-Broadcast-
The divine power faded like morning mist, leaving behind only a lingering warmth in the air. Chopper lay unconscious on the scorched earth, but something fundamental had changed within him. Though he hadn't consciously sought it, his soul now bore the indelible mark of a believer—a faint, otherworldly aura woven into the very fabric of his being. Whether blessing or curse, it would follow him for the rest of his days.
Sanji adjusted the frills of his dress, feeling the oppressive presence finally lift from the underground chamber. The mysterious energy that had paralyzed them moments ago had dissipated completely. Without hesitation, he turned to Robin, his expression softening despite the garish makeup. "Let me help you up."
His telekinetic mastery allowed him to lift them both effortlessly, their bodies rising through the gaping hole above like dancers in an invisible current. As they ascended toward the surface, the temperature climbed steadily, and the acrid smell of superheated air burned their nostrils.
Nothing could have prepared them for the devastation that greeted them.
"Mon Dieu..." Sanji breathed, his painted lips parting in shock.
The landscape had been reduced to absolute nothingness. Where buildings once stood, only flat expanses of fused stone remained. The very ground had been transformed into glass in places, reflecting the harsh sunlight like a mirror. Every living thing—trees, grass, insects—had been vaporized in an instant. The air itself shimmered with residual heat, distorting their vision as waves of warmth radiated from the scorched earth.
"What terrifying power," Sanji whispered, his voice carrying a mixture of awe and dread. "To think a Devil Fruit ability could create such a devastating weapon... This is beyond anything I've seen."
Robin's eyes swept across the desolate wasteland, her archaeological mind cataloging the destruction with clinical precision. Entire city blocks had been flattened as though a god's hammer had struck the earth. The blast radius extended far beyond what should have been possible for a single ability.
Then she spotted a small figure collapsed near the epicenter.
"Chopper!" Robin rushed forward, her legs carrying her across the still-warm ground. But as she drew closer, another sight made her freeze.
Baby 5 knelt before the unconscious reindeer, her mechanical arms hanging limp at her sides. Blood trickled from a crack in her skull, staining her maid uniform crimson. Yet despite her obvious injuries, she remained in a posture of absolute reverence—head bowed, palms pressed together as if in prayer. Her glassy eyes stared at Chopper with the fervent devotion of a zealot gazing upon their deity.
"What in the world...?" Robin knelt beside Chopper, carefully moving Baby 5 aside. The Donquixote Family officer didn't resist, merely swaying slightly before resuming her worshipful position. The sight sent a chill down Robin's spine despite the oppressive heat.
Gently, Robin gathered Chopper into her arms, her fingers running through his fur as she checked for injuries. Her brow furrowed in confusion. The wounds she'd witnessed Monet inflict—the deep lacerations, the frostbite, the bruised ribs—all of them had vanished. His fur felt impossibly soft beneath her touch, smoother and healthier than it had ever been. Even his breathing came deep and steady, as though he were simply enjoying a peaceful nap.
"Chopper, wake up," Robin whispered, gently shaking his shoulders. "Can you hear me? Chopper?"
The little reindeer didn't stir. His eyes remained closed, his expression serene. Robin's maternal instincts flared with worry, her grip tightening protectively around his small form.
"Sanji-kun," she called, unable to hide the tremor in her voice. "Something's wrong. He won't wake up."
The okama approached with surprising grace despite his high heels, kneeling on one knee beside them. He placed his palm against Chopper's forehead, closing his eyes in concentration. Robin watched as his expression shifted through several emotions—surprise, confusion, then understanding. When he finally opened his eyes, there was a hint of envy in his gaze.
"Robin-chan, there's no need to worry," Sanji assured her, though his voice carried a note of wonder. "Chopper isn't injured at all. Quite the opposite, actually. He's entered a state of profound enlightenment—what the masters at the Kamabakka Kingdom called 'touching the Dao.' His consciousness is turned completely inward, experiencing something most martial artists spend lifetimes trying to achieve."
Robin's grip relaxed slightly. "Enlightenment?"
"His body is fine, but his spirit is... elsewhere. Somewhere deeper." Sanji withdrew his hand, a wistful smile crossing his features. "Forcing him awake now would only harm him, rob him of this opportunity. The best thing we can do is take him back to the Sunny and let nature take its course."
The okama stood, smoothing out his dress with hands that trembled slightly—not from fear, but from genuine envy. He'd read about such states in the ancient texts Master Ivankov had shown him, tales of warriors who touched something beyond technique, beyond mere physical strength. But Sanji had started his training too late, his foundation too shallow. Even with his telekinetic powers and the Faiz Belt's enhancements, he could only dream of such profound experiences.
Robin looked down at the peaceful expression on Chopper's face, her worry gradually transforming into relief. "Then we'll take him home."
She was about to stand when a voice echoed up from the depths below—desperate, pleading, distinctly male.
"Is anyone up there? Please! I need help! I'm a samurai from Wano Country—I mean you no harm!"
Robin and Sanji exchanged sharp glances. The words struck them like lightning, jolting their memories back to their primary objective.
Wano Country.
The samurai retainers.
Kozuki Momonosuke's request.
They'd been so consumed by combat, so focused on survival, that they'd nearly forgotten the entire reason they'd ventured into Dressrosa's underground labyrinth in the first place.
Sanji rushed to the edge of the crater, peering down into the darkness below. His eyes adjusted quickly, and he could make out a tall figure standing amidst the rubble—a man with striking crimson hair, distinctive red circles painted on his cheeks like a traditional performer, and lips colored the same vibrant shade. The man clutched what appeared to be an oversized brush, its bristles stained with various pigments.
The description matched perfectly with what Momonosuke had told them about his missing retainer.
"Kanjuro!" Sanji called down. "Hold on, I'll get you out!"
He extended his telekinetic power downward, wrapping the samurai in an invisible cushion of force. With practiced ease, Sanji lifted the man from his underground prison, guiding him up through the shaft and onto the devastated surface. Kanjuro stumbled slightly as his feet touched solid ground, his eyes squinting against the sudden brightness after years in darkness.
The moment Kanjuro's vision adjusted, tears began streaming down his painted cheeks. He dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead to the scorched earth in a gesture of profound gratitude.
"Thank you! Thank you both!" His voice cracked with emotion. "When I heard that the Straw Hat Pirates had come to save me on Young Master Momonosuke's orders... I could scarcely believe it. Five years. Five long years I've been separated from my lord. This failure, this burden of being rescued instead of protecting him—the shame weighs upon my soul like stones."
Robin and Sanji watched the display with polite bewilderment. The culture of Wano Country remained largely mysterious to them, but the man's self-flagellation seemed excessive even by samurai standards.
"Please, there's no need for such formality," Robin said gently. "You're safe now. That's what matters."
Kanjuro raised his head, his expression a mixture of gratitude and lingering shame. "You defeated the Donquixote Family officers head-on. Without your strength, I would have died in that darkness, forgotten and alone. This debt can never be repaid."
Character Notes: Kanjuro, one of the Nine Red Scabbards, wielder of the Fude Fude no Mi (Brush-Brush Fruit)
"What happened to you?" Sanji asked, helping the samurai to his feet. "How did you end up down there?"
Kanjuro's face darkened with the memory. "After we fled Wano Country, Young Master Momonosuke and I arrived in Dressrosa seeking allies. But we were betrayed. The Donquixote Family captured us, separated us. Young master Momonosuke manage to escape, but I..." He paused, swallowing hard. "I was thrown into an underground disposal facility—a garbage dump where Doflamingo discards those he no longer has use for. Dozens of us were left there to rot. No food. No water. No light."
His hands clenched around his brush-weapon, knuckles white with tension. "One by one, they died. I survived by... by doing things I'm not proud of. Drinking condensation from the walls. Eating..." He couldn't finish the sentence, but the implication hung heavy in the air.
Robin's expression remained carefully neutral, though her eyes showed a flicker of sympathy. She'd seen enough of the world's darkness to understand what desperation could drive people to do.
"I was the only one left," Kanjuro continued, his voice hollow. "In the end, I was alone with the corpses and the refuse. If that explosion hadn't opened a hole to the surface, I would have become part of that mountain of garbage. Just another forgotten soul in Doflamingo's kingdom of nightmares."
"Well, you're free now," Sanji said, his tone gentler than usual. "Come back to the Sunny with us. You need proper food, clean water, and rest. After five years in that hell, your body needs time to recover."
"The Sunny?"
"Our ship," Robin explained. "You'll be safe there while we complete our mission in Dressrosa. Once everything is settled, we'll reunite you with Momonosuke-kun."
Fresh tears welled in Kanjuro's eyes. "Your kindness knows no bounds. I am forever in your debt."
As they began walking back toward the port, Robin suddenly remembered something. "Kanjuro-san, there was another officer we encountered below—a young girl named Sugar. She tried to ambush us with her ability. Do you know what happened to her?"
Kanjuro's expression didn't change, his tone remaining appropriately somber. "Ah, yes. I saw her body in the disposal room. Poor child. She committed suicide—threw herself on her own blade while screaming about joining her sister. At least she left a complete corpse. That's a better end than most who cross Doflamingo receive."
Robin's eyes narrowed slightly, studying the samurai's face for any sign of deception. But she saw only appropriate sorrow and resignation. After a moment, she nodded. "I suppose even Doflamingo's officers have their breaking points. She lost her sister—perhaps death seemed kinder than living with that grief."
"Exactly so," Kanjuro agreed quietly. "For one so young to carry such darkness... perhaps the underworld will give her the peace this world denied."
They continued their journey in contemplative silence, none of them noticing the faint smile that flickered across Kanjuro's lips when he thought no one was looking.
-Broadcast-
But did Sugar truly take her own life?
The Sky Screen shimmered, pulling viewers into a flashback that contradicted everything Kanjuro had claimed.
The scene shifted to a hidden control room deep beneath the colosseum, where Sugar stood before a complex panel of switches and warning lights. Her small hands trembled as she stared at the array of controls—the master detonation system for the entire underground facility. With a single button press, she could collapse the entire network of tunnels, factories, and disposal chambers, burying everything beneath tons of rubble.
"Those murderers," she hissed, her childlike voice twisted with venom. "They killed Monet. They destroyed everything. If I can't have revenge..." Her fingers danced across the control panel, disabling safety protocols one by one. "Then I'll make sure they die with me!"
The bear-themed cloak she wore billowed dramatically as she threw open the final safety cover, revealing a bright red button pulsing with malevolent promise. Her hand hovered above it, index finger extended, trembling with anticipation and rage.
"Go to hell, all of you!" Madness contorted her eternally youthful features into something grotesque. "You'll pay for what you did! You'll—"
SHING!
The sound of steel slicing through flesh cut her words short. Sugar's eyes went wide with shock, her mouth forming a perfect 'O' of surprise. She looked down to see her right hand—still extended toward the button—now separated from her wrist, lying on the control panel in a spreading pool of red.
"Ah... AAAAAAHHHH!" The pain hit her like a physical blow. She collapsed, clutching the spurting stump as blood painted the floor around her. "It hurts! It hurts so much! Who—who dares?!"
Through tear-blurred vision, she saw a figure emerge from the shadows behind her. Red hair. Red cheeks. That distinctive brush-sword still dripping with her blood.
"Kanjuro..." she gasped, her mind reeling. "But... but I turned you into a toy five years ago! How are you... Why aren't you...?"
The samurai's expression was utterly cold, devoid of the shame and gratitude he'd shown moments ago on the surface. He looked at her the way one might regard a particularly troublesome insect. "You almost caused me significant inconvenience, little girl. Doflamingo's luck has finally run out. You should go wait for him in the afterlife—assuming he joins you there."
"That's impossible!" Sugar's voice cracked with confusion and terror. "My Hobi Hobi no Mi's power—once someone becomes a toy, the effect is permanent until I'm knocked unconscious or killed! There's no way you could have been freed while I'm still—"
She never finished the thought.
Kanjuro's blade descended in a perfect arc, too fast for her frozen body to evade. The Fude Fude no Mi user's weapon, though unconventional, proved wickedly sharp when wielded with intent. Sugar's head separated from her shoulders with surgical precision, her final expression one of complete bewilderment.
Her body crumpled to the floor, the blood pooling around her expanding rapidly. The last thing visible in her glazing eyes was Kanjuro's back as he calmly wiped his blade clean on a nearby cloth, completely indifferent to the life he'd just extinguished.
Sugar died with her questions unanswered, joining her beloved sister Monet in the realm of the dead.
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