The press of masked bodies, blocking ways, closed in like tides that would not break, the festival that was meant to dazzle but for him it was suffocating. For Luffy, every voice and laugh seemed to be a mocking echo of his own mistake.
Luffy's jaw ached with how hard he clenched it, his chest tight with an anger that burned inward instead of spilling out. He had trusted them–partially. He had trusted the P.P.P. even when he knew he shouldn't have, even when the winds had been against them, even when the hairs on his neck had risen at their oily and greedy smiles.
He had known. He had known and still he had done nothing, because some small, foolish piece of him had wanted to believe men like them would play fair. He had wanted to believe that his crew's wish and desire to get Merry fixed wasn't impossible and with the technology of P.P.P. it might be possible.
But now, Zoro was down because of him. And Merry was left all alone because of him.
The thought hollowed his stomach. It sent an arrow through his heart. He could feel her–Merry–her voice, crying and begging, the shivers through the air as she wanted him to be there. He could feel that she was scared. For her planks were creaking under the feet that did not belong there, the greedy fingers that were prying into every corner of her, searching for valuables.
And Zoro, even though poisoned, was trying to rise even as his body betrayed him, but the edge of his spirit was straining like a blade against its sheath. He could feel his own disappointment and anger for falling. Luffy's heart lurched at it, every beat of his heart ached with guilt.
Above the festival lanterns, the sky was beginning to churn. Clouds, thick and leaden, gathered though no storm had been promised. The air was shifting restlessly, as sharp winds threaded the alleys and tugged at the masks of the revelers as though trying to reach him, follow him, and get their own justice.
He had taken Halad's mantle. He had sworn to protect his domains and never let him down. But what had he done with it? He let himself falter, let himself forget to listen. How could he ever make Halad proud if he could not even listen to the breaths of the winds that begged him to understand?
Luffy's throat felt raw even though he had said nothing aloud. He shoved through shoulders, through painted faces and colourful masks. He could feel his own crew weaving through the crowd, trying their best to follow him. But every step he took was too slow, too far. Zoro needed him. Merry needed him. He didn't care about the money. It meant nothing to him, not if it cost them this.
The sudden crowd felt as if it was swallowing him, pressing close, laughing and unseeing. He snarled low in his chest at the freaking crowd blocking his way and making it difficult to reach them. But then, he drew his arm back and let instinct take over. His hand snapped to a nearby beam, then his body flung skyward in a whipcrack of muscle and rubber. Soon he was soaring above the lanterns, above the people, his breath bursting free as the wind rushed to meet him. It seemed to hold him, urging him forward, continuing his momentum.
His sandals slapped against the tiles of a rooftop, and then he was running, faster, his eyes locked on the path that would take him back to his first mate, back to his home, to Zoro and Merry.
The air thickened around him. The city, a blur beneath his feet. Merry's cries pressed at the back of his skull, her wood protesting under hands that had no right to touch her ever, and beneath it all Zoro's spirit flaring stubbornly against the poison trying to drown it.
Luffy's breath came ragged, not from strain but from the fire rising in him, hotter with every step. He could reach them, he had to! And when he did, the 3Ps would learn what it meant to lay a hand on his nakama, to poison his first mate, to defile his ship. Nothing would protect them then, neither the festival mask nor the crowd.
.
"What the hell's gotten into him?!" Sanji snapped, weaving past a drunk already shouting to the beats of a drum. "He bolts like someone stole all of his food!"
Nami's brows were furrowed as she tried to keep pace, her hand tight around the strap of her satchel. "Something's wrong. He wouldn't run like that–" she caught herself, her eyes flicking skyward. The color drained from her face as she recognized the familiarity of the situation. "–it's serious!"
Above them, the clear blue sky was already churning into gray. Thick clouds were gathering fast, pulling together as though dragged by invisible hands to hover above the whole island. The winds even had teeth now, their sharp gusts biting at the festival lanterns until they shuddered and bobbed ominously.
"Zoro," Robin said quietly, calm even as she kept Chopper pressed close against her side. "This has to do with him. Where else would he be running?"
Sanji gritted his teeth as smoke curled from the corner of his mouth. "Figures. The mosshead can't keep himself outta trouble even when he's probably asleep." Even as though Sanji said the words, his voice lacked real heat. And beneath the words something tauter, a thread of worry as he desperately tried to locate Luffy and confirm the direction he was taking.
Usopp stumbled on a cobblestone and righted himself, but his eyes darted upward as a result. That was when he spotted the familiar blur of red. "Wait! Wait! There, look!" he pointed with a shaky hand.
Between the wavering lantern light and the forest of masks, they caught the sight of a figure snapping forward like a slingshot, his rubber limbs arching before landing high on the tiled roofs.
"There's Luffy!" Usopp panted. "He's heading that way. Straight for–" his face drained color. "–the 3P's shipyard."
Robin's eyes narrowed, her tone leaving no room for doubt. "Then Zoro truly is in danger."
Nami pressed a hand to her temple, the ache of pressure building behind her eyes. "The sky… it's darkening too fast. Storm clouds don't form like this. They are not natural. And, I think, we all know why.." she let herself trail, knowing that the others understood anyway. They had seen it before, countless times till now–Luffy's mood, his anger specifically, shaping the clouds and winds.
"Luffy knows something," Sanji muttered, exhaling hard. "And whatever it is, he's worried sick." His gaze flicked to Robin, then Nami, then the rest, before going for Luffy again. "We can't waste time down here. The crowd's too thick." He said, already peeling off into a narrow alley. "Meet you guys at the rooftops." His shoes splashed through the runoff as the air funneled sharp and fast. He leapt, pushed off one wall, then the other, climbing in quicksilver bursts until he vaulted onto the roof.
Right after Sanji reached the rooftop, Chopper shifted instantly, his body elongating and his legs swelling. "Jumping Point!" He bounded, his hooves cracking against the stone, and landed beside Sanji with a wobble and determined grin.
Sanji smirked despite himself, steadying him with one hand. "Not bad, Chopper."
Meanwhile, below, Robin's hands crossed before her chest and petals of flesh unfurled behind her in a ripple, and an arm ladder blossomed against the wall of the nearest building. Then she inclined her head towards Nami and Usopp, who were searching for ways to climb up. "Go. Quickly," she ushered them.
Nami scrambled up first, gripping each summoned forearm, her hair whipping wild by the rising wind. "Thanks, Robin!"
"Don't thank me yet," Robin said softly as Usopp followed, wobbling and muttering about his knees even as he climbed. Then, with grace, Robin followed after, her own hands sprouting higher rungs until she drew herself smoothly onto the roof. She rose to her feet beside the others, her cloak tugged by the gale, and her eyes already set on the direction Luffy had vanished.
Soon, together they took off at a sprint across the tiles, the slap of their footsteps muffled under the rising howl of wind. They ran through the rooftops, jumping from one to the other. There were fumbles–Usopp nearly falling down to the canals, Nami slipping at one moment, Chopper faltering in his steps–but Robin and Sanji were there to correct them. They were there for each other and now would be soon there for Luffy, Zoro and Merry.
"There!" Usopp pointed. "I can still see him! He's just about six rooftops ahead!"
"Then let's not lose him," Nami shouted back, her voice carried by the gale.
.
Far from the main city of the Water 7, where the festival's reach could not pierce, or the chatter of the crowd could not intrude, there lay an abandoned area of silence. It was a forgotten corner of the city, a recess between warehouses and walls that led to a stray patch that leaned away from everything. The air there was damp, heavy with just the ground and little shrubs growing.
A shadow moved through the narrow way to the patch, their claws striking stone in uneven rhythm. The shape that emerged into the hidden clearing was half man, half beast, like a werewolf. It was Jabra, his form caught in the flux between man and wolf, one of the CP9 agents. His shoulders were hunched, his jaws stretched forward, and canines glinting when he exhaled a growl. He loped into the low doorway, shaking his head once as though to rid himself of the stench of the festival cheer that still clung just outside the area.
Inside, the hideout was dim, lit only by a single hanging lamp whose flame sputtered in the stale air. Jabra's boots struck wood as he crossed to the center, muttering under his breath. "Tch. No one else here yet?" His tone was more complaint than question, his wolf ears twitching towards the silence that answered him.
Then the wood-paneled wall shivered. A seam appeared where there had been none, and with a groan, a door opened where no door should exist. From it stepped Blueno, his expression as impassive as ever, followed in measured stride by three others.
Rob Lucci with his pigeon Hattori entered first, his presence settling the air heavier still. Kalifa was at his side, calm, sharp, eyes already cataloguing every detail of the room. Behind them came Kaku, his long nose and easy smile ill-matched to the steel in his gaze. Blueno was last, closing the impossible doorway behind him with a quiet finality.
"About time you guys came," Jabra barked, his teeth bared in a grin that was half sneer. His claws drummed the tabletop as though to underline his impatience.
The CP9 agents took their seats without answering him, the scrape of chairs against wood loud in the hush shack. Lucci sat at the head of the rectangular table, as if he was a predator enthroned without ceremony. Kalifa slid into the chair at his left, adjusting her glasses with one practised hand while holding a file in her other hand. Kaku lowered himself to the right, his long limbs folding neatly. Jabra himself dropped opposite to Lucci, leaning back with restless energy, the wolf now under his skin.
Blueno did not join them. Instead, he remained by the door, broad shouldered and still, a sentinel who had no need of words.
The table was set and the meeting had begun.
Kalifa adjusted her glasses with a glint of lamplight across the lens, her tone measured and businesslike. "Our watchers report the Strawhats have already been made fools of. The so-called Pirate Hunter was seen struck down by poison by the 3P's and the money stolen right under his nose. The others were herded into the Masked Festival before that. Some other agents also reported–" her eyes flicked sharply as she adjusted her glasses, "–that they are moving in a formation now. Their archaeologist is always placed at the center. They are guarding her."
Kaku leaned forward on one elbow, his usual easy grin undercut by the steel in his words. "Which means tonight is opportune. The 3P's will be busy, the Strawhats out of the way, and Iceberg will be distracted by the festivities, and we'll be free to extract the location of the plans."
The words had scarcely left his mouth when a harsh, metallic trill broke through the room. It was coming from the Den Den Mushi at Lucci's side which was now rattling impatiently. Its face already contorting into the sneer of its caller Spandam, whose voice burst out in a grating shout.
"What's taking you useless dogs so long? Where are the blueprints? Bring them to me at once!"
Lucci lifted the receiver with the same composure as if he were drawing breath. "Circumstances have shifted. There is… a complication."
"What?! Who the hell is that?"
"The Strawhat crew," Lucci answered impassively.
On the other end, Spandam's voice cracked high. "The Strawhats?! They are here?! Don't tell me that the bitch Nico robin is with them?"
"She is," Lucci replied without a pause. "And the Strawhats are protecting her. Their captain especially. Strawhat Luffy, who is known to have dealings with the notorious and reckless 3C's."
"Don't joke with me! He is just a fucking kid in his pre-teens! How the hell can he have connections so high and mighty?!"
"The 3C's let Strawhat Luffy leave after him getting kidnapped by them. They were seemingly reported in the G-8 Marine Base along with the Strawhat Pirates," Kalifa reported. "The 3C's are not known to leave any pirate they encounter in one piece but they did with the Strawhats twice."
Spandam on the other line was quiet, letting himself soak in the information. If he has the blueprints, Nico Robin and this kid who has connections with the 3C's, he knew for sure that he would be able to rule the world with it.
"But they are not the smartest bunch. They have already allowed themself to be swindled for four hundred and fifty million belli." Lucci continued when Spandam didn't say a word.
For a moment there was silence but for the faint squeak of the snail's eyes swiveling. Then Spandam barked a laugh, ugly and shrill like his face. "Hah! Four hundred and fifty million? Stolen from under their noses? Idiots! Complete idiots!" His tone shifted quickly though. "Forget the blueprints. We don't even know if they're authentic for now. They can wait. What matters is the now. Nico Robin. 450 million. And.."
There was a pause, before his scoff rasped through the shell. "The kid. Strawhat Luffy. Two hundred million, hah? Overrated. Even dogs can bring the kid to me in an hour. But still, bring all of them to the base by tomorrow morning. Do not fail me."
The line went dead with a sharp clack before any of them could reply to the insults or say that they had witnessed Strawhat being a kid but not being it at the same time.
Lucci set the receiver back into its cradle with careful precision, expression unreadable. "You heard him," he said, his voice carrying like stone dragged across stone. "The blueprints can wait. Our orders are clear."
.
Merch had not expected the world to still be spinning hours after the competition. The docks tilted and rolled like he was standing pitched and swayed beneath him like the deck of a ship, and he staggered with a mug still clutched in one hand, empty, save for the heavy lingering scent of the ale. His cheeks were blotched crimson, his face flushed and eyes glassy.
He stepped wobbly ahead, before tumbling on his steps and noticing Zoro, flat on his back, his arms splayed, and swords scattered. The Pirate Hunter, the demon of the East Blue, the nightmare of the bounty heads… out cold.
Merch's lips twitched. A snicker bubbled up, turned into a squeak, then erupted in a high, girlish giggle. "Pfft–heheheh, look at you, you big scary pirate hunter! Can't even sit up! Who's the dumbass now, eh? Heheheh–" He clapped a hand over his mouth but that only made it worse. Soon he was doubling over, hiccupping between peals of ridiculous laughter.
He pointed the mug at Zoro accusingly, wagging it like a finger. "You–you're supposed to be the dangerous one! But you… you're just a rug! A rug with green hair! Hah!" He snorted, before peering down at the swords scattered beside Zoro like fallen chopsticks.
"Hehehe, look at this! Three swords! Who even fights like that?!" He bent down, snatching up two sticks of driftwood from the dock and sticking one clumsily in his mouth, the other two flailing in his hands. "I'm Zoro! Look at me, I can't even drink like a normal person! Slurrrp!" He swung, nearly braining himself with the sticks before collapsing backward in a wheezing fit of laughter.
He then blinked and sniffled, the laughter warping into tears. "But then–hic–you made me drink all that too, you bastard! I can't even feel my eyes! And.. and now I'll never get a promotion!" he hiccupped, a messy mix of rage and misery.
"You–sob–you ruined–sob–me!" He thumped his empty mug and began to bop it against his head. "Guilty of ruining me!" Bop. "Guilty of being green!" Bop bop. "Guilty of being.. Dumb!"
The tears in his eyes blurred everything, but the laughter caught in his throat as he felt the air shift, pressing cold and heavy over him. He could feel gooseflesh prickle up his arms. Slowly, wobbling, he turned his head, only to meet a fist, whose single blow sent him cartwheeling into the shadows, unconscious before he hit the ground.
.
The fist that had flown had met Merch's drunken parody, making his body tumble like a ragdoll into the shadows, unconscious before the sound of his flight had even faded away. The air hung still for a breath, breaking only the creak of the Merry's planks and the faint rattle of the festival in the distance.
Luffy lowered his arm slowly, the tension in his shoulders not loosening. His eyes, still tinged with that uncanny red glow, shifting from the unconscious merchant to his first mate's figure sprawled on the dock. Zoro's chest was rising and falling in a shallow rhythm, his swords scattered around him like fallen guardians.
Luffy took a wobbly step towards his first mate, towards Zoro, already feeling Merry hugging him from behind. He crouched, one hand patting Merry softly and assuring her that she did good, and the other hand carefully catching the fabric of Zoro's shirt just below the collar, and then, like a child hauling a stubborn cat, he lifted Zoro with a stretchy jerk. Zoro's body sagged upright, his head lolling until gravity forced it straight.
"Wake up," Luffy murmured softly, his words unknowingly carrying weight more like a command than a request.
Zoro's eyes snapped open, wide and unfocused at first, like a man yanked from the depths of a nightmare. For an instant his hands twitched, reaching instinctively for a sword that wasn't in his haramaki. Then his gaze locked on Luffy's red crimson eyes. And what he saw there, startled him more than the rough awakening.
Concern. Worry. Slight fear. Raw, unmasked and glaringingly obvious, even though mischief tried to curl at the corners of his captain's eyes and mouth. But still, Zoro could see those red, storm lit eyes, holding no jest, only the intensity of someone who had almost lost too much.
Zoro blinked hard, shaking his head. He had felt his head pounding, screaming and trying to rip itself apart. He had felt the poison in his veins, making him slack. He had tasted it like ash in the back of his throat. His skull pounding, limbs unsteady and unresponsive. And yet, now… the throbbing was gone. The sick heat had vanished, leaving only the familiar fuzz of too much alcohol.
"Luffy.." he muttered, his voice low, testing his own steadiness.
Luffy grinned then, soft and boyish, though the worry didn't leave his gaze. "You dozed off, huh? Mid competition. Not very swordsman-y, huh?"
Zoro scowled, the faintest flush creeping across his cheeks. "Tch. Shut it."
"And…" Luffy tilted his head, grin turning sly, "…they stole the money."
The words hit harder than a blade. Zoro's fog cleared in an instant, his memory returning full force, his sobriety crashing through him like cold water. His jaw tightened, eyes snapping wide. "What?"
But before he could demand more, the pounding of footsteps reached them.
The rest of the crew spilled into the dockside clearing, panting, faces red from exertion, almost as if they had run a marathon. Nami was the first to find her voice, though it came out sharp enough to cut.
"LUFFY!" she shrieked, planting her fists on her hips. "What in the world was that?! You run off without a word, vanish into the crowd, and we're all tearing ourselves apart trying to find you! Do you have any idea how worried we were?!" Her voice cracked like thunder, echoed by the storm still rumbling in the distance.
Luffy scratched the back of his head, his grin faltering into something sheepish. "Oops. I… I forgot."
"You forgot?!"
"Hey, at least everyone's here now!" He gave them a toothy smile, like that would fix everything.
It didn't.
Sanji dragged on his cigarette with a growl, but not before seeing the awkward position of Luffy and Zoro. Usopp bent double, wheezing and glaring daggers between breaths. Robin only arched a brow, her expression unreadable, though the faintest hint of amusement ghosted her lips at her captain's audacity.
But the protests died before it could start, because Luffy's next words struck hard. "Zoro was poisoned. And the money's gone."
"What?!" Nami's and Chopper's voices cried in unison, while the other Strawhats' eyes widened. Some looked at Zoro, noticing his slightly pale and flushed face, while the others realised that they were seemingly alone in the shipyard… unless the unconscious bodies littered everywhere counted anything.
Nami's screech nearly rattled the dock's nails loose. "The money?! Four hundred and fifteen million belli?! Gone?! Zoro!" Her fury swung instantly to the swordsman, who grimaced under the weight of her glare. "Do you realize what you've done?! Every single berri we don't get back is going to your debt! Every. Single. One!"
Before Zoro could protest or say how witchy and bitchy Nami was being right now, Chopper had already scrambled forward, tears welling in his eyes as his hooves pressed frantically against Zoro's chest, his face twisted with panic. "You were poisoned?! Why didn't you tell us?! What if it spread throughout your body?! What if it was fatal?! You could've—"
"Chopper—" Zoro began, but the little doctor was already rummaging furiously through his medical bag. He pressed a stethoscope to Zoro's chest, checked his eyes, even tugged at his tongue before pulling back with a breathless sigh.
"It's… it's gone, or at least not acting up anymore." Chopper whispered, relief flooding his features. "There's barely any trace left. Your body fought it off somehow. But just in case–" He shoved a small vial into Zoro's hand with trembling determination. "Take this! It'll flush anything that's left."
Zoro muttered a thanks under his breath, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips despite himself.
The crew's noise slowly ebbed as the immediate panic gave way to grim realization. Nami still fumed, Chopper still hovered, but beneath it all was the same bitter truth: they had been played. They had ignored their captain's unease, chosen to trust smiles that should never have been trusted.
"We should've listened to you. I should have listened to you. Shouldn't have been that adamant and a jerk," Usopp muttered, voice tinged with shame. He avoided Luffy's gaze, eyes fixed instead on the dock. "You said it felt wrong. And it was."
No one contradicted him. Even Nami's fire dimmed, her anger cooling into a sigh as she looked at Luffy.
Robin was the one to finally break the silence. Her voice was soft, yet it carried weight. "So… what now?"
For a moment, the only sound was the restless moan of the wind, tugging at their clothes, howling through the ropes of the Merry as if urging them on.
Luffy turned his head, gaze sharp on the darkening sky. The storm gathered still above, alive with a purpose only he seemed to hear. His lips curved, not into a grin this time, but into something fiercer, steadier.
"We hunt them down," he said simply. His voice carried no doubt, only resolve. "I know where to go."
The crew traded glances, silent questions sparking between them, but in the end, they shrugged, one by one. Luffy worked in mysterious ways, ways unknown to humans. Moreover, the winds listened to him, the sky bent for him. For the god he was and is. And if he said he knew, then he did.
"Fine," Sanji exhaled, flicking away his cigarette. "Lead the way, Captain."
"Just make sure we get that money back," Nami growled, though her shoulders eased a fraction.
"Let's hurry," Chopper said, ears flat with worry. "If those guys used poison once, who knows what else they've got."
Robin only smiled faintly, her eyes following Luffy with quiet curiosity.
The boy tilted his head back, eyes narrowing as the gale shifted, whispering to him through the clouds. Then, without another word, he set off, barefoot steps slapping against the tiles of the dock.
And one by one, they followed. Toward the other side of the island. Toward the storm.
.
Nothing was going well. Nothing has been going accordingly. Everything was soon turning into a big shitty piece of not awesome and not super. And yet, Franky could only rub a hand down his face, the metal of his forearm clinking softly against his chin. Time was running out, flying away. There wasn't much left even though the family had done their part, smashed their way through Iceberg's orders, carried out the jobs they were meant to do, even picked up the ones they would never usually do… And yet the walls were closing in and they didn't have the money. Too many things that had gone wrong.
And now the money–four hundred and fifty million belli–was not in his hands. It didn't just fall from the sky. Not in Water 7, even if it was an island in the Grand Line, where bizarre things ought to happen. But the Strawhats had it. He'd heard enough whispers, his family had even seen it. They were swimming in cash. And he needed it.
And even if the Strawhats didn't have it right now, the 3P's must have their sticky and sickly fingers on it already.
Franky spat to the side, his teeth gritting. He couldn't rely on the Franky Family for this, not this time. The men were loyal, but loyalty didn't fill coffers, and none of them could move quiet enough for a job this delicate. If he wanted that money, needed that money, and was willing to bet on that option, then it would have to be by his own hands.
He pushed to his feet, his blue hair catching the lamplight like fire. "If the money's already with the 3P's, then it's in their base," he uttered it verbally, looking ahead, his eyes at the direction of the base.
The thought, though, set his jaw tight, but there was no denying the truth. The P.P.P. were born scammers, and if the rumours said that the Strawhats had been sighted at their yard, then it didn't take a genius to piece together what came next.
A contract was binding his soul, tying his hands. But there was no clause against taking what hadn't yet been officially claimed by the P.P.P. And if the Strawhat's cash wasn't written in the 3P's ledgers yet, then as far as Franky was concerned, it was fair game.
He slammed his palms together, steel ringing against flesh. "We are moving out. Now, men."
From the shadows of the warehouse, a few of his closest men stirred, blinking at the sudden sharpness in his tone. He didn't wait for questions.
"Gather what you need. Bring out the big guns. The base ain't that far, and if we're quick, we'll beat 'em to it. The Strawhats, the 3P's, doesn't matter. That money's ours."
.
The alley narrowed until it ended in a blank stretch of steel wall, taller than any building nearby and far too smooth to be natural. Most who wandered this far turned back, muttering about dead ends. But the figure that strode toward it did not falter.
It was a knight in black, who was running while carrying three suitcases brimming with money in his gauntleted hands. He was wearing a smug smile on his face, while his iron boots rang against the stone, echoing hollowly between the walls.
He stopped before the seamless wall. For a moment, nothing moved but then a red beam cut through the gloom, sweeping over him in a slow arc from his head to heel.
"Authorization confirmed," the words were not spoken but reverberated from within the steel itself, a voice as cold as machinery.
With a hiss of shifting gears, a door that had not been there moments ago outlined itself, folding inward to reveal a sliver of light. The knight stepped inside with glee radiating from his face, and the door sealed behind him, leaving only blank metal once more.
Not long after, hurried footsteps slapped against the cobbles. The Strawhats burst into the alley, breath misting in the damp night. Luffy was first, his eyes locked on the steel barrier, jaw set. The others fanned out behind him, tired of running but unyielding.
Nami strode forward, fury burning hotter than her exhaustion. She planted her hands on her hips, tilting her chin up at the towering wall. "Open up!" she demanded, having seen the knight enter with her money. "Open the fuck up!"
For a moment, nothing happened. Then the same red beam cut across her figure, scanning every inch before vanishing.
"Authorization denied," the voice was flat, final, unyielding. The wall remained as still as the sea at low tide.
Nami clenched her fists, teeth grinding as the denial echoed. Her chest rose with the force of her breath, and then she let loose, words flying like knives.
"Stupid, rusted, worthless piece of junk! You think a pile of scrap and gears can stop us?! Damn it all, four hundred and fifty million belli, gone just like that! If you don't open this damn door, I swear I'll melt you down into earrings and sell you for pennies!"