From the beach, the ship was barely a blurred silhouette.
The dying sun dyed the waves that now lashed the dock with sudden fury.
That Marine vessel trembled with violent spasms.
When Tiberion took Hancock onto that ship for a time, everything fell into absolute silence, all eyes fixed on that point at sea.
No one knew why, but out of nowhere, Tiberion had taken his Goddess onto that ship, and having witnessed that monster's recent actions, everyone imagined what he might do to their Goddess.
And after two minutes, sounds arrived—unclear, muffled… but they weren't the sounds of a fight.
It was a voice. Feminine.
IT'S THE EMPRESS!
Gradually, screams pierced the eardrums of the surviving Marines. Not mere cries of fear: these were fleshy sounds, the kind of shriek that only erupts when something is being torn apart.
As if pain itself had become audible.
The Marines stared at one another wordlessly, their hands involuntarily seeking hilts of weapons they no longer had. A young one vomited between his feet. An old man with one eye clenched his teeth until his jaw cracked.
The distant ship groaned, literally.
Each tremor produced a wail that resonated in their bones. The seagulls had already fled in frenzy.
"It's… it's convulsing," stammered a recruit named Parker.
No one corrected him, and they couldn't.
Because the ship now writhed like an injured animal, its sails tilting sideways. The water around it bubbled with foam.
Someone began praying under their breath, another openly pissed himself.
And in every mind, the same creeping certainty none dared voice:
'She's being eaten alive.'
They didn't know how and didn't want to know. But with every new scream that arrived, every creak of the ship, they felt the weight of a truth: whatever was happening inside was not meant for human eyes.
All that remained was to hold their breath and pray their Pirate Empress would emerge unharmed.
…
In the depths of that very warship, where the air was as heavy as silence itself, a figure remained motionless in the lowest level of confinement.
Chained with Kairoseki shackles, stripped of all pride, all power, all identity—there she was… Crocodile.
Sitting against a cold, corroded wall, legs stretched forward, chin slumped onto her chest, eyes hollow, she resembled a statue from years past.
Her mind was no longer in the present, wandering dark corners, trapped in a loop.
She'd lost count of the days… or perhaps had simply stopped counting. The memories no longer hurt, but offered no refuge either. Not rage, not pain, not resignation.
It was… nothing.
Until she felt it.
!
A deep tremor shook everything around her.
At first subtle, like a shift in pressure. But then she felt it in every fiber of her being. She didn't smell it, didn't see it, didn't hear it… she perceived it.
"…"
Her breath cut off abruptly. Her neck prickled, her eyes—once lifeless—snapped open violently.
"N-No…"
That name didn't need to be spoken.
Tiberion Hanma.
Like lightning in the middle of a storm believed extinct, that presence surged through her body like a shock. Her skin prickled with goosebumps. Her heart pounded, but not from hope. From pure terror. From fury and a wound that never healed.
"G-Glup…"
Rage surfaced… the one she thought dead. The fear buried beneath layers of pride returned, more real than ever.
Her jaw clenched. The Kairoseki shackles kept her from moving… yet her entire body fought to break free.
"W-Why him…? Why n-now…?"
The panic, the tension, the terror… all ignited instantly, as if her guts remembered that monstrous presence that had been inside her.
"No… no, no, NO!" she whispered, at first, as if trying to convince herself it wasn't real.
But it was real.
It was here again.
"DAMN HIM!" she screamed, slamming the chains binding her wrists.
Her words began spilling deliriously, charged with rage and desperation:
"I have to kill him! HE HAS TO DIE!"
"ONLY BY KILLING HIM WILL I BE MYSELF AGAIN! ONLY THEN WILL I RECLAIM WHAT HE TOOK FROM ME!"
Her chest heaved, possessed by a hellish tremor, and the chains groaned with every movement.
"I can't keep living with his shadow crushing me! I WILL DESTROY HIM!"
"I WILL SHATTER THAT DAMNED PRESENCE THAT DROVE ME INTO FEAR!"
And she laughed wildly.
"I'M GOING BACK TO ARABASTA!"
"I'LL FORCE COBRA TO GIVE ME PLUTO'S LOCATION! AND WITH THAT POWER… I'LL ANNIHILATE TIBERION HANMA!"
And then… it became personal.
"I'M GOING TO RECLAIM MY VIRILITY!" she roared, tears scalding her eyes, "I'M A MAN!"
"NOT A DAMNED WOMAN!"
"I'LL CLAIM WHAT I WAS… WHAT HE STOLE FROM ME!"
The memories of that situation involuntarily returned to her mind, and each time they hurt more.
The feeling of humiliation, helplessness, and the emptiness she felt…
"AND I'LL TAKE VIVI! YES… THAT PRINCESS! AND I'LL USE HER AS THE KEY TO REBUILD MYSELF!"
Totally unhinged, she began thrashing violently.
She tried ripping the Kairoseki shackles off with sheer force, and her nails began bleeding. But she didn't stop.
"I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!"
…
At a certain distance from the beach, as Tiberion devoured the delicious serpent frenziedly, Gion walked tensely toward the mountain that had received the final blow.
"…"
The silence unsettled her.
No trace remained of the explosion that had shaken the village minutes before. Only floating dust… and a crack over thirty meters deep embedded in the hillside.
And there it was, the stone-embedded silhouette of Vice Admiral Garp.
"…"
Gion even forgot to breathe.
Slowly, she approached with her heart racing, and when she clearly saw the Vice Admiral's battered body, disbelief struck her.
"How…? How is he still intact?"
It was almost impossible.
She had witnessed the entire fight… seen Tiberion's speed and the force of his blows.
Yet… Garp's body wasn't reduced to pulp.
It was covered in blood, his skin scraped raw, his left arm entirely missing, his jaw dislocated, his torso bruised with purple contusions like spilled wine… but still recognizable.
HE WAS STILL ALIVE!
She couldn't believe it.
Tiberion had hurled him like a sack of meat, shattered him with countless strikes, and yet… Garp still breathed.
Her hands trembled.
She wanted to scream, but her voice wouldn't come. Only a stifled cry of shock escaped her.
"V-Vice Admiral…!"
She approached closer, knelt beside the rock, and tried to touch his face, slowly brushing the dust from his skin, hoping for some reaction.
But nothing. Garp remained unconscious.
Gion gritted her teeth and tried shaking him by the shoulders without hurting him.
"VICE ADMIRAL!! WAKE UP!! OLD MAN—!!"
"…"
But nothing.
Her lips tightened.
Seeing he wouldn't wake, she knew if she didn't get him out, he could die from internal injuries.
But she also knew that moving him wrong could kill him.
And so, swallowing her fear and uncertainty, she began carefully breaking the edges of the rock to free the body.
Each stone she removed revealed darker bruises, deeper cuts.
But she didn't stop.
And when she finally managed to pull him out completely, she cradled him with utmost care.
Moments later, in the mountain's silence, a stout figure appeared.
It was Dadan, a woman with a sturdy build, fierce face, and mournful gaze. Once a criminal, for years she'd lived as a caregiver to orphans, and shared a close bond with Garp, who trusted her with secrets he told no one else.
She had watched everything from the summit of Colubo Mountain, where she was sheltered with several villagers.
From there, the battle was perfectly visible.
Seeing Garp utterly shattered, armless, bloodied, unconscious, barely breathing, Dadan rushed to Gion and begged her to take him to her.
So together, they carefully dragged the Hero of the Navy's body to Dadan's family cabin, hidden in a secluded part of the mountain with a direct view of the sea and the village.
When the residents of Foosha Village saw Garp's mangled silhouette being carried by the Vice Admiral and a tearful Dadan, they ran without thinking.
And seeing him up close in that state, no one could hold back the pain.
"…"
And then she arrived.
Makino.
Seeing Garp in that condition, her heart clenched—but it wasn't just sadness she felt.
It was guilt.
Because when she learned Tiberion was the one who wounded him, an explosive mix of emotions overtook her.
Her first thought was denial.
She wanted to believe they were mistaken.
But the truth was inescapable.
Even though she knew who Tiberion was—and had "spoken" to him for only an hour.
But those hours had marked her deeply.
In that brief span, she had felt a real connection, and though they barely knew each other, she already felt he was hers.
In her heart, she already considered herself his woman.
And that's why the guilt was unbearable.
The man who made her feel alive had left the one her people loved most on the brink of death.
Yet, she did not regret it.
Makino pressed a hand to her chest and inhaled deeply, holding back tears.
Even if it was only a moment… even if she was just a passing figure in Tiberion's story… she had embraced it gladly.
Meanwhile, Garp, unconscious, sank into a deep sleep.
He saw fragments of his life… memories surging with force. He saw himself as a boy, still thin and trembling, struggling to lift a stone that barely weighed anything.
He remembered how, day after day, he forced himself to wake earlier, train harder, endure longer than anyone. The stance, the elbow angle, the punch's strength… he memorized every detail in blood.
Thousands of times he struck rocks until his knuckles split.
Tens of thousands of times he struck warship hulls until they cracked. And when those ran out, he started with mountains. Years upon years transforming his fists into the world's hardest, most feared weapons—more feared than any sword.
A life of sacrifice to forge what he feared becoming most: a legend.
Later, his memory brought back the faces of pirates he'd hunted. One by one, they fell. The entire sea became his battlefield… until one day, a mountain rose before him.
A mountain even he could not move.
A force so immense, so unfathomable, that it made him tremble truly for the first time.
Yet… he never gave up. His spirit kept him alive even when his body was shattered.
He wanted to topple that mountain.
He wanted to destroy it with a single blow, even if it meant sacrificing every bone in his body.
It was in that instant that something within him ignited.
The Seimei Kikan, buried deep within his mind, activated.
As if every cell in his body had received the command to fight, his organism surged violently. Blood flow skyrocketed. Damaged organs began repairing rapidly.
His flesh reconnected.
His muscles, torn and shredded, began tensing again. And his skin, dry and pale, regained its healthy, firm tone of youth within seconds.
His white hair darkened slowly, strand by strand, until it turned into wild, pitch-black locks. The wrinkles on his forehead and the marks of years vanished one by one, as if they'd never existed.
His chest expanded.
His body arched.
And his will, suppressed for years, erupted furiously.
BOOOOM
Time seemed to freeze for an instant.
A Conqueror's Haki on a scale rarely seen erupted from within—not a mere wave.
It was a crushing pressure expanding in all directions like an invisible deluge. The sky fractured into dark cracks, clouds evaporating within a kilometer radius.
From the mountaintop cabin to the farthest waters of the open sea, the shockwave advanced mercilessly.
Rocks shattered, trees bent under the pressure, animals fled in terror. Birds fell from the sky, and everyone present—except Gion—collapsed.
Only Gion, her entire body trembling and teeth clenched, managed to remain standing.
Her eyes were wide open.
Never in her life had she witnessed something like this.
This was not the Vice Admiral Garp she knew.
This was another man.
The presence radiating from his body was monstrous.
Crimson-black rays danced around him like snakes, electrifying the air with violent sparks.
The sky above the mountain had cleared completely, and the pressure waves erupting from his body made the ground creak beneath their feet.
His Conqueror's Haki was so overwhelming that the distant sea began to churn, reacting to his presence as if a new king had risen from the depths of hell.
Then, he opened his eyes.
And his gaze was no longer that of a tired old man.
They were the eyes of an awakened predator.
With a roar that shattered the cabin's roof, he bellowed:
"TIBERION HANMAAA!! COME, DAMNED BASTARD!! LET'S FIGHT AGAIN!!"
His voice, amplified by Haki, echoed from the mountaintop to the farthest reaches of the coast.
Immediately after, he unleashed his Observation Haki. His pupils dilated, and in less than a blink, he pinpointed Tiberion's exact location.
Then he activated all three types of Haki simultaneously.
His torso was coated in a deep, gleaming black Armament Haki with crimson reflections. At the same time, his Conqueror's Haki erupted once more—but this time not as an explosion… rather, as a constant tide, swirling around his body in violent arcs of energy.
Thunder crackled around him as if he were the epicenter of a storm.
It was impossible to look at him without feeling the pressure.
Then he launched himself forward, hurtling straight toward the beach.
…
In Foosha Village…
Amidst the silent chaos, everyone had fallen. Even Shirahoshi lay unconscious atop the Sea King's head.
However, Doflamingo and Jinbe remained standing.
Barely.
Sweat coated their brows, their bodies tense as if burdened by tons of weight, and their gazes remained fixed on the mountain's direction—from where that Haki had erupted.
"Tsk…" Doflamingo gritted his teeth, not out of fear… but from the intensity of what he felt. "So he was one of *them too…"
Even he, accustomed to associating with Kaido, hadn't anticipated such an eruption of Haki—and this was no ordinary presence.
And it seemed this wasn't just an awakening.
"That Haki…" murmured Jinbe, eyes narrowed, "It's too much…"
No one spoke for a few seconds. Only the howling wind through twisted trees and the lingering Haki sparks dancing in the air like crimson-black fireflies.
…
In the warship's cabin, the air was thick, humid, stifling—saturated with the dense scent of sweat and shared fluids.
The small bed was no longer a bed.
Splintered planks, embedded in a ruptured mattress, creaked irregularly every time Tiberion thrust his body forward.
The legs had long since snapped, unable to withstand the weight and violence of his onslaught. But what remained was enough—enough to hold the most beautiful woman in the world… while she was ravaged by the most dominant creature to ever tread the seas.
Tiberion, fully naked, drenched in sweat, muscles taut, loomed over her. Kneeling, feet planted firmly on the wood, his three-meter frame seemed even larger from this position.
His back arched forward to meet her gaze, hips descending at the speed of a blur.
*CHAP*
"HAAHH…" With a grunt, he buried his cock once more.
His shaft slid completely into Hancock's cunt, further distorting her insides with each thrust.
*PLAK* *PLAK* *PLAK*
Beneath him, Hancock's eyes were wide, defeated.
She was folded, legs raised to her chest, ankles locked in Tiberion's grip, held open effortlessly.
She was utterly spent, broken in body and soul—she'd never imagined her first time would be like this… No defiance remained, only submission. Her arms hung limp on the mattress, unable to move. Red marks marred her body, her long hair tangled and plastered to her sweat-drenched forehead.
Her legs trembled uncontrollably, her ass bouncing with each strike, her massive breasts, soaked in sweat, violently slamming against his torso with every thrust.
"A-ahh~… hnghh~… ahhh❤️~...!"
"No… more~~…!" she whispered weakly, unsure if she was crying, moaning, or both.
*SLAP* *SLAP* *SLAP*
The relentless sound of flesh pounding flesh echoed mercilessly.
"Aahhh…! HaAahh~❤️…! Hnnghh…!" she screamed again as he drove deeper, her legs convulsing like they'd been electrified.
Tiberion grinned, watching her unravel with each strike.
"That's it… moan, let it all out…"
With a sudden drop of his hips, his full weight slammed into her, lifting her body off the mattress for a split second before crashing her back down.
"AAHHH~~~❤️❤️…!!" she shrieked, spine arching.
Her vaginal walls could no longer distinguish resistance from begging. Her tongue hung slack between parted lips, her voice dissolving into fragmented gasps—
"Ah… ah… haaahh~❤️!… mmmnh… nnahhh~~…!! I~ can't… I can't take it anymore~~~❤️…"
Tiberion ignored her, grunting.
*PLAK* *PLAK* *PLAK*
Faster and faster.
*CHAP* *CHAP* *CHAP*
Deeper.
Eventually, Hancock stopped speaking altogether—only sobbing and moaning with each new thrust. A chorus of cries that only inflamed the monster further.
"Aaaahh~… nnnhhh…❤️~ahh… aahhh~…"
Her fingers clawed at the torn mattress, limp and powerless.
"Grr…"
Growling low, Tiberion released her ankles, leaning forward instead.
Teeth clenched, his chest grazing her swollen nipples, he lowered his head and seized one in his mouth.
The hardened nipple vanished between his fangs, squeezed mercilessly as he sucked without mercy. His tongue coiled around it, twisting, stretching it with his jaw's pressure.
"Mmm~❤️..."
A warm fluid spilled involuntarily—seeming like milk or sweat—and he licked it away without disgust, as if it were nectar.
Hancock arched her back, though it wasn't even a conscious reaction. Her body moved on its own, trembling with every thrust slamming down from the monstrous frame towering over her.
Her vaginal lips were already fully red and swollen. Each time he entered, her belly caved inward, and each time he withdrew, she gasped like her soul had been stolen.
With smiling eyes, Tiberion drove his pelvis into her again, making the mattress tremble and a creak echo through the room.
!
But suddenly… he stopped.
His body froze.
The large nipple trapped between his teeth was released, as if it had suddenly lost flavor. He pushed no more.
Not even a breath for a second.
Hancock, utterly defeated, barely noticed the change.
Her eyes still wide and hollow, her legs dangling at his hips, trembling.
Hardly conscious.
Tiberion, in contrast, was fully alert.
A shudder ran down his spine—a shockwave that snapped him from the trance.
His pupils constricted instantly, like a wolf catching another male's scent in its territory. He straightened and slowly turned his head, sniffing the air.
He felt it.
That Haki…
Annoyed, his eyes narrowed as if someone had ruined his moment of pleasure.
"Tch…" he spat with a growl, "It ruined my appetite."
"Pop…"
He rose in one motion, his still-hard member sliding out of Hancock's hot cunt, still glistening with fluids—but he no longer cared.
Desire for sex faded into the past.
Hancock lay on the bed like a broken doll, thighs spread and her cunt dripping with semen.
Air escaped her mouth in weak, shallow sounds, her eyes still lost, struggling to grasp what had just happened.
Without sparing her a glance, Tiberion walked out of the cabin, still naked, leaving behind the scent of sex and the sight of the world's most beautiful woman utterly broken.
Now, his instincts craved something else.
A fight.
The ship's deck was bathed in the last rays of sunset, but he didn't look to the sky. Only forward.
Toward the point where he could feel the world trembling faintly.
And then he jumped.
Just a subtle flex of his fingers against the wood—but still, the entire ship dipped slightly to one side.
Boom
His body shot straight into the air.
In mid-flight, the smile returned to his face—not one of pleasure, but anticipation.
And just as the horizon began to distort, another figure appeared in his line of sight.
Garp.
But this was no longer the battered old man he'd faced before.
No.
Now, he was a figure at his peak—his muscles rebuilt, skin taut, dark hair, fiery gaze.
He had practically been reborn.
His body radiated Haki, cloaked in black and scarlet lightning.
BOOOOOOM
Both fists collided mid-trajectory.
The air exploded between them, creating a momentary vacuum before unleashing a shockwave that shattered the clouds around them.
An invisible dome formed at the impact point, expanding in all directions, pushing the atmosphere itself.
And both vanished.
Lightning, sonic blasts, tremors—the entire world seemed to struggle to react to the speed of their movements.
One second, they were airborne, over a thousand meters high, spinning around each other while obliterating everything in their path.
The next, their bodies slammed into the ground, hurling tons of earth skyward. Then, already racing across the ocean surface at unimaginable speeds.
The skies turned red and black.
And if Gion, Jinbe, or Doflamingo didn't possess their level of Observation Haki, they wouldn't be able to follow even a single second of what was happening.
Their eyes were far too slow.
…
A few minutes later, inside the shattered warship cabin, silence slowly returned… though not entirely.
The echo of her own gasps still rang in Hancock's ears, mingled with the distant sound of explosions.
She remained naked, lying on her back amid the stained sheets of the mattress, her hair disheveled, her body slick with sweat.
She tried to move her legs… and a shiver pierced her.
A sharp spasm of pain surged from her groin to her stomach, making her frown.
"Mmh… ah…"
Her thighs trembled—literally.
And not from emotional weakness, but from the physical damage Tiberion had left inside her. She was swollen, sensitive, still wet. Every inch of her burned with an indescribable mix of piercing pain, lingering pleasure, and a strange emptiness.
Never… Never had she imagined her first time would be like this!
Violent, savage, and so devastating that even in her most depraved dreams, she'd never considered the possibility of feeling so utterly possessed. And yet… she smiled.
An exhausted smile—but filled with something entirely new: satisfaction.
She'd never imagined sex could feel this good.
So full…
Despite the pain—or perhaps precisely because of it—her chest swelled with a warm, radiant joy. She felt his marks, his scent, his fluids still on her skin, inside her. And what surprised her most wasn't the brutality of the sex… but how much she'd liked it.
Being dominated. Forced to surrender completely to him…
"Tiberion…" she whispered, a soft blush coloring her face as she lowered a trembling hand to her pussy, as if she could still feel him inside.
But the thunderous roar outside snapped her out of her trance.
The commotion was growing louder.
Sighing deeply, she forced herself upright with great effort.
Her legs ached, her hips, her back, her tongue… but above all, her vagina, where a constant burning throb pulsed with every step.
She walked slowly, legs apart, staggering, clinging to the walls to avoid falling.
She searched for her pareo—the only thing that could cover her. She wasn't wearing underwear, and the last thing she wanted was someone seeing her like this. She stepped onto the deck slowly, biting her lip every time her thighs brushed together.
Each step a reminder of what she'd endured.
She found the crumpled pareo near the railing, grabbed it with trembling hands, and wrapped her body the best she could. Then she carefully adjusted her blouse, which had been rolled up around her torso, and stretched it to fully cover her breasts.
But just as she leapt down from the ship…
BOOM
An explosion shook everything.
The ship groaned violently—a single punch split it in half.
It was Garp.
He'd arrived here.
The vessel split open as if sliced by a giant sword, and Hancock, heart clenching, legs barely responding, threw herself toward the shore.
She hit her knees in the sand.
"Nghh…!"
A cramp tore through her pelvis, forcing her to grit her teeth.
She almost collapsed, but she braced one hand against the sand, holding herself up. Her legs still trembled, the pareo slipping with every step, but on her face, there was more than exhaustion.
There was pleasure still lingering.
Pleasure… and fear.
Fear of craving something she knew would consume her entirely if it happened again.
And yet, she craved it.
She longed for Tiberion to be inside her once more.
…
From a distance, Jinbe saw it all with clarity.
The Haki they both unleashed didn't just envelop everything—it pushed and devoured it.
This was no longer a mere battle between powerful men. It was a cataclysm.
"…This has no brakes anymore," he murmured. "If they keep this up… the entire island could sink."
The balance of the fight was so evenly matched that he immediately understood: there would be no clear winner soon.
Without wasting more time, he carefully lifted Shirahoshi's unconscious body, who still hadn't recovered from the brutal Haki strike Garp had delivered.
He had to get her out of the East Blue immediately and return her to Fishman Island before a second shockwave reached them.
…
Not far away, Crocodile found herself in a critical situation.
When Garp destroyed the ship, she had been thrown into the sea and was unable to transform into her elemental form due to the Kairoseki handcuffs.
The water's surface hit her hard, and for a few moments, she drifted, coughing violently as she struggled to stay afloat…
And then, from above, a silver thread descended.
"I've got you!" Doflamingo shouted.
Moving his fingers, he manipulated his threads to wrap around Crocodile's torso, lifting her out of the water. With a single additional gesture, he shot a thread toward the handcuffs, slicing them open cleanly.
Back in the air, dangling from Doflamingo's threads, Crocodile gasped for breath. Her face, still streaked with water, showed more than exhaustion.
Her eyes trembled with a glint of terror. She couldn't stop thinking about Tiberion. She didn't even dare glance directly at where he was fighting.
Doflamingo noticed her odd state.
"You're unusually quiet, Crocodile," he said in a neutral tone as he set her down on sturdier ground. "Did that guy do something to you?"
She didn't answer. Only breathed rapidly, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the ground.
"Listen," Doflamingo continued, more serious than usual, "I don't care if you're shattered. If you want to get out of here alive, it's with me. Let's team up. First, we escape… then, we each go our separate ways."
Crocodile barely nodded.
She had no strength left to argue and no better plan.
Doflamingo studied her, not relaxing his hyper-alert expression for a second.
Despite his usual arrogance, fear seeped through the cracks in his face.
That battle… wasn't meant for them.
Though he noticed Crocodile was acting strangely, he couldn't pinpoint why.
Still, as long as Crocodile knew this region of the East Blue better, it was enough.
As long as he followed her, they could return swiftly to the Grand Line.
For her part, Crocodile cast one last glance at the island.
Not for Tiberion.
Nor for Garp.
But for herself.
Because she knew that as long as that shadow loomed over her, she wouldn't be able to breathe freely.
Arabasta awaited her.
And with it, her chance to reclaim control of her life.
________
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