"Take a look, Juniper. A treasure amongst treasures, is it not?"
"Yes, Saint Harloss. Very impressive."
In a large, overly decorated room with smooth marble floors and a huge golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the luxury was impossible to miss.
The walls were painted with scenes of Celestial Nobles in big battles and victories, with shiny stones outlining each painting.
Two figures stood in the centre of the room before a tall podium. Off to the side, a dark wooden table held bright fruits, sweet snacks, and pitchers of wine prepared for later.
The only way in or out was through a pair of tall matching doors made from silver and ivory, each marked with the symbol of the World Nobles. Guards stood at attention nearby.
At the centre, the ice sculpture stood like a prize, glowing from lights above and below, making it look like the most important thing in the room.
And based on the prideful and piggish stares it was currently getting from the two figures in the room, it was obvious that it was.
Soft classical music played in the background from strange devices tucked in the corners.
The ice sculpture showed a strange, lifelike person frozen in place. Its mouth was open a little, fingers curled like it was seemingly in pain or in the process of something else, and its face looked oddly aware.
The ice reflected light from the chandelier, sending colours dancing across the floor.
The man who had spoken, dressed in huge robes with the clear bubble helmet his kind always wore, looked at the statue with pride.
Saint Harloss, full of himself and pleased, stepped closer, his boots clicking against the floor.
"For over two thousand years, this piece has been passed around by emperors, pirate leaders, and kings. A sign of power. Of being important. Of being better."
He placed his hands behind his back. "And now, after that fun little auction in Sabaody...it's mine."
Juniper, his thin assistant with slicked-back hair and a sneaky look on his face, nodded with a small grin.
"A fine addition to your collection, sire. Oh, and just a reminder, the slave shipment you planned as a gift for the royal Neferataris will leave in about thirty minutes."
"Ah, yes," Harloss said with a dramatic sigh, waving his hand. "Can you believe I have to force them to take slaves? Royals without slaves are like ships without sails. It doesn't even make sense."
CRACK
They both stopped, Harloss raising an eyebrow and pausing as if he were trying to catch something.
CRACK
He turned as his eyes widened, witnessing his prized Ice piece begin to shake.
Before either of them could say a thing, spiderweb-like cracks began spreading through the statue.
"What..."
Then, with a loud SHATTER, it exploded, sending chunks of ice and a blast of steam everywhere. Harloss and Juniper raised their arms to protect themselves.
When the air cleared, the two looked back, only to witness someone standing where the statue used to be.
The figure was soaked, barely dressed with just a rag covering his waist, and looked weak, like he could fall at any moment. He breathed heavily, and his emerald eyes were wide and wild.
In a rough, raspy voice, he spoke, "Where...am I...who decided freezing a man alive made for a fine centrepiece...and where the hell is the Ice Guy...I need to have a word with him."
Harloss just stared. He spoke no words as his jaw, long having dropped, trembled.
Perhaps it was because he felt threatened, or most likely a natural response of muscle memory that made him slowly pull a golden pistol from his robes.
The frozen man didn't seem to care.
He suddenly let himself fall forward like a dropped bag, slamming his head into Harloss's face.
BANG
It looked clumsy, but it worked as evidenced by the loud and sickening crunch.
Harloss dropped to the ground, blood gushing from his nose, and his helmet cracked. The strange man fell too, but got back up, seemingly unbothered.
"Ugh. I was trying to do a cool flip or something. Guess we're going with dumb moves instead. It's probably because I've been on ice for...fuck knows how long."
He looked down at the knocked-out Celestial Dragon and began stomping on him.
"This is for the dumb helmet. This is for the weird clothes. This is for eye-fucking me all day...and this one's just for fun."
Each kick began to fall in sync with the classical music playing, almost as if he was mocking the fat man, disturbing cracks and other noises filling the air.
His foot hit the pistol. He picked it up and looked it over.
"Oh, nice, solid gold. What is it though? Never seen it before..."
"W-Wha...ARE YOU CRAZY?! YOU'VE DOOMED US ALL! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'VE JUST DONE?"
The man looked over at him.
"Hmm...Fat guy pointed it like this...then pressed here..."
BANG!
Juniper hit the floor, a sizable hole in the middle of his forehead.
The man froze, mouth in an O shape as his eyes slowly shifted between the gun and Juniper.
"Holy shit..."
Then grinned.
"Now that's what I'm talking about! I might never need to use a bow and arrow again."
Just then, the doors creaked open. A man dressed in a similar servant uniform to Juniper's stepped in.
"I heard some commotion and wanted to check if everything was..." he began, stopping mid-sentence as the sight before him froze him in place.
From his point of view, the once spotless floor was now littered with water, shattered ice, and blood.
Saint Harloss lay slumped in a crumpled mess, face broken and helmet cracked.
Juniper was no better, a coin-sized gash on his forehead, his eyes wide and empty, blood pooling beneath his head.
And standing at the centre of it all was a stranger, barely dressed, holding a pistol, and smiling as if he'd just been handed a gift.
The stranger raised his hands slightly, still holding the gun.
"I know how this all looks... bodies on the floor... blood in the cracks... and me, the half-naked guy with a gun... but in my defence, I was an ice sculpture five minutes ago, so we're all figuring things out together right now."
The servant didn't wait for another word. He turned on his heels and ran, the doors swinging behind him as he vanished down the hall.
The man simply blinked, then shrugged. "Yeah, I'd probably run too."
He lowered the pistol and looked down at it again, rotating it in his hand with mild curiosity.
"It can't be the weapon...doesn't make sense...it's just metal and a trigger...but pulling that thing took so much effort. It wasn't just my finger either...everything's heavy...walking...even talking without slurring is a damn job."
He looked at his hand for a long moment, flexing his fingers as if testing each joint.
"My body's not working right. Guess that's what happens when you get turned into a block of ice for...who knows how long. It's a miracle I'm even walking."
His eyes fell on the table filled with fruits and sweets.
Without hesitation, he stumbled over, grabbed a fistful of grapes and began shoving them into his mouth, laughing between chews.
"Finally...something in this room that doesn't piss me off."
He laughed, grabbing a green bottle with a carbonated clear liquid inside before taking a sip, his eyes widening in pleasure as he began to down it all at once.
With his mouth half full and wine running down his chin, he mumbled, "How long...how long's it actually been?"
He looked around the fancy room, scratching his head.
"And where the hell am I anyway? I've been all over the world and never seen people dressed like that weirdo..."
He picked up a pastry and bit into it. "I really hope Ice Guy's still alive. Got a bone to pick with him... freezing me like that..." he said, spitting crumbs as he talked.
He paused for a moment, then sighed. "I lost all my gear...and "her"."
"She was everything to me...sleek, dangerous, always knew how to move when I needed her to...we shared nights under stars, fled from things we shouldn't have poked, and tore through anything that stood in the way like it was a breeze...damn, I miss her...oh, my ship."
"The Scarlet Widow. Black hull, red sails, louder than thunder and meaner than a sea king in mating season...she deserved better than this."
The man loaded his arms with everything he could carry, tucking the wine bottle beneath his armpit and grabbing the gun with his free hand.
"Alright...time to bounce," he muttered, turning toward the large double doors.
But before he could take another step, the silver-and-ivory doors burst open with a loud clang.
A dozen men in matching silver armour stood in formation, swords drawn, spears levelled. Their leader, standing a bit ahead, raised his voice.
"By order of the Holy Guards of the sacred land of Mary Geoise, you are to cease this chaos and surrender honora—"
He didn't get to finish.
HUUUU
The ragged figure's body suddenly glitched.
Silence fell.
Then, in the next breath, the world seemed to catch up.
The stranger now stood behind the guards, food still stacked in his arms, wine bottle still under his armpit, and a gun hanging lazily in one hand.
THUD
THUD
THUD
The guards began to fall, one by one, eyes rolling back, weapons slipping from their hands.
Not a sound came from them beyond the dull thuds as they hit the floor.
He kept walking, stepping over bodies without care. "Mary Geoise, huh? Never heard of it."
He took a bite of something sweet. "Whatever. Not my kind of crowd anyway."