Jerry ignored the whimpering thugs on the ground. The immediate priority was the little girl. He needed to check her injuries and figure out what to do next. He was about to turn and comfort her when a cold dread washed over him, a blaring red alarm from his Observation Haki. A new presence was behind him—calm, powerful, and overwhelmingly dangerous.
"Human traffickers..." a deep, monotone voice rumbled directly behind him. "If you were to take a trip, where would you like to go?"
Jerry's blood ran cold. He didn't have time to think. He instantly condensed a shield of water behind him as he threw himself forward, rolling a good ten meters across the grass.
He scrambled to his feet and looked back. A colossal figure now stood between him and the little girl. The man was immense, wearing a dark cloak and a strange, spotted hat from which two small, bear-like ears protruded. He held a bible in one hand.
Bartholomew Kuma. One of the Future Seven Warlords of the Sea.
Jerry's mind raced, recalling Skull's warning about this island. Wait, wasn't Kuma supposed to be a revolutionary at this point? He should only become one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea for Vegapunk help to help his daughter.
It didn't matter. The man was an unstoppable force, and he had clearly mistaken Jerry for one of the villains.
"Fishman Karate: Water Shot!"
There was no room for negotiation. Jerry gathered the moisture in the air, forming a cannonball-sized sphere of water in his palm. It was denser, more powerful than any he'd created before. He launched it straight at the giant.
Kuma, his face an emotionless mask, uttered a single, solemn phrase. "Repent."
He raised a hand, palm open. The air in front of it seemed to shimmer and distort. Jerry's high-speed water projectile slammed into the invisible barrier and stopped dead, held completely motionless in a bubble shaped like a bear's paw. With a casual flick of his wrist, Kuma sent the attack flying back at Jerry with even greater speed.
"Two can play at that game!" Jerry yelled. He braced himself, catching the water ball with open arms. Using the principles of Fishman Karate, he redirected its momentum, spinning it in a circle before thrusting it forward again.
Kuma grunted, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. Instead of repelling it again, he simply slapped the projectile aside, sending it careening into a small hill nearby. The resulting explosion sounded like a Marine cannon going off.
"Pad Cannon!"
Before the dust had even settled, Kuma vanished. In the blink of an eye, he was directly in front of Jerry, his massive palm striking forward at a speed that defied his size.
"You have got to be kidding me!"
It was all Jerry could do. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, coating them in the best Armament Haki he could muster, while simultaneously pulling every drop of moisture from the air to form a thick water cushion behind him.
The impact was absolute. Jerry's defense shattered in less than a second. He was launched backward like a ragdoll, crashing through a dilapidated woodshed. The water cushion exploded on impact, softening the blow just enough to keep his bones from turning to powder, but the shed disintegrated around him.
"Cough, tui!" Jerry spat out a mouthful of dust and wood splinters, his entire body screaming in protest. He quickly assessed the situation. He was completely, utterly outclassed. This wasn't a fight he could win. He wasn't the protagonist of this story; he couldn't just get a rage-fueled power-up and defeat a future Warlord. His skills, while growing, were leagues below Kuma's peak power. He needed a way out.
"You big meanie! Stop it! Don't you hit him!"
A tiny, furious voice cut through Jerry's frantic thoughts. The little girl, her fear momentarily forgotten, had seen her rescuer sent flying. Filled with a surge of desperate courage, she ran forward, her little legs pumping, and latched onto Kuma's massive calf.
The giant stopped, looking down. He squatted, his movements surprisingly gentle for a man his size, and his voice was soft, laced with genuine confusion.
"Little one," he asked, "is he not the trafficker who kidnapped you?"
"Kidnapper? Me?" Jerry pushed himself out of the wreckage, brushing splinters off his clothes. "Do I really look that much like a villain?" He saw his opening. "I think there's been a misunderstanding here."
"He's not the bad guy! They are!" the girl shouted, glaring at Kuma as she pointed a small, trembling finger at the groaning pile of thugs Jerry had taken down earlier. "They wanted to sell me! He saved me!"
Kuma looked from the girl to the defeated thugs, then back to Jerry. A flicker of something akin to embarrassment crossed his stoic face. "I see," he said, touching the back of his neck. "It seems I have made an error. My apologies. Are you injured?"
"Me? I'm fine," Jerry said, his ribs still aching. He walked over to the girl and knelt. "Little one, what's your name? Do your injuries still hurt?"
"My name is Shirley!" she said, her bright spirit returning now that the fighting had stopped. "And... yes, they still hurt a little." She bit her lip, wincing as the movement pulled at the whip marks on her arm.
"Allow me," Kuma said, his voice gentle. He stretched out his large palm and pressed it lightly against Shirley's arm.
A translucent, dark bubble in the shape of a bear's paw floated out of her body, hovering silently in the air.
"Eh?" Shirley blinked, then jumped up and down. "It doesn't hurt anymore! Not at all! Hehe, thank you, mister bear-man!"
"An amazing ability," Jerry whispered, watching in awe. He knew about the Paw-Paw Fruit, but seeing it in person—seeing pain itself be physically removed from a person—was surreal.
Kuma then grabbed one of the still-groaning traffickers by the collar and dragged him over to the floating bubble of pain. The moment the thug's body touched the bubble, it vanished, absorbed into him. His eyes shot wide open, and he let out a blood-curdling scream as all the agony Shirley had endured flooded his system at once.
Jerry looked from the screaming thug to the happily dancing girl, then up at the clear blue sky. A profound, philosophical thought came to him, born from the sheer absurdity of the moment.
So it's true, he mused to himself with a wry, internal smile. Love doesn't just disappear. It simply transfers to someone else.