The vast plaza of Whole Cake Island was packed with people, a crowd of pirates gathered to watch the spectacle.
"Hurry! Catch up to him!"
"Idiots! Useless trash! If you get caught, you'll be doing handstands bare-assed!"
On the ground, a circular track had been painted across the plaza.
At this moment, four pirates were panting heavily as they ran.
Among them, the fat Moria was struggling to move his short legs as he chased after the Gifters ahead.
Not far behind him, a bare-chested man with a lean, muscular physique gripped a thick black iron rod, eyeing Moria's plump ass with ill intent.
"Mini Impact Bullet."
With a swing of his short rod, Gin unleashed a spherical energy wave that crossed dozens of meters before slamming into Moria's backside with a thud, sending him tumbling forward in a series of somersaults.
"Cough, huff... huff... Damn you, Gin! I'll kill you—I swear I'll kill you! How dare you treat me like this?!"
A gash had opened on Moria's face from the fall, blood trickling down.
"Hahaha, Moria. If you don't keep running within three seconds, I won't just be firing shockwaves at you."
Gin tightened his grip on the iron rod, a sinister grin twisting his lips.
Clad only in a tight pair of shorts, his bulging muscles coiled like serpents, the tendons on his back twisting into the grotesque visage of a demon.
"Kishishishi, damn it... If it weren't for these Sea Stone chains, I'd have escaped this hellhole long ago."
Moria was shackled with chains laced with Sea Stone—a precaution to prevent him from using his abilities to cheat.
The amount of Sea Stone was minimal, so it didn't drain his stamina too severely.
Gin wasn't joking.
Moria knew all too well the ruthless nature of this man.
Immediately, he pushed himself off the ground and resumed his desperate sprint.
Indeed, Gin had been tasked by Caesar with trimming Moria's excess fat within three days.
And now, he had dragged a few unlucky Gifters into this "training game."
First, he had counted how many articles of clothing Moria was wearing.
Then, he assigned an equal number of Gifters to run ahead.
Moria's mission was simple: catch up to the Gifters.
For every one he caught, he could keep one piece of clothing. For every one he failed to catch, he would lose one.
The rules seemed straightforward—what did a grown man care if he was left in just his underwear? It wasn't embarrassing.
But Gin had added another condition: if Moria failed to catch even one of the four pirates ahead, he would be stripped naked and forced to do a handstand in the plaza as punishment.
To motivate the Gifters, Gin had also set rules for them.
If any of them were caught by Moria, they too would be stripped and made to do handstands in the plaza for all to see.
The four Gifters sprinting ahead cursed Gin inwardly—this was clearly meant to punish Moria, so why were they dragged into it?
But who could argue?
Gin held considerable authority now.
Caesar had instructed Katakuri to accommodate Gin's requests as much as possible.
"Time's almost up. If you haven't caught anyone yet, I'll have to start punishing certain people."
Gin's voice behind Moria was like the whisper of a devil, prompting a desperate howl from the latter as he summoned unprecedented speed, charging toward the Gifters ahead.
"Brothers up front, slow down! Let me catch at least one of you! I'm Gecko Moria—I'm rich! I'll give each of you ten million Beri!"
The Gifters in front didn't even turn his head as he snorted coldly, "Screw you! Think we've never seen money before? The four of us will pool two million for you—you stop right there! You're just one guy, and there are four of us. Better one person lose face than all four!"
Moria was running so hard he was drenched in sweat, his lungs burning.
How he missed his days in the Florian Triangle.
Sure, it was perpetually shrouded in mist, gloomy and sunless.
But every day, he could lounge in his castle, sleeping soundly, enjoying delicious food, sipping ice-cold cola, and watching beautiful zombie women dance.
"Hell—this is hell! Damn it!"
"Countdown begins! 10!"
"9!"
Gin started the countdown.
Moria's eyes were bloodshot as he noticed a sleazy, overweight man in the crowd raising his camera high, aiming it straight at him.
Moria couldn't believe it.
If a photo of him, a former Seven Warlord of the Sea, running around bare-assed got out, the consequences would be unimaginable.
"7!"
"6!"
"Aaaahhh!"
The thought of his disgrace being witnessed by the entire world—including his peers—drove Moria to complete breakdown.
Fueled by some inexplicable surge of strength, a fire ignited in his heart, and his speed suddenly skyrocketed.
Howling like a madman, Moria sprinted with everything he had.
Just before Gin finished the countdown, his massive body lunged forward, crashing into all four Gifters and sending them sprawling to the ground.
'Clap clap clap.'
Gin strolled over, applauding, and stopped in front of Moria with a faint smile.
"Congratulations, Moria. You've successfully avoided the danger of going bare-assed."
Moria lay on the ground, gasping for air, too exhausted to speak, his entire body aching.
But on his face was a look of pure exhilaration.
This feeling—it was like being reborn!
"You lot are absolute trash! Getting overtaken by a fat pig—is this what Gifters are? What a waste of all those artificial Devil Fruits! Go punish yourselves before I do it for you."
Gin's icy glare sent chills down the spines of the four Gifters, freezing them to the bone.
The four exchanged uneasy glances.
One of them, unwilling to back down, muttered, "Who the hell are you to discipline us? You've got no right—you just joined—"
Before he could finish, Gin swung his iron club, smashing it into the man's head.
With a thud, he collapsed, blood streaming down his face.
Gin stepped forward, stripped the man of his clothes, and dragged him to the center of the plaza before tossing him down.
Gulp.
The remaining three Gifters trembled as Gin slowly raised his iron club again.
"Don't hit us! We'll do it ourselves!"
With that, the three of them, faces twisted in misery, stripped off all their clothes under the jeers of the surrounding pirates and lay bare-assed on the ground.
What else could they do? Standing wasn't an option.
But the weather was unbearably hot, and it was high noon—the scorching sun turned the plaza's ground into a blistering griddle.
The moment the Gifters touched the ground, they shrieked like slaughtered pigs, clutching their groins in agony.
Click click click.
Queen snapped away with his camera, capturing every moment.
"Alright, let's move on to Round Two. Same rules apply."
Gin flashed Moria a vicious grin.
Moria shivered, his lips trembling as he pointed at Gin, unable to speak.
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