The narrow corridor of the Phoenix Nest was nearly empty. Only the light sound of Robin's footsteps echoed, paced by the constant pain throbbing beneath her skin. Merlin's invisible chains still burned at her wrists and ankles, every movement reigniting the memory of the spell.
The air was cold, but the inner heat of the mark made everything oppressive. The soft light of the torches stretched long shadows along the walls, moving as if they followed her slow march.
A few meters ahead, leaning against the wall, Alvida remained motionless. Her body still held tension, and her fingers gripped the club as if it were the anchor keeping her steady.
Her gaze was not lost in the void, it followed Robin precisely, but without a single gesture. The memory of Merlin's magical pressure still weighed on her muscles.
Robin did not alter her path. She passed her rival with steady steps, the red glow of her eyes fixed forward.
The silence between them was dense, solid as stone. No challenge, no provocation—only a space heavy with what had not been said.
The sound of Robin's breathing mixed with the soft echo of her boots until she turned the corridor. The throbbing pain followed her, pulsing as a reminder.
Alvida stayed at the wall, unmoving. Her gaze tracked Robin until the silhouette disappeared around the bend. Only then did she look away, but she did not move.
The corridor returned to absolute silence.
___
Whole Cake Island
Big Mom's chamber was vast, suffocating, and sweet all at once. The heavy scent of sugar, butter, and caramelized fruit clung to the air, as if every breath carried warmth and density.
The gigantic bed, surrounded by heavy curtains, looked more like an improvised throne. Upon it, sitting with her legs folded, Big Mom held an enormous piece of cake, so large anyone else would have needed a plate and cutlery.
Not her.
With her hands, she tore off generous portions, crushing layers of cream, fluffy sponge, and colorful frosting between her fingers before shoving everything into her mouth.
SLURP!
Cream dripped from the corner of her lips, and she licked it clean, unconcerned with appearances. The sound of her chewing filled the room, accompanied by the dry crackle of old newspaper pages open at her side.
Her small, piercing eyes scanned the headlines, never lingering until they found what she sought.
The death of Marco.
Her expression barely shifted. A faint twitch of her eyebrow, perhaps less for the news itself and more for what came after.
"Riser Phenex..."
The name came muffled, tangled with chewing. She dropped the piece of cake for a moment and grabbed the paper more firmly, analyzing the photo and the lines of text.
Curiosity flared quickly. Not only because of his strength. But because of his potential.
'He would do well with one of my daughters... maybe two.'
A wide smile spread, not of affection, but of calculation.
She tossed the paper aside again, plunging her hand back into the cake as if the dessert itself conspired with her idea.
SPLAT!
Cream splattered across the table, her fingers, even the newspaper. She didn't care. She shoved the mess directly into her mouth, chewing with exaggerated satisfaction.
'Yes... an invitation to tea. Let's see if he dares refuse.'
The room filled with noisy chewing and sweet splashes. As she ate, Big Mom's mind already set the stage: a tea party that would not be just a social gathering, but a field of negotiation.
And as always, no one left a tea party with her unscathed.
___
Onigashima
The sky above Onigashima was heavy, dark clouds swirling like a constant shroud over the fortress. The wind carried the salty smell of the sea, mixed with the distant aroma of strong liquor and gunpowder.
In the main hall, Kaido sat upon his makeshift stone throne, his massive body relaxed, yet weighed by a silent burden. Before him, a subordinate trembled, clutching a newspaper with sweaty hands.
The deep voice boomed through the hall.
"Marco is dead..."
For a moment, Kaido's eyes narrowed, and the memory of Whitebeard flashed across his mind. The image of two old rivals, now reduced to memories, made his breath heavy.
But melancholy did not last long.
His jaw clenched tight, and his expression shifted into something wilder.
"Weaklings..."
The word reverberated against the walls. He pressed his hands on the arms of the throne and leaned forward.
"All of them... weaklings!"
The ground shook with the roar that followed.
ROOOOAAARRR!
The vibration ran through every stone, making the entire island quake. Barrels rolled, blades clattered, torches swung against the walls.
The subordinates instinctively retreated, like prey realizing the predator was about to strike. They knew any false move could draw his fury, intentional or not.
Silence returned only when Kaido reclined again, though his gaze still burned fiercely.
"This... Riser Phenex..."
He lifted his chin, staring into the void as if he could see the man through the fortress walls.
"Is he capable of killing me?"
The question was not meant for anyone in particular, but its weight fell on all present.
Then came the sound.
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
The laughter echoed like thunder, deep and growing, heavy with challenge and expectation. The walls vibrated with every note, as if Onigashima itself answered the laugh of its master.
The sea was calm, but the deck of the Red-Haired ship carried an invisible weight. The steady sound of waves against the hull seemed slower, as if the ocean itself respected the silence of the vessel.
Shanks stood near the bow, one hand resting on the railing, his gaze distant. The folded newspaper remained tucked under his arm, but the words he had read still echoed in his mind.
No comments, no orders. Only the wind playing with strands of red hair.
The ship sailed firmly toward an island shrouded in mist, its outline barely visible on the horizon. It was their next destination, far enough to vanish from known routes.
The captain had not explained his plans, but no one asked. The weight of the news was too clear to require answers.
For a moment, Shanks closed his eyes, and the image of a straw hat surfaced. The memory brought no smile, only a silent doubt.
'Luffy... where are you now?'
He did not know the boy no longer lived. The absence of that truth left the question drifting unanswered.
On deck, the crew kept the same silence. Some cleaned weapons, others adjusted ropes, but all shared the same unspoken thought.
At some point, they too would have to face Riser Phenex.
The man who defeated Whitebeard's commanders. The man who killed Whitebeard himself.
The breeze carried salt and the certainty that the encounter would come, sooner or later.
No one smiled that day.
___
Dressrosa
The throne hall of Dressrosa lay in shadow, the filtered light through heavy curtains falling across Doflamingo's face. The newspaper open in his hands bore headlines soaked in blood and chaos.
He tilted his head back, letting out a long, loud laugh.
The more chaos, the better. The more violence, the more room there was for business to flourish.
His crossed legs and wide smile gave the moment an almost carefree air, but the glint in his eyes said otherwise—calculation.
He snapped the paper shut, resting his elbow on the throne's armrest.
"This Riser... is interesting. Perhaps it's possible to do business with him."
Trebol, standing beside him, bent slightly, his sticky voice full of sycophancy.
"Young master, it would be an honor for Riser to do business with the Donquixote family."
The syrupy sound of the words made Doflamingo smile even wider, his chin lifting slightly.
The world was rearranging, and he knew exactly how to profit from it.
And if Riser was smart, he would know too.
Support here: patreon.com/22Mirko22
Thank you so much for reading - see you in the next chapter!