CHAPTER 73 — JURASSIC PARK BUT WITH MORE IDIOTS
— Welcome to the Jungle (Sunny POV)
Oh, if you thought Whiskey Peak was a circus, Little Garden hit like a goddamn prehistoric fever dream. We were barely in the bay, and the humidity was already slamming into us like a wet slap from Mother Nature herself—thick and sticky, making every breath feel like inhaling soup. It was heavy, it was rank, and it smelled like a thousand years of rot and blooming poison. The Going Merry creaked, a sound of protest in the overwhelming silence of the enormous trees. These weren't just trees, though; they were towers of bark and moss, their canopies so thick they choked out the sun, turning the jungle floor into a perpetual twilight. Vines dangled from them like lazy, monstrous tentacles, and the air... fuck, the air didn't just buzz with noise, it was pressure. Deep, guttural roars echoed off jagged, mist-shrouded mountains, shaking leaves loose to rain down like confetti from hell. I stood at the prow, the wind—what little there was—tugging my cloak. My Observation Haki was screaming like a banshee, pinging threats left and right. Every shadow under the canopy was a lurking, massive something. Every pair of eyes watching from the underbrush was ancient and hungry. It felt like stepping into a bad acid trip where everything wanted to eat you, stomp you, or just mess with your sense of scale. I was trying to look like the cool, collected captain, but internally, I was grinning wider than Lucy. Nami was glued to her map, hugging it like a bible, sweat beading on her forehead despite the heavy shade the forest cast. "This place is a navigator's nightmare," she muttered, her voice tight, the usual tough-as-nails exterior fraying at the edges. "Magnetic fields are all over the damn place, eternal poses worthless. We're flying blind, Sunny. Completely. Blind." She looked terrified, yes, but her hair was wild, her eyes were sharp, and damn, that focused desperation was a fire that made her more compelling than any goddess. Vivi wasn't faring better. She paced the small stretch of deck not yet claimed by encroaching vines, hands twisted in the silk of her skirt, looking like she'd seen an army of ghosts. "Little Garden... it's ancient. Legends say it's untouched since the dinosaurs roamed. Beasts bigger than ships." She was sweating bullets, but she still had that royal poise cracking into raw vulnerability, the kind that pulled at my chest. Lucy was the polar opposite. She vibrated beside Vivi, practically blurring with sheer, unadulterated excitement, straw hat tilted back precariously. "Dinosaurs? FUCK YEAH! I'm riding one by lunch!" Her enthusiasm was infectious and exhausting in equal measure.
Before I could deliver the Lecture on the Dangers of Tempting Fate—which, let's be real, is always futile with her—fate delivered its counter-argument.
It hit hard and fast: a tiger-sized mosquito, its thorax a sickening, pulsating red, diving like a feathered missile. Its stinger gleamed wickedly, easily the length of a small sword.
The crew scattered like startled pigeons. Usopp shrieked and dove behind Zoro, who was thankfully napping (swords propped like pillows, of course). Sanji lit a cigarette mid-dodge with casual, practiced flair. Robin just crossed her arms and sprouted two extra hands from her shoulder blades to swat at the monster with the bored detachment of someone dealing with a housefly. I stepped forward, calm as still water. This wasn't a threat; it was an annoyance. I didn't need a heavy punch; I needed finesse. I met the mosquito mid-air. Flowing Water Rock Smashing Fist, that gentle, terrifying martial arts form I picked up from Bang, focusing entirely on redirection. I didn't hit it; I nudged its immense momentum with a pressure point strike, sending it spiraling out of its dive path... ...right into Zoro's sleeping face.
Thwack. It was the sound of a large, heavy object hitting a very dense, moss-covered tree stump. The mosquito exploded into a puff of reddish-black goo and feathers. Zoro bolted upright, swords drawn in a terrifying half-sleep rage, his face welted red from the impact.
{Ego}: "Target acquired. Moss-head impact imminent. Ten points for style, darling. Look at that glorious confusion."
Stockfish: "Trajectory calculated flawlessly. Given the target's high defense stat and low awareness stat, maximum annoyance was the most efficient outcome. Efficiency at peak."
[System]: "Master, that was protective and precise... but next time, let me handle the bugs. I don't like things buzzing around you. It makes my core temperature rise. ♡"
I ignored the head chorus, my eyes already locking on the far horizon—a massive Brachiosaurus lumbering through the colossal trees, its neck like a construction crane stretching for the few patches of sun-drenched canopy. My inner kid, the stupid, adventurous bastard, lit up like a Christmas tree. "Holy shit... I want to pet it." The crew stared like I'd just declared myself the new Pirate King—again.
Nami: "Pet it? Sunny, that's a walking earthquake! It's the size of the Merry!"
Vivi nodded, frantic. Mr. 9, for his part, struck a dramatic pose that would have been impressive if he wasn't shivering: "For Vivi-chan, I'll slay it!
Robin smirked from the shadows, hands crossed. "A curious choice, Captain. Domination or affection? I suppose even giants have soft spots." Aqua floated up, summoning a shimmering water bubble around herself, like a high-maintenance hamster ball. "Pfft, I'll make it my steed! A goddess mount! Bow, primitive beast!" Nojiko laughed, linking her arm with mine—a warm, grounding, flirty spark I always loved. "You're such a kid sometimes. Adorable. Let's find one that gives milk." Lucy didn't ask; she piled on my back, settling in like a backpack. "Petting party! First to touch the dino wins captain points!" Usopp whimpered from his hiding spot: "We're all gonna die for a pat?!"
Sanji exhaled a plume of smoke, already thinking gourmet. "If it's for the ladies, I'll cook dino steak after. Medium-rare, marinated in jungle spices." Zoro finally sheathed his swords with a grunt, rubbing the welt on his face. "Whatever. As long as the next thing fights back." The Merry hummed louder, the faint, shimmering spirit of the ship peeking out shyly. Her voice in my mind was soft. "Sunny... be careful. It feels very big here."
We docked in a rush. The heat was oppressive now. Vines tangled the lines the moment they touched the shore, forcing us to use Zoro's swords to clear a path. Clothes were instantly glued to skin, turning into second skin. The jungle swallowed us quick: ferns tall as houses, spores floating lazy in the air like iridescent, dangerous fairy dust, the ground rumbling underfoot from unseen movement. I led the pack, Haki scanning—picking up massive life forces, ancient and hungry.
— The Split (Harem Logistics Gone Wild)
Setting up camp turned into a logistical nightmare and a domestic battlefield. We needed to scout, hunt, and guard the ship. But the only thing anyone could agree on was that I was non-negotiable property. "Sunny squad!" Lucy declared, staking her claim by clinging to my left arm like a koala whose life depended on my circulation.
Aqua was next, manifesting her water bubble closer, essentially claiming the air around my right side. "Goddess protection detail—I'm essential. I must protect the little King from the jungle's vulgarity!"
Nami and Nojiko exchanged a look—the silent, tactical signal of 'coastal village sisters in arms'—and flanked me immediately. "We're navigating and charting," Nami said, placing herself between Aqua and me, staff tapping the ground for emphasis. "So obviously, we need the cute one constant, close assistance." Nojiko leaned in, her voice low and flirtatious. "Someone has to keep my little brother hydrated and focused, right?" Vivi hovered shyly on the edge of the scrum, hands clasped. "I... I don't want to be a burden. I can join any team that needs help..." But her eyes never left me. Mr. 9 jumped in front of her, striking a hideous flexing pose: "For Vivi-chan! I will guard the ship with my superior, muscled artistry!"
Robin crossed her arms, a mysterious smile gracing her lips. "Intriguing island. I'll observe... from afar. Perhaps I will watch the Guard Team. Usopp's unique perspective on flora and fauna is... fascinating."
Usopp, hearing the word 'Guard' and 'Afar,' instantly volunteered: "Guard duty! Definitely guard! The safest place to be observant!" Karoo quacked agreement, already pecking at a stray snack on the deck. That left the remaining, highly volatile combination of Sanji and Zoro.
Sanji, naturally, was in a state of emotional crisis. He tried bribery—a gourmet picnic basket overflowing with sandwiches, fruits, and that fancy, rare Alabasta wine he'd been stashing for "a truly special occasion." "Sunny-bro," he pleaded, tears streaming cartoonishly down his face, dropping the basket at my feet like a sacrificial offering. "Let me join! For the ladies' safety! The jungle is brutal! I must be their culinary shield!" He winked at the girls; they rolled their eyes in perfect, synchronized annoyance. Nami and Nojiko, however, were merciless.
"We need meat, Cook-boy," Nami said, her staff tapping his shoulder with the sharp thwack of a debt collector. "You, Zoro, Aqua—hunt. We need dinosaur steaks for dinner. Don't worry, Sunny is in capable hands." Nojiko nodded, pulling me closer to demonstrate the 'capable hands' part. "And don't come back empty-handed. For Oneesan~." The tone was sweet, but the demand was absolute. Sanji wailed: "But the ladies—! That moss-head will just get lost! Who will cook their rations? Who will light their cigarettes? Who will guard their feminine sanctity?!" Aqua perked up immediately. "Hunt? I'm a goddess of the wild! Rawr!" She struck a dramatic 'jungle queen' pose that involved splashing water everywhere. Zoro, already walking away into the thickest part of the jungle, responded with a grunt that was almost a word. "Fine. Better than babysitting a bunch of screaming women." Teams locked down:
* Team Hunters (The Meat Squad): Sanji (crying, clutching a cookbook), Zoro (lost in thought, already gone), Aqua (in a water hamster ball, demanding tributaries). * Team Guard (The Coward Trio + Robin): Usopp (whimpering, armed with Pop Greens), Karoo (pecking snacks), Mr. 9 (monologuing about his own heroism), Robin (sprouting hands to read a leather-bound book mid-watch, finding the whole mess amusing). * Team Adventure (The Sunny Protection Squad): Me, Nami, Vivi, Lucy, Nojiko—the absolute focus of all chaos and affection, as Lucy gleefully dubbed it.
But Sanji, bless his heart, had one last, pathetic attempt.
As we prepared to leave, a strangely well-trimmed bush started rustling suspiciously near my heel. Stockfish, with velvet amusement, pinged: Stockfish: "Intruder detected, darling. Object Sanji Vinsmoke, disguised poorly as a shrubbery. Shall I calculate ejection velocity?"
I sighed, managing to keep my smirk hidden. The bush slowly started to scoot along the ground, trying to merge with the vegetation of Team Adventure. I took a casual, deliberate step back, turning on my heel, and kicked the "bush" overboard with a splash that sent water and leaves flying. "Nice try, curly-brow," I said, not even looking back.
From the deck, a heart-wrenching wail echoed. "Sunny-bro, you cruel, cruel man! I only wanted to protect their precious smiles!" "Go hunt a T-Rex!" Nami yelled back.
And with the drama secured, our Team Adventure plunged deeper into the prehistoric madness.
— The Hunters (Apex Idiots Check-In)
A quick flash to the jungle depths, a necessary check-in on the glorious idiocy unfolding.
Zoro, naturally, had managed to lose Sanji and Aqua in less than two minutes. He was currently squared off against a magnificent Triceratops, a beast whose head was larger than the Going Merry, its horns like sharpened battering rams. Zoro had his swords drawn because, as he put it to a nearby, terrified monkey, "it looked at me wrong." The beast charged—a low-earth tremor—and Zoro sidestepped with effortless grace, slashing a horn clean off with a burst of Haki. "One Sword Style: Rhino Horn Split!" The Triceratops roared in confused pain, turning the jungle into a sound cannon.
Meanwhile, Sanji had tracked the noise. He found a massive T-Rex with a toothy grin that could swallow a man whole, currently attempting to snap up the smug, floating Aqua in her water bubble.
Sanji exploded into action. He leaped into the air, smoke trailing, his leg glowing with furious heat. "Diable Jambe: Dino Dinner Reject!" He kicked the T-Rex straight in the jaw with a brutal, bone-shattering CRACK. The enormous beast roared, staggered back, and fell to its knees, dizzy. "Filthy lizard!" Sanji screamed, landing lightly. "Don't you dare touch the goddess! Your palate is too unrefined!" Aqua, entirely unharmed and utterly oblivious to the life-saving kick, just floated smugly in her bubble, which was now attracting tiny, bewildered jungle birds. "Bow to me, peasants!" she commanded to the stunned, drooling raptors that had been following the T-Rex. One confused raptor, likely concussed by the force of the kick, actually dipped its tiny, scaly head. She cackled.
{Ego}: "Animal diplomacy unlocked. Ten points for the goddess, zero for the cook who actually saved her."
Sanji (Internal Monologue): She's so beautiful! Even in a death trap, she's perfect! Zoro (Internal Monologue): ...Which way was East again?
— Jurassic Date (Team Adventure Trek)
Our squad—the walking disaster waiting to happen—plunged deeper. The jungle was a sensory overload that required constant focus. The floor was cushioned with centuries of rotting leaves, thick and wet. Massive ferns brushed our shoulders—some were the size of small trees. Every few steps, we'd encounter glowing, iridescent spores floating lazy in the air like fairy dust from hell, which Nami immediately banned us from touching. The ground shook constantly from distant stomps.
Lucy was the definition of perpetual motion. She almost ate a purple mushroom—it was ridiculously vibrant, glistening with what was definitely poison. "Trippy colors! Adventure fuel!" she cheered, jaws open. I had to physically pry her mouth open, my voice exasperated but gentle. "Drop it. No. Bad captain. It looks like it gives you internal hemorrhaging, not superpowers." She pouted, her cheeks puffing out. "But I wanted the trippy colors!"
Nami and Vivi were almost glued to my cloak, the fabric tight against my back. Nami, ever the pragmatist, claimed she was using me for "protection and proximity to the map carrier." Vivi was just overwhelmed, her hand trembling slightly in mine. "This place... it's like time forgot it," Vivi whispered, her eyes wide as she gazed at a monstrous, flowering plant with petals the size of hammocks.
I squeezed her hand gently. My Haki was constantly humming, a low-level sonar against the chaos.
[System]: "Vivi's heart rate elevated—hand-holding recommended for stabilization. Her palms are damp. Suggest supportive words, Master. ♡"
"We'll get through it, Princess," I murmured, meeting her eyes. "We've faced worse than big lizards." She blushed, a lovely pink that stood out against the deep green. "I know. It's just... the sheer scale is daunting. Like everything that matters back home is just a tiny speck..." Nojiko was the cool one, hacking away at thick, serpentine vines with a short, efficient machete. She walked ahead, clearing the path, then winked back at me over her shoulder, a sultry curve to her lips. "Nice view from back here, little brother? Blue cloak always did look good on him." The flirty heat between us was a constant current, a familiar, easy dance amid the madness.
I maintained the serious front, though {Ego} kept cheering in my head: "Smooth operator. Audience approves. Keep holding the princess's hand, that's character development."
We stopped for a moment at a natural spring, the water crystal clear and cold. Robin's observation was so subtle I almost missed it: a small bloom of her Hana Hana no Mi hands had sprouted on a nearby fern, acting as silent, watchful eyes and ears. Usopp, bless him, had radioed panic five minutes ago. "Guys, giant spider! Wait, false alarm—Mr. 9's helmet caught in a vine again." The Guard Team was providing excellent, if useless, reconnaissance.
— The "Accident" (Diplomatic Fail of the Century)
Then we hit the clearing. And the world tilted.
We emerged from the fern-forest into a massive, dirt-packed arena. In the center, holding an axe that looked like it was forged for a god, Brogy the Red Ogre loomed. He was a mountain of muscle and wild red hair, covered in scars that told stories older than the Grand Line itself. His beard was braided with ancient bone fragments, and his sheer, raw presence radiated power. He was terrifying. He was magnificent. He spotted us immediately, and his laugh, "GABABABA!", hit us like a sonic boom, shaking the leaves off the canopy.
Nami and Vivi screamed, throwing themselves back. Lucy, bless her chaotic heart, vibrated even harder: "Giant friend?!" I wasn't screaming. I wasn't running. I felt the pure, ancient power of his Haki—it was colossal, but surprisingly neutral, like a force of nature waiting for a storm. This wasn't a beast; this was a warrior. I stepped forward, my cloak flaring out behind me, deliberately channeling my most serious, controlled presence. I pushed my blue Haki out, a deliberate, cold shield. "I am Sunny of the Straw Hats," I stated, my voice cutting through the ringing in my ears, firm despite my size. "We are travelers. We mean no harm, but we will not be bullied. Move aside." This was my Badass Moment.
But the Cute no Jutsu Passive Charm is a treacherous, unpredictable bitch.
Brogy didn't rage. He didn't even draw his axe. He stopped his massive laugh, cocked his head, and stared down at my tiny, defiant form. Then, his face split into a grin of pure, booming, fatherly delight, and he threw his head back, laughing harder than before. "GABABABA! Oh, you glorious little man! A tiny fierce warrior! You look like a little doll trying to be a king!" I felt the blood drain from my face. Doll.
My Haki, my power, my serious threat assessment—it was all overruled by the sheer, unyielding power of Adorable Disdain. He saw a doll trying to play pirate. Before I could even stammer a protest, Brogy reached down. His two enormous fingers, thicker than my torso, gently pinched the front of my cloak. He lifted me with impossible, careful ease, and with a booming chuckle, he plopped me on his shoulder like a parrot. "Come!" he bellowed, totally ignoring the four beautiful, outraged women staring up at him. "I will feed you meat so you can grow! You need at least a few hundred pounds of muscle before you can deliver a worthy threat, little friend!" I was mortified. Absolutely, completely humiliated. I was perched a hundred feet in the air, a tiny blue-cloaked accessory on a walking mountain.
Put me down!" I roared, my voice a squeak up here. "I am a threat! I am the most dangerous man on this island!" Lucy, below, was dying of laughter, doubled over, slamming her straw hat against her knee. "Doll Sunny! Doll Sunny!" Nami was furious, hands on her hips, shouting up. "Put our Sunny down, you overgrown cabbage patch doll!" Vivi was simply staring, a hand clapped over her mouth to stifle a giggle that still escaped. Even Nojiko was failing to look suitably angry, a smile fighting its way onto her face. {Ego}: "Demoted to shoulder pet. Dignity loss: 100%. However, this perspective is excellent for spotting approaching enemies. So, tactical advantage? Maybe five points back." [System]: "Master... you look so small up there. I'm overloading with cuteness! I must knit you a tiny giant scarf! ♡"
Stockfish: "Adopted. The fastest diplomatic resolution was to submit to the role of 'cute child.' Dignity loss: 100%. Survival chance: 100%. Acceptable outcome."
I just sighed, folding my arms and staring out over the ridiculous, prehistoric landscape, my face hot. I was a goddamn pirate, not a toy. I swore, I was going to conquer the world just to outlaw the word "cute."
The Duel of Giants (Honor of Elbaf)
My humiliation was temporarily put on hold by the sound of a distant, low rumble that rapidly grew into a terrifying roar. The air pressure dropped. The leaves stopped rustling. "GABABABA! Dorry! You are late, you blue-haired simpleton!" Brogy roared, ignoring me completely, turning his gaze toward the volcano on the other side of the island. The volcano erupted. It wasn't an ash cloud; it was a massive, ceremonial geyser of fire and steam, timed perfectly for dramatic effect. Dorry the Blue Ogre emerged from the smoke, axe held high, his blue hair wild and his face set in a grim, century-old determination. I watched, perched on Brogy's shoulder, as the two titans met in the center of the clearing.
The two axes clashed—a sound that didn't just echo, it hit you physically, rattling your teeth and vibrating in your bones. The shockwave that followed was a literal blast of wind, blowing Nami's hat off her head. My instincts took over. Without looking, I plucked the hat out of the air with Haki before it could fall into the fern-forest, turning to hand it to Nami, who was huddled below with Vivi. She grabbed it, startled, her cheeks flushed from the wind and the sheer spectacle. "Show-off," she muttered, but her eyes held a spark of impressed gratitude. I didn't acknowledge the compliment. My focus had shifted. My Haki felt it—the sheer, unyielding weight of one hundred years of tradition, honor, and raw, unbroken warrior pride. This wasn't a deathmatch or a barbaric brawl. This was a sacrament. I looked down at the girls, my voice dropping, losing all its cuteness and gaining an edge of serious, mature authority. "This isn't a fight to the death," I explained, gesturing to the massive figures below. "It's a duel for pride. It's an unbroken tradition. It is everything to them. Don't interrupt them." Vivi watched my face—the shift from the pouting "doll" to the somber warrior—and the blush intensified. She was drawn to that serious edge, that sudden focus.
"A fight... for pride," she whispered, her eyes wide. "A hundred years... to uphold an oath."
Nami put a hand on Vivi's shoulder. "It's insane."
"It's discipline," I countered quietly, still perched high above. "It's the willingness to carry a burden—an oath—even when it hurts, even when it's pointless to everyone else. That kind of devotion... it's terrifying, and it's everything that makes a warrior." Vivi's eyes glazed over slightly, the weight of Alabasta pressing down on her again. She understood burdens. She understood pointless, necessary sacrifice better than anyone.
— The Feast (Emotional Core)
Brogy and Dorry fought for a while longer, a mesmerizing dance of ancient power that flattened the jungle around them. Finally, exhausted, they separated, calling a temporary truce to gather strength for the next day's clash. As night fell, the air became marginally cooler, though the humidity remained a constant, sticky blanket. The giants, surprisingly hospitable, invited us to their campfire—a massive pit of burning logs, around which lay the bleached, colossal bones of their past meals. The shadows danced on giant skulls, and the air smelled of woodsmoke and a faint, metallic scent. Then Sanji arrived. He tracked us by the smoke, breathless, covered in mud and a single, perfectly butchered Triceratops flank.
"Ladies! I'm here! I have prepared a feast worthy of goddesses!" he announced, eyes heart-shaped, immediately ignoring the two actual giants to focus on our crew. Sanji set to work with professional intensity. He used volcanic rock as a massive griddle, heating it with precise kicks. He sliced the Triceratops meat thin—tenderloin, judging by his fastidious cut—seasoning it with herbs he'd gathered. The smell, rich with spices and woodsmoke, was divine. We sat down to eat, small figures around a fire pit the size of a pond. Brogy and Dorry—temporarily in truce mode—laughed and told ancient stories of Elbaf, of warriors and honor, of a history that dwarfed the entire Grand Line. The girls fussed over me, making sure I wasn't sitting too close to the fire. Vivi, however, sat apart from the main group, away from the roaring laughter and the warmth. She was staring into the darkness, her hands clasped tightly, the sheer, unrelenting weight of her mission—saving a nation from civil war—finally crushing her. I watched her for a long moment, letting the laughter of the giants cover my approach. I didn't rush. I finished my meat, then carried a fresh piece of Sanji's perfect creation—seared rare, drizzled with a simple garlic-herb oil—and sat beside her. She looked up, startled, wiping quickly at her eyes. "Sunny," she whispered, her voice tight. "I'm fine. Just... overwhelmed."
I handed her the meat. No jokes. No flirting. Just raw, serious presence.
"You're trying to carry a whole kingdom in that backpack of yours, Princess," I said quietly, leaning back on my hands, gazing into the flames. "A civil war, a criminal syndicate, your father's life, millions of people. It's too heavy for one person." She turned away, tears welling up. "I have to. If I fail, Alabasta burns. And I led you all here..."
"Bullshit," I cut in, my voice gentle but firm. "You didn't lead us anywhere we didn't want to go. We're pirates, Princess. We're good at stealing things. Let us steal your burden for a while." I moved closer, placing a hand on the back of her head, not pulling her, but offering a rock-steady anchor. My hand was warm, grounding, and I used my gentle 'Knocking Technique'—not a weapon, but a precise, subtle pressure on a nerve cluster—to ease the tension coiling in her neck and shoulders. She broke. Quietly.
Vivi melted against me, burying her face into my cloak, the tears soaking the fine material. She cried for her father, for the people of Alabasta, for the unbearable weight of her nobility. Nami and Lucy, seeing the moment, didn't hesitate. They abandoned the feast and the giants' laughter, running over and sandwiching Vivi in a massive, warm hug. Nojiko followed, completing the emotional barricade. "You're not alone, Vivi," Nami whispered fiercely, her own protective instincts flaring.
"We got you, Princess," Lucy added, her voice unusually soft.
I just kept my hand on her head, patting it gently, feeling the shuddering release of her fear. This was the core of our crew—the strength and the heart. {Ego}: "Sap central, but goddamn, that was a good scene. You got the tears, you got the hugs. Maximum emotional impact achieved." [System]: "Master... archiving this moment under 'Reasons I Love Him'. Wholesome tears overflow. My core temperature is dangerously high. Must send a virtual bouquet of flowers to Vivi. ♡" Stockfish: "Emotional bonds: fortified. Loyalty confirmed across all key assets. Efficiency noted. This is how you conquer the world."
— The Colors of a Trap (Baroque Works Moves) Cut to the canopy shadows, a mile away.
Mr. 3—the meticulous, fastidious wax-wax man—sipped tea (impossibly balanced on a melting tree stump), looking down at the happy, colossal campfire through a pair of polished, brass binoculars. "Disgusting camaraderie," he sneered, adjusting his ridiculously sculpted wax hair. "Primitive. The Red and Blue are brutes, and the Straw Hats are sentimental fools." Miss Goldenweek sat cross-legged on a large, flat rock, painting a small, colorful canvas with intense concentration. She wore her signature, strange outfit, entirely unbothered by the jungle insects. "That one in the blue cloak," she murmured, not looking away from her work. She had her own, smaller binoculars. "The one glowing."
Mr. 3 scoffed. "Glowing? No one is glowing, Goldenweek. You've been staring at those primary colors too long." "He is," she insisted, turning her large, bored eyes to the wax man. "He's... Yellow. The color of happiness and sunshine, but also Blue, the color of deep loyalty. I want to paint him. I want to trap that color." "Focus!" Mr. 3 hissed, pulling his own attention back to the blurry figures. "We capture the Princess, we wax the rest. The bounty is only for the Giants. No distractions!" Goldenweek picked up a brush tipped with brilliant green. "I want to paint him."
Mr. 3 let out a long, weary sigh. The Candle Set was already built—a meticulous, geometric nightmare of wax traps and sticky, paralyzing goo. The plan was laid. He only had to wait for the giants to tire. Cut back to the Merry, sitting placidly in the bay.
Usopp was trembling, clutching a slingshot loaded with a Pop Green designed to sprout a massive, thorny vine wall. "I feel like someone evil is looking at us, Karoo," he whispered, looking into the pitch-black jungle. "Like... multiple someones." Robin sat near the mast, her book closed now, her enigmatic smile directed at the darkness. "Multiple someones," she confirmed quietly. "And they are not discreet. They are simply... waiting for the right color to appear." Mr. 9 shivered despite himself, his pose suddenly less firm.