Chapter 194: Neptune's Crushing Betrayal!
"Marco! King Neptune!"
Vista bellowed as he burst into the palace, waving a stack of photos like a trophy. Spotting the two men inside, he thrust the bundle forward with a grin. "Check this out—they actually snapped pictures! How could Queen Otohime stoop to this? Sure, that Celestial Dragon's easy on the eyes, but she's got no business falling head over heels."
Neptune's face darkened at Vista's words. He snatched the photos from the swordsman's hand, his massive fins twitching with fury.
Vista hadn't seen it coming and gripped tighter on instinct.
Rip!
The photos scattered like confetti across the marble floor.
Neptune clutched only a handful. Marco, ever the opportunist, snagged a few mid-air and held them up for a closer look. Gossip like this was too juicy to pass up—especially when it involved a king getting cuckolded by a notorious Celestial Dragon. Us sea dogs dealt with jealousy all the time; Marco and Vista had swapped war stories before. But Neptune? This was prime entertainment.
The king ignored everything else, his eyes locked on the images in his grip. One glance, and he froze.
The shot was distant, sneaky—taken on the day Ross and Otohime first met. From the angle, they sat by a shallow pool, her lounging back while he perched nearby. Their smiles synced perfectly, like old friends swapping tales.
Neptune's expression turned to stone. He'd known Otohime for years; he could read her like a current. This was her at her most unguarded, a side she rarely showed the world.
Never with him, though. Only in her solitary moments.
Grief hit him like a rogue wave. No faking these photos—Otohime's betrayal was ironclad.
Gritting his teeth, he flipped to the next.
There she was, heading to Ross's ship. Her condition had worsened, so he scooped her up bridal-style and Geppo'd toward the deck.
The low-angle shot hid her face, but Neptune pictured it: flushed cheeks, shy glances. His chest tightened. Betrayal stung the same, whether you were fish-man or human.
"Tch... now that's a slick move," Marco muttered, eyes wide.
The hall hung silent, amplifying his voice like a cannon shot. Neptune nearly choked on his rage. He lunged, yanking the photo from Marco's fingers, veins bulging.
He had to see how far Otohime had gone.
"Whoa!"
Neptune spat blood, the photo fluttering free as his colossal frame crashed to the floor. He blacked out cold.
Marco blinked, scooping up the fallen image. "Come on, it's not that wild. Kinda tame, even."
Nearby guards peeked over his shoulder and recoiled. Otohime in a skimpy swimsuit, lips pursed in mock annoyance, dangling a grape toward Ross on his lounge chair.
They'd never seen their princess like this—playful, intimate. She and Neptune barely held hands in public, let alone fed each other fruit.
If Neptune couldn't handle it, neither could they. Their queen had run off with some outsider.
"Go fetch a healer—now!" Marco snapped at the stunned guards, waving them off. He didn't buy their shock for a second; the rumors were already wildfire. What was one more spark? Pirates and fish-men alike knew the sting of lost love.
The guards bolted, relief flooding their faces. If Neptune woke up swinging, they'd be fish food. Better to spread the word and share the blame.
Word of the king's collapse raced through Fish-Man Island like a school of panicked tuna. Merfolk poured into the palace, jaws dropping at the photos littering the floor.
Some rushed to Neptune's side, tending his wounds. Others slipped out quietly, whispering the scandal far and wide. By nightfall, every nook of Fish-Man Island buzzed with the news.
---
Aboard the ship, the mood was worlds away.
"Even number—you lose again."
Ross smirked, uncurling his fist to reveal two fruits. He lounged back, utterly relaxed.
Otohime huffed, cheeks puffing out. "I swear I saw you grab three." She plucked a peeled lychee from the platter and sidled over, popping it into his mouth with a playful glare.
Ross savored it, eyes half-lidded in bliss. It hadn't started this bold. At first, the game was tame—no big wagers, group play only. Otohime had pushed back hard.
But one line from Ross shattered her walls: "Don't you want humans and merfolk to get along? If you're not willing to blend in and understand us, how can you ask your people to do the same for them?"
That hit home. She dove in, starting with juice swaps—first with Sora, then feeding Stella and the crew. Bit by bit, she loosened up.
Now? Losing meant feeding him directly. She'd blushed at first, but her dream of coexistence won out. Once broken, the barrier stayed down.
Ross had lost a round or two himself, feeding her in return. The spies had captured those too, shipping them straight to Fish-Man Island.
Otohime had no clue. Ross figured it'd make for one hell of a homecoming surprise—each reveal hitting harder than the last.
"Captain, we've hit Sabaody Archipelago," Moira reported, striding up.
Her eyes flicked to Otohime with a flicker of envy. These past days, she'd watched Ross toy with the princess, even pitching in herself. Otohime, though? She seemed right at home, leaning into it without a care.
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