{This chapter and few chapter ahead contains graphic and unsettling imagery involving body horror and grotesque art. Reader discretion is advised. }
-Broadcast-
What exactly was Franky doing during his solo adventure in Dressrosa? Among the Straw Hat Pirates, perhaps only Robin possessed the worldly knowledge to understand his destination—a place that held a particular appeal for certain types of men.
The crew's relationship with such establishments was... complicated, to say the least.
Luffy remained completely focused on his dream of becoming Pirate King, showing zero interest in romantic entanglements.
Zoro had always been married to his swords, and 5 years of training had only deepened that obsession.
As for Sanji... well, after his 5 year stay at the Kamabakka Kingdom, his definition of attraction had expanded considerably beyond traditional boundaries.
Brook, despite his gentlemanly nature, faced obvious anatomical limitations as a living skeleton.
Chopper and Marlin, being non-human, had no interest in human companionship of that variety.
And Usopp's heart belonged entirely to Kaya, waiting faithfully for him back in Syrup Village.
That left Franky as perhaps the only crew member who might seek such diversions, despite his mechanical nature.
The cyborg's transformation over the past 5 years had been more profound than most realized. His exposure to Vegapunk's advanced technology had fundamentally altered his relationship with his own humanity. Where once he had been a human enhanced by machines, he was now essentially a machine striving to remember what it meant to be human.
This philosophical crisis wasn't lost on Franky himself. He had observed Brook's approach to maintaining humanity—the skeleton continued to eat and drink despite being unable to process food, purely to preserve the rituals of his former life. If a pile of animated bones could maintain human dignity through behavior alone, then surely a sophisticated android could do the same.
After countless computational cycles—literally hundreds of millions of calculations—Franky's quantum brain had reached a conclusion: maintaining his eccentric personality and pursuing distinctly human experiences was essential to preserving whatever remained of his original self. And so, he found himself in the most notorious entertainment district of Dressrosa.
The Sky Screen's omniscient gaze followed Franky through the winding streets of Dressrosa's red-light district, where the Donquixote Family's influence had transformed what was once a respectable kingdom into a haven for every vice imaginable. Prostitution, gambling, and drug trafficking operated openly under Doflamingo's protection, with legitimate tourism serving merely as a facade to attract unsuspecting visitors.
The establishment Franky had chosen was the crown jewel of Dressrosa's adult entertainment: the La Casa de la Pasión. Operated directly by Diamante, one of Doflamingo's top executives, it boasted the most beautiful hostesses and hosts on the island, supplemented by exotic slaves purchased from the black market. The establishment prided itself on catering to any taste and any species, provided the customer could pay the exorbitant prices.
"The service here really is comprehensive," Franky mused aloud, his mechanical voice carefully modulated to match his old human patterns—another conscious effort to maintain his fading humanity. "Though I have to say, the prices are pretty steep."
"Oh, Franky-san, you're so cool!" chirped one of the bikini-clad hostesses flanking him.
"Yeah! We just love robots!" added her companion, though her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
Franky's advanced sensors easily detected the micro-expressions and subtle biological indicators that revealed their true feelings. These women found his metallic body cold and unsettling, but they were consummate professionals, and Bailey was Bailey. He chose not to expose their discomfort—maintaining the illusion was part of the human experience he was trying to preserve.
The private room had cost him a million Berries, and requesting two companions had doubled that expense. Most hostesses provided only conversation and light physical contact for the base fee—anything more intimate required significantly higher payments. The La Casa de la Pasión had never hosted a completely mechanical client before, and Franky's generous spending had overcome their initial hesitation.
Originally, no hostess had volunteered to serve the metal monster. The last time someone had been assigned to an unusual client—an particularly aggressive fishman—she'd spent six months recovering from the encounter. These two women were newcomers with little seniority and no power to refuse difficult assignments.
To their relief, Franky proved to be an ideal customer. He was content with simple conversation, gentle embraces, and chaste kisses, never using his mechanical advantages to make unreasonable demands. For two women accustomed to far worse treatment, he was practically a gentleman.
Recognizing his agreeable nature, one of the hostesses saw an opportunity for additional commission. "Franky-san, since this is your first visit, have you heard about our exclusive shows? They're held on special occasions, featuring the most beautiful dancers from around the world. I'm sure someone with your refined tastes would appreciate the artistry."
The commission on selling a ticket to the show was substantial, equivalent to a month's regular earnings. The minimum admission price of 100 million Berries reflected both the exclusivity and the quality of the performance. Fortunately, Franky maintained his own finances, having earned considerable income over the years selling his inventions. Unlike his crewmates, he didn't have to beg Nami for pocket money.
The show was essentially an upscale burlesque performance, featuring dancers who were often celebrities from various islands, seeking to monetize their fame through increasingly risqué performances. Previous shows had featured mermaids, long-arm tribe members, and other exotic entertainers. It was, by any reasonable definition, high-class voyeurism disguised as artistic expression.
Why not just call it what it is? Franky thought to himself, but his companions' enthusiasm was infectious enough that he found himself curious despite his cynicism.
"Well, if you lovely ladies recommend it so highly, I suppose I should take a look. I've got time to kill."
"Oh, Franky-san! You're the best!" squealed one of his companions, though he detected the practiced nature of her excitement.
The trio made their way toward the special venue, joining a stream of ostentatiously wealthy patrons. Gold jewelry glinted from every finger and wrist, marking these men as the kind who could casually spend more Berries in one evening than most people earned in a year.
As they walked, Franky's enhanced optics picked up an unusual sight among the crowd. "Interesting," he murmured. "I didn't know the La Casa de la Pasión welcomed polar bears. That's quite an inclusive policy."
The white-furred figure in question was accompanied by a hooded man whose posture and movement patterns seemed familiar. Franky's advanced recognition systems quickly processed the available data, cross-referencing it with his extensive criminal database.
A slow grin spread across his mechanical features as the identification came through. "Well, well... Trafalgar Law. One of the new Shichibukai, slumming it with the rest of us degenerates. This night just got a lot more interesting."
Around the world, Sky Screen viewers leaned forward as they recognized the distinctive spotted pants and nodachi sword that marked the infamous "Surgeon of Death." The revelation that one of the Seven Warlords was patronizing such an establishment sent ripples of shock and amusement through the watching crowds.
Franky maintained his distance, allowing his female companions to guide him while he observed the Heart Pirates' captain and his first mate. Whatever had brought Law to Dressrosa—and to this particular venue—was likely connected to larger schemes in motion. The cyborg's mechanical mind began calculating possibilities, even as he prepared to enjoy the evening's entertainment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Writing takes time, coffee, and a lot of love.If you'd like to support my work, join me at [email protected]/GoldenGarudaYou'll get early access to over 50 chapters, selection on new series, and the satisfaction of knowing your support directly fuels more stories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
