In the hierarchy of the Big Mom Pirates, the title of "Minister" isn't just a fancy label.
These are the core members of the crew, the direct bloodline of Charlotte Linlin.
Most of them are children born from her endless string of political marriages.
In any other pirate crew on the seas, a Minister would be a top-tier executive, a captain in their own right.
That was exactly why Charlotte Smoothie froze.
She stared at her brother's body.
The intruder had swatted him like a fly.
Instant death.
Smoothie's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.
'To kill a Minister that easily... this guy is at least on par with the top three Sweet Commanders. Snack couldn't do this. Only Katakuri, Cracker, or I could pull this off.'
She completely ignored the battered Cavendish lying in the snow.
He was irrelevant now.
All her attention was locked on the tree line, where a figure was slowly emerging from the shadows.
A dozen seconds later, he stepped into the light.
Silver hair. Red eyes. A strang long white scarf floating behind him like a living tail.
The moment Smoothie saw his face, her heart hammered against her ribs!
She inhaled sharply as the cold air stinging her lungs.
"Ray..." she hissed. "The Cold Prince."
Her mind raced.
'Weren't you supposed to be in the first half of the Grand Line?'
Just a few days ago, she had received a Den Den Mushi call from Big Mom herself.
Big Mom had said Ray might show up in Totto Land within a month to try and steal his dog back.
But—it had only been ten days since the battle at Enies Lobby.
How could he possibly be here already? Big Mom was still passing through Fish-Man Island on Zeus.
Smoothie felt a knot of tension tighten in her stomach.
As the Second Sweet Commander, she wasn't stupid. Her mother had explicitly stated that even she—an Emperor of the Sea—couldn't quickly subdue Ray.
In their entire massive crew, there was only one person who could realistically hold his own against Big Mom for any length of time: her big brother, the invincible Charlotte Katakuri.
'If even Mama struggling againts him,' Smoothie realized, her grip on her sword tightening, 'then I am out of my depth.'
Out of sheer caution, Smoothie didn't move.
She stood her ground, analyzing him, knowing that attacking recklessly was a death sentence.
But as Ray drew closer, something changed in Smoothie's eyes.
When she really looked at him, she saw the flawless, sharp features.
The cold, aloof demeanor that screamed "danger." The red eyes that looked at her like she was an insect.
And right then... it clicked.
The "Horny Syndrome" activated.
It was a curse of her bloodline, perhaps, or just the twisted mechanics of this world.
Once Smoothie identified Ray as an enemy, that specific "syndrome" triggered an intense, irrational impulse in her brain.
It bypassed her logic and went straight to her instincts.
'He's strong. He's handsome. He's perfect.'
A voice whispered in her head, drowning out her tactical training.
'Defeat him. Break him. Take him back to Whole Cake Island. Make him bear your children.'
Logic? Gone. Caution? Evaporated.
"RAAAH!"
In an instant, Smoothie moved.
She drew the massive greatsword from her back.
Her legs flexed, cracking the cobblestones beneath her boots. She launched herself like a missile, charging straight at Ray.
"Mine!" she screamed.
It was a full-power slash.
She didn't hold back a single ounce of strength. She intended to crush him and drag his unconscious body home.
Ray didn't flinch.
He remained remarkably calm, watching the giant blade descend.
At the last second, he simply extended his right hand.
CLANG!
Flesh met steel.
Ray blocked the Sweet Commander's full-power slash with his bare palm.
BOOM!
A terrifying shockwave exploded outward from the point of contact.
The nearby wooden houses didn't stand a chance—they were flattened instantly, turned into splinters.
Within a twenty-meter radius, the thick layer of snow was blasted away, vaporized into a fine mist that swirled around them like a blizzard of white cherry blossoms.
As for Cavendish?
The poor guy was already lying on the ground, incapacitated.
When the shockwave hit him, he was sent flying.
"WAAAAAH!"
He was blown away by the hurricane-force winds, tumbling end over end through the snow until his back slammed into a stone pillar forty meters away.
CRACK.
"Ugh~" Cavendish spat out a mouthful of blood, sliding down the pillar.
Coincidentally, fate had a twisted sense of humor.
The female captive from earlier—the one who had confessed her love for Cavendish—was also blown away by the blast.
She flew through the air and crashed headfirst right into Cavendish's chest.
"OOF!"
Cavendish choked, suffering additional internal injuries from the human projectile.
He spat another mouthful of blood, this time right onto the girl's neck.
"Ah! Cavendish-sama!" The girl scrambled off him, frantic. "Are you alright?! I... I didn't mean to tackle you! Oh no, your beautiful shirt!"
She was terrified she had damaged her prince charming!
Cavendish couldn't speak.
He just waved his hand at her weakly, signaling her to get away, while his eyes remained glued to the battlefield ahead.
'Who is that?' Cavendish thought, squinting through the snowstorm.
That silver-haired guy... he blocked Smoothie? With his HAND?
Cavendish knew his own strength.
When he fought Smoothie earlier, his strongest attacks barely made her flinch. But this newcomer just stopped her like he was catching a baseball.
"Whoever it is," Cavendish wheezed, "defeating that terrifying woman is going to be impossible."
After being thoroughly dominated by Smoothie just minutes ago, Cavendish had zero confidence in anyone challenging her.
"A Yonko's Commander... they're monsters," he muttered. "They aren't human."
For the first time, the "Pirate Prince" truly understood what it meant to be at the pinnacle of the World.
As this year's top Supernova, he had been arrogant.
He thought he could challenge an Emperor.
Instead, he couldn't even get past a subordinate and he had been beaten like a helpless chick.
Yet... looking at the silver-haired man standing unmoving in the storm, Cavendish felt a tiny glimmer of hope.
'Please,' he prayed silently. 'Just hold out a little longer. Distract her. Once I can move again, I'll jump in. I'll help you take her down.'
So, while hastily wrapping a bandage around his bleeding waist, Cavendish watched the fight, waiting for his moment to shine.
...
Back in the center of the crater, Smoothie had sobered up.
Fast.
In the time it took Cavendish to catch his breath, Smoothie had fully experienced the terrifying reality of Ray's strength.
Her slash—infused with her Haki, backed by her strength—had been stopped cold.
Ray's hand hadn't budged an inch.
She had used Armament Haki on her blade. Yet, looking at Ray's right hand, there was only a faint white mark on his palm.
Not a cut. Not a bruise. Just a mark, like someone had pressed a fingernail into his skin.
'What the hell is he made of?'
At that moment, the hormone-addled fog in Smoothie's brain cleared up halfway.
The realization hit her like a bucket of ice water.
'His physical strength... it feels almost comparable to Mama's.'
But old habits die hard.
Since it was only their first exchange, Smoothie's arrogance kicked back in. She naively speculated that maybe Ray was just a tank.
He blocked it, sure. Maybe he's just exceptionally strong in defense, she reasoned.
If he's a defensive specialist, he can probably stall her for a while.
But can he attack?
The "syndrome" surged again.
Her impulsive brain took over her body once more!
"Don't get cocky!" she shouted.
Smoothie transferred most of her Haki into her giant sword, turning the blade pitch black.
She launched a flurry of wild, high-speed slashes.
SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!
She believed that as long as her attacks were powerful enough and fast enough, she would eventually break through Ray's guard.
She hacked, she kicked, she thrust.
But every single move was met by Ray's right hand. He parried, slapped, and blocked with bored precision.
Finally, after a dozen exchanges, the truth sank in.
Ray wasn't struggling.
He was bored.
His performance made it abundantly clear that his strength wasn't limited to defense. His reaction speed was leagues above hers. He was blocking her attacks from blind angles without even looking.
'Physical attacks aren't working,' Smoothie realized, panic starting to set in. 'I have to use my fruit power.'
'I'll drain him dry.'
She changed tactics.
She threw her giant sword into the air as a distraction.
Then, she lunged forward with both hands open, aiming to grab Ray's thighs.
'If I touch him, I can wring the liquid out of him!'
"Got you!" she yelled.
But that was the moment Smoothie knew, she fucked up.
"Too slow," a voice whispered.
At that moment, Smoothie witnessed what true, godlike speed looked like.
Just as her large hands were inches away from Ray's legs, he didn't dodge.
He didn't move away; he simply ceased to exist in that spot.
Where—?
Before her brain could even register that he was gone, her eyes caught movement.
She saw a long object flying into the sky, spinning, spraying blood against the white snow.
'Is that... an arm?'
'Wait. That's a long-arm tribe's arm. That sleeve...'
'Is that... MY arm?'
Her mind was reeling.
Then, she saw her left arm fall from her body with a wet thud.
'Both of them?!'
While she was still trying to process the fact that she was now armless, she suddenly felt a heavy hand press against the back of her head.
SLAM!
Ray forced her face down with crushing force.
She was forced into an intimate, violent kiss with the frozen ground. The stone shattered under her skull.
CRUNCH.
Pain finally flooded her system.
Feeling the warm blood streaming down her forehead and the phantom sensation of missing limbs, Smoothie fully awakened from her delusion.
The "syndrome" was gone and her previous arrogance gone.
Only fear remained.
'To have dared attack Ray... i truly overestimated myself.'
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