-Real World: Going Merry-
The sight of Sanji's arrival on the Sky Screen brought visible relief to the Straw Hat Pirates gathered on deck, but the emotional impact varied dramatically among the crew members. While they were reassured to see reinforcements reaching the underground battle, the psychological implications of what they were witnessing cut far deeper than simple tactical concerns.
Tony Tony Chopper sat in brooding silence, his small form hunched as he processed his own performance in the future conflict. Despite achieving Monster Point mastery that would have been impossible just days ago, despite surviving attacks that should have killed him instantly, he had ultimately failed to defeat his opponents.
I could only delay them, the little reindeer thought with crushing disappointment. Even with all that power, even with Robin counting on me, I couldn't actually win the fight.
The knowledge stung more than any physical injury. Chopper had joined the Straw Hat Pirates to fulfill Dr. Hiriluk's dying wish—to become a man who could help people, who could make a difference in the world. But watching himself fall unconscious while his partner faced multiple enemies alone made him feel like the helpless pet others had always assumed him to be.
I don't want to be a burden to my friends, he resolved with quiet determination. I want to become someone they can rely on, someone worthy of their trust. I need to get stronger—much stronger.
His medical training had taught him to analyze weaknesses systematically, and he was already mentally cataloguing the flaws in his Monster Point performance. Lack of Armament Haki, insufficient endurance under extreme conditions, vulnerability to internal temperature manipulation—all problems that could theoretically be solved with dedicated training.
Hiriluk-sensei always said that giving up was the only real defeat, Chopper reminded himself. I won't give up. I'll find a way to become the doctor this crew deserves.
Nearby, Nami was grappling with her own concerns about the future battlefield dynamics. The Sky Screen had shown okama-Sanji using some form of instantaneous movement to reach Robin's position, which raised uncomfortable questions about her own role in similar situations.
If Sanji can teleport across battlefields, she wondered with growing unease, what happens to me when we're separated? That perverted cook would never abandon me to face enemies alone, but his protective instincts might leave me isolated from the main combat zones.
Her strategic mind was already working through the implications. As the crew's navigator and tactician, being removed from active combat zones would limit her ability to coordinate team movements and respond to changing battlefield conditions. She needed to develop capabilities that would make her valuable as a frontline combatant rather than someone who required constant protection.
The Sky Screen showed me with some kind of weather manipulation abilities, she recalled. If I can master those powers, I won't be a liability that needs protecting. I can become someone who protects others.
The determination in her thoughts matched the resolve building in Chopper's mind. Both crew members were recognizing that their current power levels, while impressive for their age and experience, wouldn't be sufficient for the challenges their future selves would face.
-Broadcast-
The location that appeared on the Sky Screen bore only vague resemblance to its original state. Where once a vibrant section of Dressrosa had bustled with civilian activity, now only devastation remained. Massive footprints scarred the earth where Colossal Titans had walked, while black scorch marks showed where lightning had repeatedly struck the same targets.
The aftermath of Eren's rampage was written in the landscape itself—broken buildings, cracked foundations, and an air of desolation that spoke to the systematic destruction that had occurred during the festival massacre.
High above the ruins, Nami floated with casual comfort on a cloud sofa of her own creation, her Kumo Kumo no Mi (Cloud-Cloud Fruit) powers allowing her to maintain perfect positioning for both observation and attack. The temperature around her shimmered with electrical potential, storm clouds gathering at her command like obedient pets.
Her expression carried none of the cheerful greed or playful mischief that typically characterized the Straw Hat navigator. Instead, cold fury blazed in her eyes as she studied the broken figure sprawled in the rubble below.
"Camie was so naive," Nami said, her voice carrying across the devastated landscape with supernatural clarity. "How could she trust what humans told her? Especially scum like you people?"
She gestured almost casually, directing a focused lightning bolt toward the barely conscious form of Giolla. The artistic executive's body convulsed as electricity coursed through her nervous system, charred flesh crackling as the current found every nerve ending with surgical precision.
The old woman's scream echoed through the ruins, a sound of agony that spoke to prolonged, systematic torture rather than quick execution. This wasn't combat—it was methodical revenge being extracted with the patience of someone who had all the time in the world.
Abstract art, Nami thought with bitter irony as she observed Giolla's twitching form. Let's see how abstract your suffering can become.
The scene around them told a story of systematic elimination that went far beyond simple military objectives. Scattered throughout the rubble were the remains of what had once been vibrant individuals with their own dreams and fears.
Hachi, the takoyaki-loving octopus fishman whose gentle nature had made him beloved on Fish-Man Island, lay motionless among the debris. His kindness had been rewarded with death, his body subsequently repurposed in ways that mocked everything he had stood for during life.
Papagu, the starfish designer whose creativity had brought joy to countless people, had been reduced to a specimen in Giolla's twisted art collection. His fame and talent had meant nothing in the face of systematic cruelty.
But it was Camie's fate that had truly triggered Nami's current state of vengeful fury. The mermaid's innocent belief in the goodness of others had led her to trust Diamante, to sell herself into five years of slavery based on promises that were never intended to be kept.
She believed in hope, Nami thought with rage that made the storm clouds above her pulse with electrical discharge. She trusted them to honor their agreements, to show mercy to someone who had already lost everything. They used her faith against her until there was nothing left.
The systematic betrayal and abuse represented everything Nami hated most about the world—the strong preying on the innocent, using trust and hope as weapons to inflict maximum psychological damage before delivering the killing blow.
Giolla's legs had been severed from her body over ten minutes ago, the limbs lying in separate pools of blood while lightning periodically coursed through her remaining torso. The torture was precise, calculated to maintain consciousness while inflicting maximum suffering.
This is what happens to people who destroy hope, Nami thought with cold satisfaction. You wanted to turn people into art? Let's see how you enjoy becoming a masterpiece of agony.
Near the edge of the devastation, Bellamy watched the proceedings with eyes that burned with their own hunger for revenge. The former pirate captain, reduced to serving as a Celestial Dragon's riding slave, had survived the initial titan rampage through a combination of luck and his spring-powered mobility.
But survival had only prolonged his suffering. Five years of humiliation at the hands of the same organization he had once idolized had transformed him from an arrogant bully into something far more dangerous—a man with nothing left to lose and everything to avenge.
Doflamingo's family, he thought with savage anticipation as he watched Giolla's continued torment. These bastards who looked down on everyone, who sold people like livestock and called it business. They deserve everything that's happening to them.
His entire body coiled with tension, spring-loaded muscles ready to launch him forward the moment Nami grew bored with her electrical torture. He wanted to be the one to deliver the killing blow, to personally extract payment for years of degradation and abuse.
The Straw Hat Pirates saved my soul five years ago, Bellamy reflected with genuine gratitude. And now they're saving my body. If Luffy asked me to die for him right now, I'd do it without hesitation.
The transformation was complete. Where once an arrogant young pirate had sneered at dreams and idealism, now a hardened survivor understood the true value of people who fought to protect others rather than exploit them.
"I won't let you die easily," Bellamy whispered to Giolla's unconscious form, his voice carrying the promise of a predator who had learned patience through years of forced submission. "When the boss finishes with you, I'm going to take my time making you understand exactly what you put innocent people through."
In the subterranean battlefield where the final confrontation was unfolding, Trebol studied the severed head of Lao G with the dispassionate calculation of someone who had long since accepted violence as a normal part of existence. Without ceremony or sentiment, he raised his boot and crushed his former colleague's skull, grinding bone and brain matter into the bloody snow.
Giolla and Lao G are both eliminated, he assessed with tactical detachment. The young master will need to completely rebuild the executive structure if we don't end this here.
"Even if you manage to defeat us," Trebol declared with false confidence, "the young master and the other elite cadres will capture your entire crew in one coordinated sweep. You're fighting a war you can't possibly win."
The executive's words carried the hollow ring of someone trying to convince himself rather than intimidate his opponents. He lacked the god's-eye view that would have revealed the systematic elimination of Donquixote Family forces across multiple battlefields, the coordinated assault that was dismantling Doflamingo's power structure piece by piece.
When death approaches, people lose the ability to see their situation clearly, okama-Sanji observed with clinical interest. His enhanced combat instincts, honed through years of training in the Kamabakka Queendom, could sense the desperation underlying Trebol's bravado.
"Robin, I'll handle the mucus man," Sanji announced with the casual confidence of someone who had already evaluated and dismissed the threat level. "You focus on the snow monster behind you. I prefer fighting men to fighting women anyway—something about my chivalrous nature."
As he spoke, an ornate belt materialized in his hands, its surface covered with technological details that spoke to advanced Germa Kingdom engineering. The device was clearly more than decorative—sensors, energy conduits, and what appeared to be a miniature communication array were integrated into its sleek design.
"Under normal circumstances, I avoid using power derived from Vinsmoke bloodline technology," Sanji explained as he secured the belt around his waist. "But facing one of Doflamingo's four top executives demands a certain level of respect for the opposition."
A device that resembled a sophisticated mobile phone appeared in his other hand, its surface gleaming with the same technological sophistication as the belt. The connection between the two items was obvious—some form of transformation system that required both components to function.
Trebol's expression shifted from dismissive arrogance to genuine concern as he recognized the family name. "Vinsmoke... The Germa Kingdom. We've done considerable business with your father over the years—arms deals, cloning technology, various military contracts."
The implications were staggering. If this crossdressing warrior was connected to Judge's scientific empire, then his capabilities might extend far beyond simple martial arts or basic Devil Fruit powers.
"I heard your father is arranging a marriage alliance with Big Mom," Trebol continued, hoping to exploit potential family tensions. "The invitations have already been distributed across the New World. Quite the political coup for the Vinsmoke family."
"That stubborn old man can make whatever deals he wants," Sanji replied with dismissive finality. "I won't be attending any wedding, regardless of who the bride might be. My loyalty belongs to Luffy and the Straw Hat Pirates forever."
His fingers moved across the phone's surface with practiced efficiency, entering a specific sequence that would activate the transformation system. Three presses of the number 5 button, followed by the enter key—a code that spoke to both simplicity and symbolic significance.
The belt responded with electronic confirmation, advanced systems coming online as power flowed through previously dormant circuits.
"Transform!" Sanji shouted, raising the phone above his head before slamming it back into the belt's docking port with dramatic flair.
"COMPLETE!" the system announced as photon streams erupted from the belt's projectors, red energy flowing along predetermined channels to envelope Sanji's entire body in technological enhancement.
The armor that formed around him was a masterpiece of Germa Kingdom engineering, combining advanced materials science with aesthetic design principles that prioritized both function and intimidation. The suit's primary motif was unmistakably shark-inspired—streamlined surfaces that suggested incredible speed, textured plating that mimicked shark skin, and predatory design elements that spoke to the suit's combat orientation.
Dorsal fin-inspired projections crowned the helmet, while the facial mask incorporated shark-tooth patterns that transformed Sanji's human features into something far more menacing. Twin optical sensors provided enhanced vision while maintaining the predatory aesthetic that made the entire ensemble so psychologically effective.
"So Vinsmoke Judge's Raid Suit technology actually works," Trebol observed with growing unease, his tactical assessment shifting as he recognized the sophistication of the enhancement system. "That's truly enviable technological capability."
The executive's worldview was rapidly expanding as he realized how much he had underestimated not just his immediate opponents, but the broader scope of powers and technologies operating in the world beyond Dressrosa's borders.
It turns out that Vinsmoke Judge's artificial armor technology is not fake. It's really an enviable technological capability. Trebol stared at Sanji in his Kamen Rider costume. He underestimated the world.
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