-Real World: Going Merry-
The welcome banquet for Robin had barely begun when the Sky Screen's attention shifted back to the underground battle, forcing the crew to watch their newest member fight for her life in vivid, terrifying detail. The juxtaposition was jarring—Robin sitting safely among them on the deck while simultaneously being shown as a torch-like figure engulfed in flames.
"Isn't this getting a bit intense?" Nami asked with growing concern, her navigator's instincts recognizing the tactical disadvantage her future crewmate faced. "That's Trebol, one of Doflamingo's top four executives. His Beta Beta no Mi (Stick-Stick Fruit) is no joke—if he can overpower Chopper's Monster Point form, his power must be incredible."
"You're worrying too much," Luffy declared around a mouthful of food that would have choked a normal human being. His rubber physiology allowed him to stuff enormous quantities into his mouth while continuing to speak, though the effect was admittedly grotesque to witness.
The captain's stomach had already expanded to accommodate several times his body weight in consumed food, yet he showed no signs of slowing down. His appetite was legendary even among the Grand Line's various monsters, capable of bankrupting entire restaurants in a single sitting.
"After five years, everyone becomes way stronger," Luffy continued with absolute confidence, somehow managing to convey certainty despite the ongoing massacre in his mouth. "The enemies there won't be enough to challenge us when we're at full power."
His faith in his crew's development was unshakeable, based not on wishful thinking but on the evidence the Sky Screen had provided about their future capabilities. If the broadcast showed them succeeding, then success was inevitable—the only question was how they would achieve it.
In fact, just as Luffy predicted, Robin isn't some helpless woman who can be easily defeated, the captain thought with growing excitement. She's a queen among pirates, and she's about to prove it.
-Broadcast-
"What the hell?" Trebol's wet, unpleasant voice carried a note of genuine confusion as he watched the flames engulfing Robin's form. The fire was burning exactly as intended, his flammable mucus providing perfect fuel for the conflagration, but something was fundamentally wrong with what he was witnessing.
The target has stopped struggling, he observed with growing unease. But the body isn't being consumed by the flames. How is that possible?
His Beta Beta no Mi should have ensured complete incineration within seconds. The mucus he produced contained accelerants specifically designed to create temperatures hot enough to reduce human bodies to ash, yet Robin's silhouette remained intact within the inferno.
"This isn't right," Trebol muttered, instinctively raising his arms to protect his face as the flames began fluctuating in ways that defied natural combustion patterns.
The human-shaped torch exploded without warning, but instead of the expected blast of heat and light, what erupted from the fire was a storm of black petals that moved with surgical precision. Each petal edge gleamed like polished obsidian, cutting through the air with enough force to slice steel as if it were paper.
Trebol, being closest to the explosion's epicenter, bore the brunt of the assault. Dozens of razor-sharp petals embedded themselves in his slovenly form, creating what should have been fatal wounds across his torso and limbs.
But there was no blood.
The mucus coating, he realized with relief. It's acting as protective armor, absorbing the kinetic impact before the petals can reach my actual body.
His defensive strategy had worked, but the implications of what he had just witnessed were deeply disturbing. Robin hadn't been killed by his attack—she had been transformed by it, evolved into something that could weaponize her own apparent destruction.
When the last of the black petals settled and the supernatural flames finally extinguished, what stood before him was no longer recognizably human.
A female demon materialized from the dissipating fire, her form towering nearly twenty meters in height. Massive black wings spread from her shoulders like shadows given physical form, while her body maintained the essential proportions and features that marked her as Robin despite the dramatic transformation.
Her skin had taken on an otherworldly quality, darker than natural human pigmentation but still recognizably feminine. The transformation had left her unclothed, her form displayed with the kind of supernatural confidence that belonged to beings who had transcended human concerns about modesty or vulnerability.
"So you coat yourself in defensive mucus," the demon-Robin observed, her voice carrying new resonance that seemed to echo from impossible depths. "You must be quite frail underneath all that protection."
One of her breasts was literally larger than Trebol's entire body, the scale differential emphasizing just how dramatically her transformation had altered the battlefield dynamics. But rather than inspiring lust or distraction, her presence radiated a supernatural menace that made even hardened criminals reconsider their life choices.
Is this the true power of her Devil Fruit? Trebol wondered with growing alarm. Some kind of metamorphosis ability that activates under extreme duress?
Before either combatant could engage, the other battle raging nearby reached its conclusion with devastating finality.
Monet's Yuki Yuki no Mi (Snow-Snow Fruit) had proven decisive against Chopper's Monster Point form. The little reindeer's lack of Armament Haki meant he couldn't actually damage a Logia user in her elemental state, while her ability to regenerate from snow and wind made conventional attacks useless.
A hundred rounds of futile combat, Monet thought with satisfaction as she watched the giant deer's movements grow increasingly sluggish. His defensive capabilities are impressive, but without the ability to actually harm me, this was always going to be a war of stamina.
Her strategy had been simple but effective: bite and claw attacks that injected supernatural cold directly into Chopper's bloodstream, gradually freezing his circulatory system from within. Each wound she inflicted became a point of entry for arctic temperatures that his natural cold resistance couldn't counteract.
Ice crystals had formed throughout Chopper's internal organs, disrupting blood flow and cellular function until his massive form could no longer support its own weight. The Monster Point transformation collapsed with earth-shaking force, leaving the ship's doctor unconscious in a crater of his own making.
"There's no way this animal is only worth a hundred berry bounty," Monet complained as she delivered a final kick to ensure Chopper remained unconscious. "The Marines' bounty system is completely broken if they think this level of combat capability belongs to a 'pet.'"
Her intelligence officer background made her particularly sensitive to the gap between official government evaluations and actual threat assessment. Chopper had just demonstrated Admiral-candidate level defensive capabilities while maintaining perfect tactical coordination with his partner—yet the World Government classified him as essentially worthless.
The bounty system needs a complete overhaul, she thought with professional frustration. No wonder the Marines keep getting surprised by 'rookie' crews.
Robin's demon form immediately focused on her fallen partner, supernatural senses detecting the extent of his injuries with clinical precision. Zoan users are resilient, she reminded herself, but he needs medical attention soon. I should have revealed this transformation earlier instead of letting him absorb so much damage.
"Miss Robin," Trebol called out with false reasonableness, his scepter-staff held ready for immediate combat despite his diplomatic tone. "The odds are now two against one in our favor. Why don't you consider joining the Donquixote Family? We have historical texts in our collection, and the young master always has need for people with your particular talents."
Monet positioned herself behind the demon-Robin, cutting off potential escape routes while preparing for coordinated assault. As one of Doflamingo's most devoted followers, she was determined to capture the Devil Child intact for her beloved leader's purposes.
They think numbers give them the advantage, Robin thought with dark amusement. How little they understand about what they're truly facing.
"It's not two against one," the demon-Robin replied, her otherworldly voice carrying undertones that made the underground chamber seem to echo with supernatural resonance. "Nor is it three against one."
She turned her massive head toward Baby 5, who was still cradling Buffalo's corpse with the desperate grief of someone who had lost their childhood companion. The maid's emotional breakdown had removed her from combat effectiveness, leaving her vulnerable and distracted.
"It's two against two," Robin announced with absolute confidence just as a golden blur materialized beside her demonic form.
The figure that appeared would have been impossible to mistake for anyone else, despite the dramatic changes in appearance and attire. Sanji now stood revealed in his complete okama transformation.
Gothic lolita fashion. the frilly miniskirt and elaborate petticoats creating a jarring contrast with his obviously masculine physique. Muscle definition strained against the delicate fabric while body hair emerged from gaps in his costume with unshaven persistence.
The high heels he wore looked absurdly inadequate for his weight and fighting style, yet he moved with the same fluid grace that had always characterized his combat techniques. A jeweled circlet adorned his blonde hair, completing the transformation from suave chef to full-fledged crossdressing warrior.
"Robin-chan, you look absolutely stunning in this form," the transformed Sanji declared with complete sincerity, his voice carrying new inflections that suggested years of okama kingdom training. "Though perhaps being unclothed in front of all these crude men isn't ideal. Don't worry—I'll simply eliminate all the witnesses."
Only then did the Donquixote executives notice what the okama-Sanji was carrying in his left hand.
A severed head—specifically, the bald, weathered head of an elderly man whose expression was frozen in an eternal grimace of surprise and pain.
"Lao G," Monet whispered with recognition and growing alarm. "I didn't expect the old man to die so easily."
The death of another family executive didn't carry emotional weight for the surviving members—they had all accepted the possibility of violent death when they chose the pirate lifestyle. But Lao G's elimination suggested that their opposition possessed capabilities they hadn't properly assessed.
"He was a dedicated martial artist," Sanji observed casually as he tossed the severed head at Trebol's feet with theatrical flair. "Truly committed to his training right up until the end. Unfortunately, age had robbed him of the physical capabilities needed to match his technical skills. I hope you two will provide more entertaining opposition."
The Okama Kenpō gloves gleamed with an inner light that with it Devil Fruit enhancement, while his entire demeanor radiated the confidence of someone who had just effortlessly eliminated a supposedly elite opponent.
Wappu-Wappu no Mi, Robin realized as she observed the residual energy signatures around her crewmate. He must have marked my position earlier and used instantaneous movement to reach the battlefield. Tactical coordination even across impossible distances.
Doflamingo had clearly underestimated the infiltration team, leaving only second-tier executives to handle what he assumed would be a routine prisoner extraction. The oversight was about to prove costly.
-Real World: Going Merry-
The present-timeline Sanji had frozen in absolute horror, a massive nosebleed erupting from his nose as he processed what he was witnessing on the Sky Screen. Robin's demon form was magnificent in ways that transcended normal human beauty, but the sight of his own future transformation had completely overwhelmed his psychological defenses.
"That is absolutely, definitely NOT me!" he screamed with desperate denial, his voice cracking under the strain of emotional trauma. "The Sky Screen is lying! It's showing some alternate dimension where everything went wrong! I would never, EVER become a crossdresser!"
But his protests carried the hollow ring of someone trying to convince himself rather than his audience. The evidence was undeniable—the fighting style, the voice patterns, the protective instincts toward Robin, even the cooking-related mannerisms were all unmistakably Sanji's.
"But look how fabulous you are, darling!" one of his okama admirers called out from the fan flotilla, their ship having moved closer to get a better view of the Sky Screen. "Such dedication to the aesthetic! Such commitment to the transformation! You're absolutely perfect okama material!"
"We knew you had the potential from the beginning!" another crossdressing pirate added with enthusiastic support. "The way you move, the way you care for women, the underlying grace—it was obvious you belonged with us!"
More voices joined the chorus of approval from the fan ships, creating a cacophony of encouragement that made Sanji's denial seem increasingly futile.
But words are pale, Sanji's transvestite fans surrounded him, "they" thought Sanji was a strong candidate to compete for the king of the transvestite kingdom