Chapter 74: "The Yandere, The Lego, and The Void"
Lucy's POV — The Clouds Turn Grey
The jungle of Little Garden didn't sleep. It screamed. It chattered. It roared with the sounds of things eating other things. But right here, in the small clearing we'd claimed as our territory, it was quiet. The kind of quiet that feels heavy, like a held breath. The campfire had burned down to embers, casting a dying, bloody glow across the sleeping forms of the crew. But I wasn't sleeping. Sleep was for people who didn't have a treasure to guard.
I lay on my side, propped up on one elbow, staring. Just… staring.
Sunny looked different when he slept. The chaotic, charming mask he wore all day—the one that made girls swoon and enemies hesitate—melted away. He looked younger. softer. His chest rose and fell in a rhythm that was the only music I ever wanted to hear. "Hey, System," I projected the thought, my mental voice sharp. "Do me a solid."
[System]: Permission granted. Suppressing Subject Sunny's Observation Haki for the next 30 minutes. Enjoy the view, fellow predator.
The invisible barrier of his Haki—that constant, buzzing radar that usually kept me from getting too close without him knowing—vanished. It was just him. And me. My hair shifted. It wasn't just messy from the humidity anymore; it floated, turning white and wispy, curling around me like storm clouds gathering before a hurricane. My eyes felt hot, shifting from their usual dark hue to a glowing, piercing red. Mine.
The thought wasn't happy. It was heavy. It sat in my gut like a stone.
I leaned closer, my nose brushing the tip of his. He smelled like campfire smoke, ozone, and that faint, maddening citrus scent that never seemed to leave him.
[Lucy's mind:
Sunny: 60%. No, that's too low. Sunny: 70%. Meat: 20%. Because a girl's gotta eat.
Pirate King: 10%. I mean, I'll get there, but right now?]
I reached out, a finger tracing the line of his jaw. He twitched in his sleep, murmuring something unintelligible, and my heart squeezed so hard I thought it might burst. I wanted to crawl inside his ribs and just live there. It wasn't enough to be his captain. It wasn't enough to be his friend. I wanted to be the air he breathed. I wanted to be the blood in his veins. Snap.
A twig broke.
It was faint. To anyone else, it would have been just the jungle settling. But to me? To the predator watching her prey? It was a gunshot. I didn't move. I didn't breathe. My red eyes slid to the side, peering into the dense, fern-choked darkness beyond the camp's perimeter. Two shapes. Creeping.
One was tall, lanky, moving with the jerky stiffness of a man who hated nature. The other was small, round, and practically vibrating. Mr. 3. Miss Goldenweek.
My lips pulled back, not in a smile, but in a baring of teeth. They were looking at him. They were whispering about him. They wanted to take my Sunny.
The air around me grew cold, the humidity freezing into a chill that had nothing to do with the weather. Oh, they had made a mistake. A fatal, beautiful mistake.
Miss Goldenweek's POV — The Art of Kidnapping
"Ugh, it's so muddy," I complained, lifting my shoe. "Mr. 3, why couldn't we just wait until morning? Artists need natural light."
"Quiet, you brat!" Mr. 3 hissed, adjusting his glasses. He looked miserable. Sweat was melting his wax hair, making him look like a dying candle. "We have a job to do. That boy—Sunny. The Boss wants him handled, but that bounty… 100 Million Berries. If we deliver him alive, we skip the officer ranks and go straight to the top." I pulled out a rice cracker and crunched on it loudly. "I don't care about the ranks. I just want him for my collection."
Mr. 3 froze, looking back at me. "Collection? We are not turning him into a statue for your garden!"
"Not a statue," I corrected, pulling out my palette. "A model. Have you seen him? He's the color of Sunshine Yellow mixed with innocent Blue. He's aesthetically perfect. He's cute. I want to paint him. I want to keep him in a little box and feed him crackers." "He is a dangerous pirate, not a hamster!" Mr. 3 whisper-shouted, waving his arms. "We are going to trap him in my Candle Lock, drag him to the ship, and cash him in. No keeping him!"
"Boring," I muttered. "I'm going to use Color of Betrayal on his friends so they hand him over. Then I'll use Color of Friendship so he likes me best." We crept closer to the sleeping camp. The giant fire had died down, leaving deep shadows. There he was. Sunny. Even asleep, he looked peaceful. Like a painting waiting to happen. "Alright," Mr. 3 whispered, raising his hand. Wax started to swirl around his fist, forming a heavy mallet. "I'll knock him out with a wax hammer. Crude, but effective." "No!" I hissed, grabbing his sleeve. "You'll bruise the merchandise! Use the Color of Dreams! Let me put him in a trance!"
"We don't have time for your finger-painting!"
"It's not finger-painting, it's psychological warfare, you wax-brained idiot!"
We were standing right at the edge of the clearing, arguing in fierce whispers, completely ignoring the fact that the temperature had dropped about ten degrees in the last three seconds. "I am the senior agent here!" Mr. 3 growled. "I say we smash—"
He stopped.
I stopped.
It wasn't a sound. It was… weight.
Suddenly, the air wasn't air anymore. It was lead. It was the bottom of the ocean. It was the feeling of a predator's breath on the back of your neck. I tried to look up. I tried to move my hand to my paints. I couldn't. My knees buckled.
Thump.
Mr. 3 hit the dirt face-first, foaming at the mouth.
"Pretty..." I mumbled, my vision going black as the crushing pressure squeezed the consciousness right out of my brain. "...colors..."
Lucy's POV — The Monster in the Mist
Pathetic.
They dropped like flies. I didn't even have to touch them.
I stood up slowly, the grass dying beneath my feet as my Conqueror's Haki rolled off me in thick, suffocating waves. My hair was a storm cloud now, floating around my head in jagged spikes. My eyes were glowing coals. I walked toward them. Silent. A ghost made of rubber and rage.
Mr. 3 was twitching in the dirt. Goldenweek looked like a broken doll. They wanted to take him.
The thought replayed in my head, a broken record scratching against my sanity. They wanted to steal my sun.
I held out my hand. The moisture in the air condensed, mixing with the rubber of my skin, twisting and hardening until I held a jagged, serrated kitchen knife made of white cloud and grey haki. It wasn't a pirate's weapon. It was an executioner's tool. I stood over Mr. 3. I raised the blade.
Die.
Just as I brought my arm down— Warmth.
Two arms wrapped around my waist from behind. A chin rested on my shoulder. A chest pressed against my back, solid and real and anchoring. "Easy, Captain," a voice murmured. It was sleepy, rough with exhaustion, and the most beautiful sound in the world. "That's enough." My knife hovered inches from Mr. 3's wax-coated neck. The red in my eyes flickered.
"Sunny?" I whispered, my voice sounding distorted, like it was coming from underwater. "Yeah. It's me." One of his hands moved up, burying itself in my floating, cloudy hair. He started to pat. Gently. Rhythmic. "You did good. You protected me. Good girl." Pat. Pat. Pat.
The tension in my spine snapped. The red bled out of my vision. My hair deflated, turning back to messy black locks. The cloud knife dissolved into mist. I spun around in his arms, burying my face in his chest, trembling. "They… they were going to…"
"I know," he soothed, holding me tight. "But they didn't. Because you were here."
I melted. Literally. I went boneless, turning into a puddle of rubbery affection against him. The darkness receded, shoved back into its box by the sheer warmth of his hands.
Sunny's POV — The Morning After
Sunlight hit my eyelids like a physical assault. I groaned, trying to sit up, but there was a significant weight pinning me to the bedroll. Lucy.
She was wrapped around me like an octopus, her limbs stretched and tangled with mine in a knot that defied anatomy. Her face was buried in my neck, drooling slightly. Last night…
The memory hit me. The pressure. The killing intent that felt cold enough to freeze magma. Lucy standing over those two idiots with a knife made of clouds. She really is a terrifying little monster, I thought fondly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.
And then, the other memory. The flashback that had been haunting my dreams lately. Flashback: The Night Before Little Garden
The cabin was dark. Lucy had cornered me, her eyes serious, her usual grin replaced by a pout that was equal parts cute and dangerous. "Why not?" she demanded, poking my chest. "We're pirates. We take what we want. I want you. You want me. The math works, Sunny!" I had sighed, leaning back against the desk, running a hand through my hair. "Lucy… look at me. How old are you?" "Seventeen!" she declared proudly. "Basically an adult!"
"Basically isn't entirely," I said, my voice low. I reached out, cupping her cheek. She leaned into the touch instantly. "I have rules, Sweety. Lines I don't cross. Not yet." "Rules are boring," she grumbled.
"Rules keep us alive," I countered softly. "Listen to me. When the clock turns, when you're eighteen… when we've sailed a little further… ask me again. I promise, I won't say no." Her eyes had widened, a blush spreading across her cheeks that rivaled the sunset. "Promise?"
"Promise."
Flashback End.
I sighed, staring up at the canopy.
{Ego}: Man, you really are playing the long game with a ticking time bomb. Respect.
[System]: Turning off "Cute no Jutsu" passive charm. Initiating "Serious Captain" mode. You need to be sharp today, darling. That little painter girl almost got the drop on you because you were sleeping like a princess.
Stockfish: Inefficient. Sleeping vulnerability is a tactical error. However… the Captain's protective instinct has increased by 400%. Calculated risk: successful.
"Shut up, all of you," I muttered.
I carefully untangled myself from Lucy—replacing my body with a large log which she immediately snuggled—and stood up. I stretched, my bones popping. Time to work.
My Haki flared out, scanning the island.
The Giants were awake near the volcano. The jungle was waking up. But something was missing. Robin.
My Observation Haki swept toward the coast, then to the Merry. Her signal was… weak. Fading. "Shit."
I moved. No running. Just Space Crunch.
I warped, the world folding around me, and appeared on the deck of the Going Merry in a crack of displaced air. Usopp screamed, dropping his toothbrush. Mr. 9, who was trying to lift a dumbbell the size of a melon, shrieked and dropped it on his foot. "Sunny!" Usopp yelled. "Don't do that! My heart can't take it!"
"Where's Robin?" I demanded, ignoring him.
"She… she's in the cabin," Mr. 9 stammered, hopping on one foot. "She didn't come out for breakfast. Merry seems worried." The spirit of the Merry shimmered into existence beside me, a translucent girl made of wood grain and starlight. She pointed frantically toward the guest cabin. I kicked the door open.
Robin was curled on the bunk, shivering. Her skin was pale, clammy. Her usually sharp, enigmatic eyes were glazed over. Jungle fever. Or something prehistoric that her immune system had no roadmap for.
"Damn it," I hissed, rushing to her side.
[System]: Analysis: Prehistoric pathogen. High fever. Organ stress. Recommendation: Immediate medical intervention. "Way ahead of you."
I placed my hands on her chest and forehead. "Knocking Technique: Viral suppression."
My fingers moved in a blur, tapping pressure points with surgical precision. I used my Haki to guide the energy, forcing her body's natural defenses to surge, locking down the virus, stabilizing her temperature. She gasped, her back arching slightly as the shock of the technique hit her, then she slumped back, her breathing easing.
"Oneesan…" I whispered, brushing wet hair from her forehead. "You can't check out on me yet. We haven't finished our chess game." She blinked, focusing on me slowly. A weak, smirk tugged at her lips. "Little brother… playing doctor?" "Rest," I ordered, my voice leaving no room for argument. "Merry will watch you. I'll be back in an hour with an antidote." I turned to leave, but stopped at the rail where two wax-covered lumps were groaning. Mr. 3 and Miss Goldenweek, currently tied up with vines courtesy of Lucy's late-night rampage. I looked at them. They looked at me.
"You two are annoying," I said flatly. "And I don't have time to babysit." I grabbed them by the scruff of their necks.
"Space Crunch: Special Delivery."
I warped reality. Not a short hop this time. A long-distance punt.
I opened a rift directly to the training grounds of Whiskey Peak, where I knew a certain Igaram and the rest of the 'Sunny Fan Club' were currently enduring Hell Training. "Have fun in boot camp," I muttered, and tossed them through the void. The portal snapped shut.
Problem solved. Now, about those Giants.
Dorry's POV — The Pride of Elbaf
The morning sun beat down on the clearing, steam rising from the jungle floor. My axe, Terry Sword, rested on my shoulder, heavy and comforting. "GABABABA! Brogy! The little humans are awake!" I roared, gesturing to the tiny figures emerging from the fern-line. Brogy laughed, his belly shaking the earth. "They are lively little bugs, aren't they?"
We sat on our massive helmets, eating the remains of the meat the curly-browed cook had prepared. It was… good. Better than good. It tasted like honor. The blue-cloaked one—Sunny—walked up to us. He wasn't smiling today. The "cute doll" face was gone. His eyes were dark blue, like the deep ocean before a storm. "Morning, Titans," he said. His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the jungle noise effortlessly.
"Morning, Little Warrior!" I greeted. "Have you come to watch our duel? Today marks the 73,467th battle!" Sunny looked at me. Then at Brogy. Then he shook his head.
"I've come to tell you something you're not going to like," he said. "You two are weak." Silence.
The birds stopped singing. Brogy stopped chewing.
I leaned down, my massive face inches from his. "Weak? Little human, I could crush your ship with a sneeze. My Haki has weathered a century of combat." "Your Haki is crumbling," Sunny said, not flinching. "Your bodies are rotting from the inside. A hundred years of fighting? Cool. A hundred years of drinking cheap booze and ignoring your internal injuries? Stupid." Brogy stood up, grabbing his axe. The ground shook. "Careful, boy. We liked you. Don't make us squash you."
"Prove it," Sunny said. He pointed at me. "Dorry the Blue Ogre. Fight me. If you're so strong, you should be able to handle one little human." The Straw Hats behind him were buzzing.
"Oh god, he's doing it," the long-nosed one whimpered. "Get him, Sunny!" the rubber girl cheered.
"Kick his ass, Captain!" the orange-haired navigator yelled, though she was hiding behind a tree. I laughed. A deep, belly-shaking laugh. "You want to fight me? GABABABA! Fine! I will give you a warrior's lesson, little doll!" Sunny's POV — The Lego of Doom
I stood in the center of the clearing. Dorry loomed over me, a tower of muscle and pride. He raised his shield and his sword, his Haki flaring out in a massive, uncontrolled wave. It was impressive. But it was sloppy.
"Prepare yourself!" Dorry roared. He charged. The earth cracked with every step. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. "Stockfish," I thought calmly. "Calculate stride pattern."
Stockfish: Calculation complete. Target is putting 80% of his weight on his left heel during the impact phase of his stride. Trajectory confirmed. Impact point: 18 meters ahead. Lethality of counter-measure: Psychologically devastating. "Perfect."
I reached into my pocket. I didn't pull out a sword. I didn't pull out a gun. I pulled out a single, red, 2x4 plastic brick. A Lego.
I infused it with Armament Haki. Not just coating it—I saturated it. I made that piece of plastic harder than diamond. I gave it the density of a collapsing star. I flicked it.
It landed innocently in the dirt, exactly 18 meters away.
Dorry roared, raising his sword for a strike that would split the island. He took the final step. His massive, calloused, un-booted heel came down. Directly. On. The. Lego.
CRUNCH.
Time stopped.
Dorry's eyes bulged out of his head. His mouth opened, but no sound came out at first. It was just a silent scream of agony that transcended species, language, and size. Then—
"GYAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The giant dropped his sword. He dropped his shield. He clutched his foot, hopping on one leg, tears streaming down his face like waterfalls. "MY SOUL! I FELT IT IN MY SOUL!" he screamed, crashing into the dirt, rolling around and holding his heel. "WHAT DARK MAGIC IS THIS?! IT PIERCED MY HAKI! IT PIERCED MY DIGNITY!" Brogy stared, horrified. "Dorry! What happened?! Is it a cursed blade?!"
"It was a block!" Dorry wailed. "A tiny red block of infinite pain!" I walked over to the weeping giant, picking up the Lego brick and blowing the dust off it. "That," I said calmly, "was a warning."
I looked at both of them. My eyes shifted. The "Cute no Jutsu" was gone. The casual pirate was gone. I let my Haki loose.
Void Blue.
It didn't explode outward. It didn't crack the sky. It turned the air into heavy, suffocating water. The jungle turned grey. The light vanished. Behind me, a phantom image flickered—a beast made of pure void, jaws open, ready to swallow the world.
I smiled. It was a dark, jagged smile that didn't reach my eyes.
"You two are dying," I said, my voice echoing like it was coming from everywhere at once. "Your livers are shot. Your bones are micro-fractured. If you drink one more drop of alcohol, I will know." I stepped closer.
"And if you do," I whispered, "I will use my Knocking on your bodies. I will rewire your nervous systems so that every time you smell booze, you vomit for three days straight. I will make your own bodies reject the thing you love most." Brogy took a step back. Then another. He looked at Dorry, who was still crying over the Lego incident.
Brogy scrambled behind Dorry, using his friend as a human shield.
"Why are you hiding behind me?!" Dorry shrieked. "You're the Red Ogre!" "He's scary!" Brogy yelled. "Look at his eyes! He's a demon in a doll's body!" Dorry scrambled behind Brogy. "You take him! I'm injured! The block... the block..." They shuffled back and forth, two titans of Elbaf, terrified of a 18 year old man in a blue cloak. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" I roared, letting the Void Haki pulse once.
The two giants dropped to their knees, heads bowing so fast they created a wind gust. "YES, SUNNY-SAMA!"
I blinked, the Haki vanishing instantly. I smiled—my normal, charming smile. "Good. Now, who wants juice?" The Straw Hats stood in stunned silence.
"He..." Usopp whispered, clutching his chest. "He broke them. With a toy." Zoro smirked, sheathing his sword. "Scariest man on the sea. No contest." Nami sighed, shaking her head. "And yet... I still want to hug him. Is something wrong with me?" Nojiko laughed. "Nope. That's just the Sunny effect."
[System]: Fear established. Dominance asserted. Cuteness... somehow still intact? Master, you are a walking paradox. And I love it. ♡
Stockfish: Checkmate via plastic brick. Elegant. I'll make a note: Lego is a weapon of mass destruction.
{Ego}: I'm so proud. You're a monster. A cute, terrifying monster.