A groan, raw and feeble, escaped Luffy's lips as consciousness reluctantly returned. The world swam into focus not as the starry void of the Soul Plane, but as the grim, blood-soaked reality of the execution pit. An immense, crushing weight pressed down on him, pinning his broken body to the cold stone. Every attempt to move a muscle was met with searing agony and utter futility. His limbs felt like lead, refusing to obey his commands. A dull, throbbing ache pounded behind his eyes, a relentless reminder of the poison still coursing through his veins, corrupting him from within. His thoughts were murky, sluggish, like trying to wade through thick mud.
Can't… move… he thought, each mental word an effort. So… heavy… Everything hurts…
Through the haze of pain and toxins, his survival instinct screamed at him to find help. His eyes, the only part of him that seemed to respond with any semblance of control, scanned the chaotic periphery of the pit. Nobles and their children laughed and jeered as they tormented the other broken souls cast aside here. And then he saw them. Two faces he recognized from the past few days.
The first was Princess Vivi of Alabasta. He'd seen her on the first day of the Reverie, her face a mask of heartbreak and horror as she witnessed the suffering within this very pit, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her heart seemed true, her compassion evident.
The second was Reiju, the eldest daughter of the Vinsmoke family. He'd seen her on the second day, standing aloof with her brothers as they amused themselves by tormenting slaves. While her siblings actively participated in the cruelty, she had merely watched from a distance, her expression unreadable.
His first instinct was to call out to Vivi. She seemed kind. But the thought died as quickly as it was born. What could he offer her? He had information about Crocodile's plot against her kingdom, but revealing it here, in this den of vipers, was far too dangerous. If the wrong ears heard, it could spell immediate doom for her and her entire family. Crocodile would surely silence them all to protect his secret.
That left only one option: Reiju. He knew her brother, Sanji. He knew the cook was alive and well, contrary to whatever story Judge Vinsmoke had spun. That knowledge was his only bargaining chip, his only chance at survival. He had to get her attention. He had to make her listen. Summoning every last ounce of his will, he fixed his gaze on the woman with pink hair, a silent, desperate plea burning in his eyes.
Reiju Vinsmoke was having a wretched week. The Reverie—a grand meeting held every four years where monarchs from across the world gathered to decide the fate of the world—was nothing but a farce in her eyes.
'What a joke!' she sneered internally, watching her brothers and several other princes torture slaves to impress the attending princesses, herself included. The nobles didn't care about their own people, let alone the world. They only sought more power for their families, and one of the primary methods to achieve that, aside from war, was through marriage. As the sole princess of Germa Kingdom, she had no shortage of suitors—most of them morally corrupt, disgusting, and utterly vile, like the one currently boasting before her.
She had attended two previous Reveries, and each was a nightmare. The first time she was only twelve, yet already being courted for her family's power. The numbers swelled at the next event when she was sixteen. Now, at twenty, the number of men vying for her family's favor had skyrocketed. She was forced to smile sweetly at them, no matter how repulsive their behavior, and reject their proposals in a non-hostile manner.
"See how strong I am?!" an idiotic prince bragged, snapping the already broken arm of a slave as if it were the most impressive feat, and she smiled as if impressed.
She, her brothers, and other noble children were in the slave execution pit, "playing" with the discarded—the nearly dead, broken, hollow-eyed slaves thrown here for being useless. The Pit was a dumping ground for anything deemed worthless and a grim reminder to all attending kingdoms of a certain incident.
A West Blue nation had defied the World Government decades ago. At the next Reverie, the entire royal family of that nation, including the children, were publicly beaten and thrown into the pit, replaced by a new royal family. The old family was branded traitors over unrelated charges and sentenced to death by the Celestial Dragons. Everyone knew it was a setup; they were killed for opposing the World Nobles, deemed useless, and discarded. Since then, the pit served as an unspoken threat to all kingdoms: oppose the World Nobles, and you too will be deemed useless and share the fate of the slaves within.
Most nobles didn't care, never intending to oppose the Dragons anyway. Many of the younger generation, like those with her now, treated the pit merely as a playground. They considered breaking the bones of someone who couldn't fight back a superhuman achievement worthy of praise.
Reiju sighed inwardly, her eyes scanning the pit. Some nobles looked on in horror, a few even tried talking to the slaves, but all the poor souls here were unresponsive. They had been through too much and had given up on life, yearning only for the sweet release of death.
She refocused on the idiotic prince as he began bragging about owning a thousand slaves, nodding and smiling as if impressed and interested. She heard her own brothers boasting about their methods of torture to impress other princesses. She had been near them for weeks and was utterly exhausted by their presence.
A cruel father and three equally cruel brothers were her family. Back in Germa, she could avoid them by sequestering herself in her castle, claiming to be conducting poison experiments. But here, at the Reverie, she was forced to spend an inordinate amount of time near them and others of their ilk.
"Why don't you join in? Break that one's neck! It's fun!" the idiotic prince interrupted her thoughts, pointing at another slave with a gleeful grin.
"I prefer not to dirty my hands," Reiju replied with a practiced smile. "I'm more of a poison enthusiast, you know."
"Yeah, yeah!" Yonji chimed in happily. "You should see how some of her poisons work! It's amazing to watch people suffer!"
"Oh, is that so!" the prince nodded in understanding. "So you really are the Poison Pink!"
"Hehehe, yes," Reiju giggled, pretending to enjoy the compliment.
She had to maintain her facade. Smile when a prince made a lewd comment. Smile when her brothers behaved similarly. Laugh at their disgusting jokes. Laugh when they showed off their slaves. She hated them all, but outwardly, she had to pretend to adore the luxurious lifestyle, the elitist mindset, the slavery, the torture. Smiling and laughing… she was so tired of it all.
She just wanted to get away, but she couldn't. She wanted to escape like her one sane brother had, but she knew her father too well. Judge valued her too much to let her go. He would send troops after her. The only true escape would be through death.
After all, as much as she hated it, she was a monster who followed her father's every order without hesitation. Whether it was torturing and killing one person or a group, she did it. A cold, cruel monster who could kill a child without a second thought if ordered. So, in the end, she was just like her father and brothers. Only on quiet nights did she allow herself to feel and cry herself to sleep, remembering the chaos she had wrought and the blood on her hands. But in front of everyone, she was a stone-cold monster who enjoyed torturing others with her poisons.
As her brothers continued their "games" and she laughed along, her instincts flared. She felt a sharp, intense gaze upon her.
Reiju's senses prickled. It was a gaze unlike any other in the pit—not vacant, not pleading, but intensely focused. She looked around, her trained eyes scanning for the source, half-expecting an assassin or a rival. Instead, her eyes landed on a young man lying amidst the filth and broken bodies.
He was on his back, his face turned towards her. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, burned into her soul. He was a mess of injuries; dried and fresh blood caked his body, forming a grisly mud over countless open wounds. He was shirtless, his blue shorts torn to near shreds. One hand clutched a straw hat protectively. But it was his eyes that held her captive. They held a firm, unyielding resolve, a fierce will to live that was utterly absent in everyone else here. And they were fixed directly on her.
A flicker of intrigue, a rare emotion these days, stirred within her. She began walking towards him, her steps measured. As she drew nearer, she saw the corner of his mouth twitch upwards slightly.
'Is he... smiling?' The thought was so absurd it deepened her interest. She observed him more carefully. His face was smeared with dried blood, his skin bearing a sickly purplish hue where it was visible. Poisoned, she concluded clinically, finally stopping before him. A slow-acting, painful variant, by the looks of it.
The young man continued to stare, that faint smile still playing on his lips. His mouth began to tremble, struggling to form words. Whether it was the poison paralyzing him or sheer exhaustion, sound wouldn't come. Reiju simply waited, her expression neutral, curious to see what he would do.
"P-Please..." he finally managed to murmur, the word barely a whisper yet laden with a desperation that was strangely active, not passive.
She was slightly taken aback. He was the first person in these pits who didn't seem to have given up. And he had specifically sought her attention. Yet, sentimentality was a luxury she couldn't afford. She had a role to play. Deciding this was a waste of time, she started to turn away, preparing to rejoin the grotesque spectacle behind her.
But before she could take a full step, his voice, strained but clearer, cut through the air. "S-S-Sanji... I-I know..."
She froze. Her entire body went rigid. Her head snapped back towards him, her eyes wide with sheer, unadulterated shock. 'Did he just say Sanji?!'
She could still see the defiant light in his eyes, but uttering those two words seemed to have consumed the last of his energy. His eyelids fluttered, slowly beginning to close. Panic, cold and sharp, lanced through her—a feeling she hadn't experienced in years. She surged forward, grabbing the collar of his ragged shorts and hauling his upper body off the ground, bringing his face level with hers.
"What did you just say?!" she whispered, her voice low and urgent, devoid of its usual playful cadence.
The man—no, the boy—could only stare back with half-lidded eyes, his lips quivering as he fought against the encroaching darkness. "K-Know... S-San..." he breathed out before his eyes finally slid shut, his body going limp in her grasp.
'He knows Sanji?!' Reiju's mind raced. She needed to hear more. She needed answers. But he was unconscious, teetering on the brink of death. The poison was finishing its work. She couldn't let him die. Not now.
Without a second thought, her decision was made. She had to save him. Hoisting his surprisingly light frame over her shoulder, she began walking purposefully towards the docking area where the Germa 66 ships were moored.
"What are you doing?" Yonji's voice suddenly sounded beside her, making her start slightly. She had been so focused she'd forgotten her surroundings. Thankfully, years of deception allowed her to school her features into perfect neutrality instantly.
Without missing a beat, she lied, her voice dripping with feigned scientific curiosity, "I'm taking this one back to the ship. The poison in his system should have killed him instantly, but he seems to have survived for days. I need to run some tests on him..."
Yonji merely shrugged, completely accepting the explanation. "Whatever. Hurry back." He turned away, already bored, and rejoined their brothers. Reiju didn't wait. She quickly excused herself and hurried towards their ship, the boy's weight a constant reminder of the tantalizing secret he held. She prayed he wouldn't die before she could get her answers.
The sterile, metallic environment of her private lab aboard the Germa ship was a stark contrast to the chaotic filth of the execution pit. Reiju laid the unconscious boy on her operating table, locking the door securely behind her. Her first priority was the poison.
In the attached washroom, she placed his head under a faucet, letting cool water flow over his face as she wiped away the grime and blood with a cloth. The purplish tint to his skin was even more evident under the bright lights. Without ceremony, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, her unique ability activating. She began to suck the venom from his body.
For a full minute, she worked, drawing the deadly toxin into herself. Her modified genetics handled it with ease, breaking it down into harmless components. She recognized the poison's distinct, bitter taste—a specialty blend designed for a slow, agonizing death over several days. 'Tasty,' she thought absently, a habit born from her twisted upbringing, as she finally pulled away and exhaled a wisp of neutralized gas.
With the immediate threat neutralized, his complexion began to improve, slowly returning to a more natural, though pale, tone. Only then did she truly take in the extent of his injuries. She saw the network of scars, some old and silvery, others fresh and angry red. Burns, puncture wounds, poorly healed broken bones, and the distinct chafe marks of seastone cuffs. She winced, a rare pang of something akin to pity striking her. This boy had endured months, if not longer, of relentless torture.
Pushing the feeling aside, she set to work with clinical efficiency. She cleaned his wounds, sutured the deepest gashes, and applied antiseptic and bandages. The process took nearly an hour. When she was finished, she laid him back down on the table, his chest rising and falling in a steady, peaceful rhythm for the first time since she'd found him.
Exhausted, Reiju sank into a chair, finally allowing herself to process the situation. A random, discarded slave had specifically attracted her attention and uttered the one name she never expected to hear again.
Her mind, trained in strategy and deception, began running through possibilities. Was it a coincidence? Had he merely overheard the name somewhere? The intensity in his eyes suggested otherwise. Was he sent by Sanji? The idea was quickly dismissed. No one would willingly endure such torture just for a chance to deliver a message. There were far simpler methods.
A spy, then? Perhaps from CP or a rival nation. The boy's severe injuries could be a calculated ploy to lower her guard, to make his story seem more believable. But to what end? To reveal that Sanji was alive? Who would care? Judge had publicly disowned him. The information was useless as blackmail. Her father wouldn't pay a single berry for Sanji's return or silence.
She leaned back, massaging her temples. Every theory felt flimsy, stretched too thin. The variables didn't align. The boy was an enigma. Frustration gnawed at her. She had no answers, only a growing, desperate need to know the truth behind that single uttered name.
With a sigh, she accepted he wouldn't wake up soon. She couldn't afford to look desperate or intrigued. If this was a trap, she needed to appear indifferent. For now, all she could do was wait. She retrieved a book on advanced toxicology from a shelf and settled onto a sofa, forcing her eyes to scan the pages while her attention remained entirely fixed on the boy sleeping on her lab table.
Time lost meaning. Luffy's consciousness swam up from a deep, dark well. The first thing he noticed was the absence of the searing, poison-fueled agony that had been his constant companion. It was replaced by a dull, pervasive ache that throbbed in time with his heartbeat. He groaned, blinking several times, his vision blurry. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, trying to clear the haze.
The ceiling that greeted him was unfamiliar—smooth, metallic, and cold. With a grunt of effort, he tried to push himself up to a sitting position. It was then he felt the cold, unyielding resistance around his wrists. His hands were bound by sturdy manacles, the chains bolted to the wall behind the table he was lying on.
'Huh? Chained up?' He looked around, taking in the strange, intimidating room filled with bizarre equipment and vials of colorful liquids. His gaze then fell on the woman with pink hair seated on a sofa across the room, deeply engrossed in a large book. She seemed unaware of his awakening. He also noticed the clean bandages wrapped around his torso and arms.
'It worked...' he thought, a wave of pure relief washing over him. 'Reiju saved me. The plan actually worked!'
Just as a triumphant grin began to spread across his face, Reiju closed her book with a definitive snap. She had noticed his movement. She placed the book aside and stood up, walking towards him with a calm, measured pace that felt more threatening than any charge. Her heels clicked softly on the metal floor.
Luffy, ever friendly and seemingly oblivious to the tension, offered a weak but genuine smile. "H-Hi," he said, awkwardly raising his shackled hands in a clumsy attempt at a wave.
Reiju ignored his greeting entirely. She stopped before him, her gaze cool, analytical, and utterly devoid of warmth. "So," she began, her voice flat. "Who are you?"
"Me?" Luffy replied, his signature grin finally breaking through despite his weakened state and the shackles. "I'm Monkey D. Luffy! The man who's gonna be King of the Pirates! Nice to meet ya!"
"You're a pirate?" Reiju asked, a faint flicker of surprise crossing her otherwise impassive features. Her eyes scanned him again, as if reassessing the battered, chained boy before her.
"Ah, well, I haven't started my journey yet," Luffy clarified cheerfully, as if discussing the weather. "I'm gonna set sail when I'm seventeen!"
Reiju's patience, already thin, evaporated. She cut straight to the heart of the matter, her voice sharp. "Why did you say 'Sanji'?" His dreams of piracy were irrelevant. She needed answers about her brother.
Luffy looked thoughtful for a moment, his head tilting. "I was half-conscious back then. What exactly did I say?"
"You said, 'Please,' 'Know,' and 'Sanji'," Reiju recited precisely, her eyes locked onto his, watching for the slightest twitch, the smallest hint of deception.
"Hmm, so that's what I managed to say," Luffy mused, seemingly pleased with himself for getting that much out despite the poison. "Well, what I was trying to say was... 'Please, help me. I'll tell you about Sanji. I know him.'"
"You know my dead little brother?" Reiju's voice was like ice, her eyes dead and cold as she delivered the family's official lie, her stare intensifying, trying to shatter his story.
Luffy's grin vanished instantly, replaced by a look of pure, unfiltered panic. 'Dead little brother?!' The knowledge he'd gained from Kevin's memories screamed that this was wrong. Sanji was supposed to be alive right now, working at the Baratie! For a terrifying second, he wondered if he was in some alternate universe where Sanji had truly died.
But then he remembered the story Kevin knew: Judge had declared Sanji dead for showing no enhanced abilities, but in truth, he'd been imprisoned and later allowed to escape on the condition he never reveal his Vinsmoke lineage. That was the "truth" the world knew.
"You're lying," Luffy blurted out, his tone shifting to one of impatient, absolute certainty. The chains rattled as he leaned forward as far as they would allow. "He's not dead. I know him."
Reiju's frown deepened, the cold mask cracking for a microsecond to reveal sheer, unadulterated shock beneath. The boy's immediate, adamant denial wasn't the reaction of a spy following a script or a desperate slave grasping at straws. He stated it as undeniable, simple fact. The game she thought she was playing had suddenly changed, and she was no longer holding all the cards. The mysterious boy held a piece of her past she thought was forever buried, and she was now utterly determined to pry it from him.