are dangerous, don't you think?"
Two demons at the gate. The scene was nothing short of apocalyptic.
Panic consumed Orochi. His human form split and twisted as the Yamata-no-Orochi fully emerged, eight heads writhing and hissing yet not one dared to roar. His voice caught in his throat.
From outside, flickers of Marco's azure flames lit the courtyard, while Enel's lightning cracked across the night, turning it bright as day. The floor beneath Orochi's knees turned molten gold, and shadows warped unnaturally, sealing every possible escape.
"I I am the Shogun!" Orochi stammered, his words rasping as Ritter's mist constricted his throat. "Wano needs me!"
His eyes darted desperately toward Whitebeard, and in a flash of false inspiration, he flung himself down in supplication. Whitebeard was famous for adopting 'sons.' Perhaps, Orochi thought, if Ritter would not listen, then Whitebeard might.
"Whitebeard! Father!" Orochi prostrated himself, slamming his forehead against the golden floor until blood smeared his brow. "You must believe me! Kaido forced me into this! I was his puppet, nothing more!"
Ritter raised a brow, openly amused. Oh, this is rich, he thought.
Orochi's words spilled faster, his voice cracking. "I saved countless citizens in secret, I swear! If you let me live, I'll dedicate myself to restoring the Kozuki family to power! I even know Kaido's weakness his Devil Fruit flaw! Please, just listen!"
For a moment, Whitebeard's silence stretched long, his deep-set eyes fixed on the groveling man before him.
Hope flickered in Orochi's heart. He pressed on, sobbing, dragging himself to Whitebeard's boots.
"Father! Spare me and I'll "
"Gurararara…" The laugh returned, deeper, shaking the mansion to its foundations. Whitebeard bent forward, shadows cutting across his face, his presence alone suffocating.
"Boy…" His voice rolled like thunder. "Do you even know who I am?"
Orochi's pupils shrank.
"I sailed alongside Kozuki Oden." Whitebeard's hand closed around Orochi's throat, lifting his entire body effortlessly into the air. "He was my brother!"
"CRACK!"
The sound of Orochi's neck snapping echoed as his eight heads screamed in unison.
Ritter winced and lazily picked at his ear. "Hey, hey, Newgate-ossan, don't kill him yet. His head's still reserved for Oden, remember?"
Whitebeard gave a low grunt and tossed Orochi aside like a broken doll.
The false shogun slumped to the ground, his monstrous form sagging, eight heads drooping lifelessly. His bluster was gone.
With a metallic clatter, Tesoro's golden chains snapped tight around him, binding his limbs until he resembled nothing more than a trussed-up offering.
"Come on, 'Shogun.'" Tesoro's smile was sharp as a blade. "Your master is waiting."
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