"Ross-kun, Maybe I should accompany you to the tea party... Going alone, I don't think it's wise. You're walking straight into the jaws of a beast," Issho repeated calmly, his tone firm but tinged with concern. It wasn't the first time he'd voiced this offer, and it likely wouldn't be the last.
I sighed, shaking my head with a faint chuckle. "No, Issho-san, I've got this. I need you back home with my brother when the Elders arrive in Dressrosa. This timing is crucial."
He frowned, his blind eyes tilting in my direction as if to argue further, but I raised a hand to stop him. My decision was final.
Despite my lighthearted tone, I couldn't shake the gravity of the task ahead. I was walking alone into Big Mom's territory, a den of danger disguised as a tea party. Though I understood it was a trap—a stage set to test me or worse—I couldn't ignore the opportunity. Only by clashing with powerhouses like her would I be able to grow stronger.
Still, a sliver of frustration lingered beneath my confidence. My strength had surged after my recent clash with Redfield, especially my haki, yet my devil fruit refused to awaken.
No matter how hard I trained, how much I pushed, it remained dormant. I couldn't help but imagine Doffy's mocking grin when I returned, his usual smugness amplified at the fact he'd awakened his devil fruit years ago.
Was it me? Was my aptitude for the devil fruit lacking? Or was there something deeper—something about the nature of the fruit itself that I had yet to uncover?
I shook the intrusive thoughts away, unwilling to let them cloud my focus. There were too many moving pieces in this game to let self-doubt take root. Turning to the rest of my family waiting at the pier, I addressed Issho directly.
"Issho-san, have you already forgotten what little Shyarly divined? Robin needs to be there when the Elders arrive. If we don't make use of this opportunity, it'll be our failure, not theirs."
His expression softened, and I continued, "And let's not rule out the possibility of them trying something when they're here. They've had their eyes on the schematics for our railguns for a while now. We can't let our guard down, even for a moment."
Issho nodded slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line as if weighing my words. "Still, I don't like this plan, Ross-kun."
"I'm not going in alone," I assured him, flashing a grin. "Lucci will be there too."
I reached over and ruffled Lucci's hair, earning a silent but unmistakable glare. Anyone else trying such a thing would have likely found themselves in a world of pain, but Lucci let it slide, albeit begrudgingly.
"Fine," Issho relented. "I'll handle things back at Dressrosa. Just... don't take unnecessary risks."
"Would I ever?" I teased, but his knowing smirk told me he wasn't convinced.
The scene at the pier was a stark contrast to the calm of our conversation. While most of the crew were busy preparing the ships for departure, Dora, our resident giantess, had stationed herself squarely in the middle of the dock, blocking any chance of us setting sail.
"Ross-kun, what are we going to do about this?" Diamante gestured toward the sprawled form of Dora, who looked like a massive, stubborn cat unwilling to budge. Her sheer size and weight had cracked parts of the pier, and her dramatic tantrum wasn't helping matters.
"Dora!" I called out, exasperation clear in my voice.
"No!" she bellowed, her voice shaking nearby crates. "I'm not letting you go without me!"
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "And why, exactly, do you think you should come to the tea party?"
She sat up suddenly, her enormous form casting a shadow over the pier. "Because my brother will be there! Loki! I need to see him!"
The pier was alive with commotion, but it wasn't the usual hum of preparation or the excited murmurs of victory. No, it was the sound of Dora the giantess, sprawled out on the dock, her massive frame blocking the fleet from departing. Her sulking face rested against the planks, shaking the pier with each frustrated motion.
"I'm not moving until you take me!" she declared, her booming voice causing nearby crates to rattle precariously.
"Issho-san," I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, "this is your fault. Why did you tell her her brother Loki would be at the tea party?"
The blind swordsman feigned innocence, whistling a cheerful tune as if he wasn't the cause of the chaos. "Ah, my apologies, Ross-kun. It must have… slipped out."
"Slipped out?!" I shot him an incredulous look, but he merely smiled, unbothered by the havoc he had unleashed.
Meanwhile, Dora thumped her enormous fist against the dock, cracking the wood further. "Ross! Either take me with you, or I'll sink the ships! You know I can do it!"
"Why do I even bother..." I muttered, rubbing my temples.
Behind me, the rest of the family wasn't exactly helping. Diamante was trying his best to stifle laughter, while Smoker leaned against a post, smirking as he reached for a cigar. Robin and Reiju watched with amused curiosity, while Lucci, as stoic as ever, seemed mildly entertained as he fed insects to Hattori, his loyal pigeon.
"Dora," I began, forcing a calm tone, "you're acting like a child. You're older than me if we simply go by age, aren't you?"
Dora's massive eyes lit up as if I had handed her a weapon. Standing upright with astonishing speed for someone her size, she pointed an accusatory finger down at me. "Exactly! And as your elder, I demand that you take me with you!"
Issho couldn't suppress his chuckle, and I swore I saw Diamante duck behind some barrels to laugh without being noticed. Even Lucci, who was usually gruff and disinterested, snorted in amusement.
I slapped a hand over my face, groaning. "Fine! You can come, but only if you promise to follow my orders to the letter and don't cause trouble while we're there. We're walking into enemy territory, Dora."
Her face lit up with a victorious grin, and she clapped her hands together with enough force to send nearby seagulls fleeing in terror. "You won't regret this, Ross! I promise to be on my best behavior!"
Somehow, I doubted that.
As I turned back to address the rest of the family, Smoker decided to celebrate Dora's victory by pulling out a cigar. Before he could place it between his lips, Issho's cane-sword lashed out like a viper, delivering a swift smack to Smoker's backside.
"AAARGH!" Smoker howled, clutching his rear. "I wasn't going to light it! It was for show!"
Issho tilted his head toward Smoker, his blind eyes unerringly locking onto him. "Youngsters like you should set better examples, Smoker-kun. And let's not forget—young master has sharper observation haki than mine."
Smoker's eyes darted nervously to me, and I arched a brow, gazing at the cigar in his hand. Under my silent scrutiny, he began to sweat bullets. Muttering something about "this stupid family," he crumpled the cigar in his fist and tossed it into the snow.
"You'd better be glad it was Issho who caught you," I said dryly.
Grumbling, Smoker crossed his arms. "When I grow up, I'll spend my entire allowance on cigars, and none of you can stop me."
Robin chuckled softly, while Mansherry, perched on her palm, chimed in with a mischievous grin. "Ross! Me, me! I want to come too!"
Oh no. Not again. Mansherry and Dora were like a pair of scheming peas in a pod, each learning tantrum tricks from the other. But I wasn't falling for it this time.
Pretending I hadn't heard her, I turned away.
"Ross!" Mansherry whined, tugging on Lucci's shirt for backup. Lucci, however, had already anticipated this and deftly tapped her tiny head with his finger.
"I'll bring you back a souvenir," Lucci said flatly, his tone brokering no argument.
With Mansherry momentarily pacified and Dora now joining us, we moved toward the docked ships. Since our group had grown, we needed to switch to one of the giant vessels, capable of accommodating Dora's size.
As I climbed aboard, Issho called out behind me. "Ross-kun, don't forget: walking into the jaws of a beast is only wise if you're prepared to snap its teeth."
I smirked, not bothering to turn around. "That's exactly the plan, Issho-san."
Behind me, the family watched as our ship set sail toward Totto Land, with the ever-looming shadow of Big Mom's territory awaiting us. The chaos of departure was over, but somehow, I knew the real trouble was only just beginning. With Dora and Lucci at my side, this tea party was bound to be… eventful.
*****
Oykot Kingdom, East Blue
"Bang… Bang!" Gunshots echoed across the crumbling defense line, the crack of rifles mingling with the clash of steel and desperate cries. The kingdom of Oykot, once a beacon of prosperity, was now a smoldering warzone. Pirates rampaged through the streets, their bloodlust unchecked as they tore through what little resistance the civilians could muster.
No one knew for certain why these marauders had descended upon the kingdom. Rumors whispered of a betrayal—a failed deal between Oykot's monarchy and a coalition of pirate crews.
The truth hardly mattered now. The kingdom's rulers had already abandoned their people, their plan a cowardly one: use the Marines to hold the pirates at bay while they escaped with their wealth.
"Hold the line!" barked Captain Kenshin, his voice cutting through the chaos like a whip. His face was hardened from years of service, but even he couldn't hide the desperation in his eyes.
"Bellemere…! Get back into formation! Our orders are to extract the royalty and retreat!"
But Bellemere, a young marine barely out of her teens, wasn't listening. She was too busy pulling a group of civilians from the crossfire, her body a shield between them and the advancing pirates.
Her Marine-issued uniform was dirtied and torn, her long, auburn hair streaked with soot and sweat. The rifle slung across her back bounced as she ushered the terrified villagers toward the pier—the last semblance of safety in this hellscape.
"Keep moving!" she shouted, waving them forward with one hand while clutching a bleeding wound on her side with the other.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a pirate leaping from the rubble. His jagged axe gleamed in the smoky light as he bellowed, "Die, Marine bitch!"
The world seemed to slow as the pirate descended, his bloodshot eyes locked on her. But Bellemere's instincts, honed from weeks of fighting in this forsaken kingdom, kicked in. She shoved the nearest civilian out of the way, twisting her body just enough to avoid the blade.
Pain flared as the axe grazed her back, ripping through her uniform and leaving a deep, jagged wound. Blood sprayed across the cobblestones, but she didn't falter. Gritting her teeth against the searing pain, she rolled to the ground, grabbing her rifle in a single, fluid motion.
With a practiced hand, she aimed at the pirate's sneering face.
"Bang!"
The shot rang true. The pirate's head exploded like an overripe melon, spraying gore across the rubble. The civilians screamed in terror, but Bellemere was already moving, her focus unwavering. She ignored the burning in her back, the slick warmth of her own blood soaking her shirt. There was no time for pain, no room for weakness.
Above her, volleys of gunfire from her fellow Marines momentarily pinned down the advancing pirates. Yet, despite their best efforts, the enemy numbers were overwhelming. Dozens of pirates darted from cover to cover, using the rubble as shields as they closed in on Bellemere's position.
"Marine reinforcements my ass," Bellemere muttered under her breath, glancing toward the pier where their makeshift barricades were barely holding. "This whole thing's a damn joke."
But she didn't let the bitterness take hold. Not here. Not now.
"Move! Keep going!" she urged the civilians, her voice firm but strained.
A mother clutching her child stumbled, too terrified to move further. Bellemere knelt beside her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"You're going to make it," Bellemere said, her tone fierce. "Just a few more steps. The pier is right there!"
Before the woman could respond, a pirate broke through the Marine line, sprinting toward them with a wild grin and a cutlass raised high. Bellemere didn't hesitate. She pivoted, bringing her rifle up and firing in one fluid motion.
"Bang!"
The pirate crumpled, the shot tearing through his chest. She didn't wait to watch him fall. Another pirate was already charging, a pair of pistols in his hands.
"Bellemere, behind you!" one of her comrades shouted from the barricade.
She spun on her heel, narrowly dodging the first pistol shot. The second grazed her arm, but she barely registered the pain as she raised her rifle again.
"Not today," she growled, firing twice.
The pirate dropped to the ground, lifeless.
Her chest heaved as she caught her breath, sweat and blood dripping down her face. The civilians she'd been protecting had finally made it to the pier, where Marines were helping them over the barricades. Relief flickered in her chest, but it was short-lived.
A shadow loomed over her.
"Bellemere!" someone screamed.
She turned just in time to see a hulking brute of a pirate towering over her, a spiked mace in his hands. The weapon came down in a devastating arc, too fast for her to dodge completely. She threw herself to the side, the mace smashing into the ground inches from her legs, sending debris flying.
Pain radiated through her ribs where a chunk of stone had struck, but she ignored it, grabbing her rifle and rolling onto her back. The pirate raised his mace again, grinning cruelly.
With a burst of adrenaline, Bellemere aimed and pulled the trigger.
"Bang!"
The shot hit his shoulder, staggering him but not stopping him. Snarling, he lunged again. Bellemere scrambled backward, her hands fumbling for the knife strapped to her thigh.
Just as the mace swung toward her again, a volley of bullets tore through the pirate's chest. He froze, his grin fading as blood poured from his wounds.
"Get up, Bellemere!" Captain Kenshin shouted, his rifle smoking as he and a squad of Marines rushed to her aid.
Bellemere didn't need to be told twice. She grabbed her rifle and hauled herself to her feet, grimacing at the pain in her back.
The captain's eyes were sharp as they met hers. "You're reckless, Bellemere. But damn if you aren't brave."
"Brave doesn't mean much if we all die here," she shot back, a wry grin tugging at her lips.
"Then let's make sure we don't," he said, nodding toward the pier.
Together, they fell back toward the barricade, firing as they went. Bellemere's wounds throbbed with every step, but she didn't stop, her determination burning brighter than ever.
The kingdom of Oykot may have been doomed, but as long as she drew breath, Bellemere would fight. She wasn't just a Marine; she was a protector. And she would see this through to the bitter end.
"Go... go!" Bellemere shouted, her voice hoarse with desperation, her hands shaking as she pointed the civilians toward the last remaining escape route. "Find a ship and leave this cursed kingdom—don't look back!"
The ragged group of civilians, some with faces etched in terror, stumbled forward. Their movements were frantic, but Bellemere's words seemed to give them the courage to move, to break free from the hell they'd been caught in. The only thing that mattered now was their survival, even if it meant abandoning everything else.
As they rushed toward the pier, Bellemere turned her attention back to the barricade. The Marines, though weary and battered, were still holding strong against the relentless tide of pirates. But the situation was worsening.
Each shot fired felt like a prayer for survival, and every explosion that rang out only deepened the despair of their situation. The pirates were numerous, bloodthirsty, and seemingly endless.
Her trembling hands fumbled as she reached for the open crate of supplies that lay nearby. Empty casings clattered against each other as she grabbed handfuls of bullets, cursing under her breath at the fool who had dumped the empty shells with the live rounds. They had no time to waste—every bullet counted, and they couldn't afford to throw away a single casing.
She shoved the magazine into her rifle and began loading it, every second feeling like an eternity. The weight of the battle, of the world itself, seemed to settle on her shoulders. Reinforcements had never arrived.
The Kingdom's royalty had already fled, and the Marines were stuck, left to die in the streets like dogs. The supplies they had managed to scrape together from the kingdom's warehouse—gunpowder, spare casings, anything they could find—had kept them alive for this long. But it was running out. The walls of defense were crumbling.
And then, without warning, a deafening volley of gunfire shattered the air. It wasn't from the pirates charging toward the barricade, but from behind her. From the direction of the pier.
Her blood went cold.
The world seemed to freeze as the realization struck her like a hammer to the chest. She turned instinctively, her breath catching in her throat, the rifle still gripped tightly in her hands. Her eyes scanned the scene ahead, and what she saw made her heart stop.
The people—the very people she had just rescued—were lying on the ground, blood splattered across the cold, hard stones. Their bodies lay twisted in unnatural positions, lifeless and broken. The cause of death? The Marines.
Her own comrades had turned their weapons on the innocent civilians.
"W-What...?" Bellemere's voice was barely a whisper, the words strangled by shock and disbelief. The bitter taste of betrayal burned her throat. She blinked, trying to make sense of it, but there was no mistake.
Marines—her brothers and sisters in arms—stood around the lifeless bodies, their rifles lowered, faces cold and indifferent. The civilians—the very people she had just promised to protect—were slaughtered like cattle.
Her mind raced, trying to piece together the horrifying truth. The piercing gunfire echoed in her ears, deafening her thoughts. The Marines... her comrades... were complicit in this massacre. They weren't here to protect anyone—they were here to silence those who dared to escape the kingdom.
"Dammit...!" Her grip tightened on her rifle as a surge of rage flooded her veins.
The sudden weight of the situation crushed down on her like an anchor, and her legs trembled with the force of the emotional blow. She had fought to protect these civilians—sacrificed herself—and this was her reward? Her entire life as a Marine had been a lie. The people she swore to protect weren't just abandoned—they were actively murdered by those she had trusted.
A cold, bitter laugh bubbled up from her chest, but there was no humor in it—only despair and fury. The smoke of battle choked the air, but in the midst of it, Bellemere could see clearly now.
The kingdom had fallen, not to pirates or invaders, but from within. Corruption had wormed its way into the heart of the Marines, and she had been too blind to see it.
She could hear footsteps behind her, the familiar boots of more Marines approaching. There was no question now—they knew what she had seen. The weight of their betrayal was suffocating, and she could already feel the eyes of her comrades on her, filled with silent judgment. Her hands clenched the rifle with white knuckles, her heart thundering in her chest.
"Turn your weapons on the pirates, not the innocents!" she shouted, her voice raw with anger and defiance. But the words fell on deaf ears.
One of the Marines who had just slaughtered the civilians turned toward her, his face devoid of remorse, his rifle still slung over his shoulder.
"You should have known better than to get attached to the weak, Bellemere. This is the way things work. Orders are orders." His voice was casual, as if they were discussing a simple strategy, not the cold-blooded execution of men, women, and children who had done nothing wrong.
Bellemere's blood boiled at the words. Orders were orders? Was that what they had become? Executioners to their own people?
"Orders?!" Bellemere roared, her voice filled with venom. "You're no better than the pirates!
You're worse!" She stormed toward him, ignoring the sharp pain in her side, ignoring everything but the need for justice.
The Marine Captain drew his weapon, but Bellemere was quicker. With a flick of her wrist, she aimed her rifle at him, her finger squeezing the trigger with precision.
"Bang!" The bullet struck him in the shoulder, knocking him back. He stumbled, but he didn't fall.
The tension in the air was suffocating as the Marines, torn between duty and morality, stood frozen in the chaos. Bellemere knelt on the bloodstained earth, trembling with exhaustion and grief, her eyes locked on the lifeless bodies of the civilians she had fought so hard to save.
Her rifle was still warm in her hands, her knuckles white from gripping it too tightly. The accusations hurled at her by her fellow Marine rang hollow in her ears, drowned out by the deafening roar of her own heartbeat.
"This little bitch dared to attack her superior!" the injured Marine bellowed, blood seeping through his uniform as he clutched his shoulder. His face was a mask of rage and humiliation. "She needs to be executed on the spot!"
The surrounding Marines tightened their formation around Bellemere, their weapons raised, ready to cut her down. But before they could move, a commanding voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
"What the hell is going on here?"
Captain Kenshin's voice rumbled like thunder as he approached, flanked by a handful of battle-weary Marines who had held the defensive line against the pirates. His steel-gray eyes scanned the scene, quickly piecing together the grim reality without a single word of explanation.
His gaze flicked toward the pier, where the Commodore, flanked by members of Oykot's royal family, stood laughing aboard one of the loaded ships.
Their hands gestured excitedly over gilded crates of wealth that sparkled even under the shadow of the retreating sun. The priority had never been the people, Kenshin realized with a bitter taste in his mouth—it was the wealth.
His eyes narrowed, fury simmering just beneath the surface. "The hell are you pointing your weapons at a fellow Marine?" Kenshin barked, his voice cutting through the chaos like a whip.
The Marines surrounding Bellemere hesitated, their grip on their rifles faltering as they stepped back. Even in the murky chain of command, a Captain's authority still held weight. But the injured officer wasn't so easily cowed.
"She shot me, Captain! I'm her superior officer, and she attacked me. That's treason—grounds for execution!" he snarled, gesturing angrily toward the still-smoking wound on his shoulder.
Bellemere lifted her tear-streaked face to Kenshin, her voice barely a whisper, raw and broken.
"Sir… they shot them… all the people I managed to save. In cold blood." Her trembling hand gestured toward the pile of lifeless bodies that lay crumpled near the pier, their blood pooling into the cracks of the cobblestones.
Kenshin's jaw tightened, his teeth grinding together as his gaze swept over the corpses. He didn't need an explanation to understand what had happened—the hollowed eyes of the Marines around him told the story well enough.
"It was orders from the Commodore, Captain," one of the Marines finally spoke, his tone unnervingly casual. "The civilians could have been pirates. Or rebels. We couldn't take any chances. The safety of the monarchy is paramount."
The Marine's words were a dagger to Kenshin's chest. The sheer apathy made his stomach churn, but he knew better than to lash out. His rank might hold sway here, but the Commodore's authority would always trump his own. Challenging this now wouldn't change anything.
Kenshin turned his attention back to Bellemere, reaching out to steady her. "Bellemere..." he began, his voice softer now, as though trying to reach the broken young woman in front of him.
But the vacant, shattered look in Bellemere's eyes told him everything he needed to know. He had lost her.
"Sir!" Another Marine jogged up, saluting sharply. "All royals have boarded safely, and the Commodore has ordered a full retreat. The ships are ready to sail."
The order struck like a hammer blow. Kenshin's fists clenched at his sides. A month of hell—fighting tooth and nail to hold the line against the pirate horde—only for this? To ferry the wealth of a corrupt kingdom while abandoning its people to slaughter? It was a cruel farce, one he had no power to change.
But Bellemere's reaction was immediate. Her body tensed as the words registered, the rage boiling in her veins spilling over in a fiery torrent. The retreat order wasn't just a betrayal—it was the final straw.
"You bastards..." she hissed, her voice trembling with fury. Her hands clenched her rifle so tightly her knuckles turned white. "You could've saved them. We could've saved thousands. But all you cared about was gold."
Kenshin stepped forward, his hand raised to stop her, but it was too late.
"Bellemere, wait—!"
With a scream of defiance, Bellemere snatched up the rifle and loaded the magazine she'd prepared earlier. She turned her back on the Marines and sprinted toward the heart of the kingdom, toward the chaos of the battlefield where the pirates still rampaged unchecked.
"To hell with the Marines!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the night like a war cry. "To hell with the World Government! I'm not letting anyone else die while you bastards retreat!"
The Marines stared in stunned silence as Bellemere disappeared into the smoke and ruins of Oykot. Kenshin's hand fell to his side, his expression heavy with guilt and resignation.
"Let her go," he finally said, his voice hollow. "She's made her choice."
As Bellemere charged headlong into the chaos, her heart burned with a singular purpose. She was no longer a Marine, no longer bound by the chains of bureaucracy and corruption. She was just a soldier—a soldier who refused to turn her back on the innocent.