"God, is the trial already over?"
Urouge, who had just rushed over, looked around in confusion.
He had only blacked out for what felt like a moment after being blown away—how come there wasn't a single person left on the field?
Could it be that in just that short span, he had already eliminated them all?
It seemed that was likely the case. As expected of the God of Skypiea—his power was terrifying.
He realized how naive he'd been before. Only after experiencing it firsthand could one truly understand how overwhelming God of Skypiea's strength was.
It was a kind of power that could be seen but not touched—so far beyond reach that he felt he'd never attain it in his lifetime.
Just being able to receive guidance from his God was already a blessing he would treasure deeply.
This time, he had to make the most of the opportunity—to perform well enough to catch God's attention.
As he made up his mind, Leno's voice drifted over.
"Their trials are over—but yours isn't." He pointed at Yamato, who had been waiting for quite some time.
"She's your next opponent. Give it your all and defeat her."
After setting up their match, Leno walked away with Hancock and casually found a place to sit.
"Leno, my lord, this concubine was wrong… I never meant to hide it from you…"
No sooner had they sat down than Hancock lay across Leno's lap, her tearful eyes gazing up at him pitifully.
From his tone earlier, she feared he might be angry—her heart was trembling with unease.
Seeing her so nervous, Leno couldn't help but chuckle. He gently ran his hand through her silky hair and spoke softly,
"You don't need to worry. I have no intention of blaming you."
"If anything, I'm happy to know your Devil Fruit has awakened."
With those words, Hancock's face instantly flushed crimson, and her smile overflowed like sunlight breaking through clouds.
She threw herself into Leno's embrace, nuzzling against him affectionately.
Looking at this obedient and easy-to-please woman, Leno couldn't help thinking once again—what more could a man possibly ask for?
A woman with beauty, figure, strength, and clinginess—all in one. Truly, a treasure girl.
As Leno silently thanked fate for giving him such a woman, Hancock spoke again in a shy whisper.
"L-Leno, my lord… this concubine can also… help you scrub your back…"
"…"
Hearing her bring that up again, Leno was momentarily speechless.
He had thought she didn't care—she hadn't shown any reaction before. But apparently, she had been stewing over it all along.
Whatever another woman could do, Hancock was determined to do better.
With that kind of spirit, Leno couldn't help but think again—what a treasure girl indeed.
There wasn't a trace of jealousy in her heart, only pure devotion toward him.
Feeling her sincere affection, Leno hugged her tightly.
No, this wouldn't do. He had to make Kuina and the others learn from Hancock—show them what it truly meant to be a wife!
They were always giving him attitude—did they think their captain's stick had gone soft?
It seemed the Captain's exclusive "club education" couldn't be lacking in the future, or else none of them would take him seriously.
As Leno indulged in his fantasies, grinning lewdly, Hancock tilted her head up in confusion.
He sat there, eyes curved like crescent moons, a faint gleam of drool at the corner of his lips—his expression downright indecent.
"Leno, my lord?"
"Hm? Ah—what is it, Hancock?"
Snapping back to reality, Leno quickly wiped the corner of his mouth and tried to act natural.
"Leno, my lord, your expression just now…"
"Oh, that? Nothing. I was just thinking about something, don't mind it."
Busted! He interrupted her mid-sentence and swiftly changed the topic.
"Right, what were you saying earlier? Scrubbing my back? Let's take a bath together later then."
Hancock nodded with a satisfied smile, nestling back into his arms—utterly content.
Fortunately, he was dealing with the love-brained Hancock. If it were anyone else...
Fortunately, he recovered fast—his reputation as a "wise captain" remained intact. Leno silently gave himself a thumbs-up.
Meanwhile, not far away, Yamato and Urouge's battle was in full swing.
The clang of clashing weapons echoed continuously, sparks flying in every direction as two figures of vastly different size collided fiercely.
Of course, Yamato was the one on the offensive—her kanabo swinging so fast it left afterimages, her relentless strikes falling like rain.
Urouge's massive pillar was powerful, but utterly lacking in agility.
He could only defend, clumsy and sluggish compared to Yamato's fluid assaults.
Occasionally, he managed a counterattack or two—but she blocked them with ease, crushing his hopes further each time.
The gap was immense. From the start, he had been completely overpowered.
He had wanted to impress God with a strong performance, but now he realized—he couldn't even fight back.
He knew Yamato was powerful—she had fought God head-on, after all. Her strength was unquestionable.
But a part of him had still hoped that his sheer size might pose some trouble for her.
Reality proved otherwise. He had overestimated himself—and underestimated Yamato.
Even without using her abilities or Haki, her raw physical strength alone was enough to keep him pinned down.
As time went on, Urouge's arms began to tremble and go numb, barely holding onto his pillar.
And before long, his fears came true.
With another loud clang, the pillar slipped from his grasp, spinning high into the air before crashing into the ground with a deafening boom, sending up clouds of dust.
Urouge knelt halfway down, staring blankly at his arms in disbelief.
He had lost—so quickly, and so pathetically.
Then—tap, tap, tap—the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from behind him.