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The holographic screen flickered to life in the darkness of Muyeon's chambers, casting an eerie blue glow across the stone walls.
[Snake Princess]: Help… someone please help me…
The words pulsed like a dying heartbeat.
Muyeon stilled, his brow furrowing.
Snake Princess?
The name meant nothing to him.
He rifled through his memories—every manhwa, every novel, every scrap of fiction he'd consumed in his past life. No "Snake Princess" stood out.
'Is this someone from a world I don't know?'
His gaze flicked to the chat log.
Querehsha hadn't responded either.
'What's she up to?'
Was the Plague Monarch ignoring the plea? No, she was waiting to see what he would do.
A slow smirk curled his lips.
'How delightful.'
His fingers danced across the holographic interface, typing out a reply with deliberate calm.
[Demon Heir (Admin)]: Welcome. What do you need? What's the situation?
The message hung in the air, unanswered.
Seconds stretched into minutes.
The silence gnawed at him, sharp as a blade between the ribs.
————
Moments earlier…
Hancock lay sprawled on the hard floor, her cheek pressed to cold stone. Blood—thick and warm—pooled beneath her face, its copper tang filling her nose and mouth. The holographic screen she had somehow summoned flickered weakly in her fading vision, its blue glow the only light in the suffocating darkness.
"Help… someone please help me…"
Her fingers twitched against the floor, nails cracked and bleeding from where she had clawed at the marble. The message had been sent.
There was nothing left to do but wait.
And hope.
A choked sob cut through the haze of pain.
"Hancock! Wake up! Please—!"
Marigold.
Hancock forced her eyes open, her vision swimming. Across the chamber, her sister hung suspended by rusted chains, her body bruised and trembling on her display pedestal.
"Mari…" Hancock's voice was a ragged whisper.
The collar around her throat hummed, its seastone spikes biting deeper in warning.
A sound echoed down the corridor—footsteps.
Jalmack's laughter slithered through the mansion, getting further and further away.
"—such exquisite pain!"
Hancock's breath hitched.
The holographic screen flickered again—a reply?—but her vision was tunneling, the edges going black.
"Hancock!" Marigold's scream was raw with terror.
Unable to respond, the darkness swallowed her whole.
————
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.
Muyeon stared at the unanswered message, fingers drumming against his thigh. The glow of the holographic screen painted his face in cold blue light, sharpening the calculating glint in his eyes.
Then—
[Plague Monarch]: Dead, perhaps?
Querehsha's words materialized in the chat, laced with her trademark disinterest. Muyeon could almost see her crimson eyes rolling, her claws tapping impatiently against the armrest of her throne.
Before he could reply, the screen exploded with light.
[WARNING: Member 'Snake Princess' at 12% health.]
[Emergency Quest Activated: Immediate aid required.]
[Reward: None listed.]
Muyeon's breath hitched.
No reward. High risk.
His mind raced, weighing the variables. A nameless stranger from an unknown world—was she worth the gamble?
Querehsha's next message sliced through his thoughts like a blade.
[Plague Monarch]: Before making any decisions, pay what you owe, little admin.
A smirk curled his lips.
'Right. Business first.'
His fingers flew across the interface, typing out the promised payment—short, brutal, and devastating.
[Demon Heir]: You die by the Shadow Monarch's hand.
Silence.
The chat log froze, as if even the system itself held its breath.
Then—
[Plague Monarch: …Impossible.]
After all, the Shadow Monarch was her ally…
Muyeon chuckled darkly.
[Demon Heir: The chat doesn't lie.]
Another pause. Longer this time. He could practically hear the gears turning in Querehsha's mind, the shock settling into her bones. The Shadow Monarch would betray her and the other Monarchs?
The implications were catastrophic.
But Muyeon had just handed her the keys to her survival. Knowledge is power, and if you know what could kill you, you're already one step ahead in preventing it.
'Let that simmer,' he thought, turning his attention back to the emergency quest.
The screen pulsed ominously.
[Accept Quest? Y/N]
"Nano, what's the probability of me surviving this quest?"
{Survival Probability: 37.6%}
The numbers hung in Muyeon's vision, stark and unforgiving. His jaw tightened.
"Nano," he thought. "Options."
The machine's voice hummed through his neural pathways, clinical and precise.
{Analysis Complete. Immediate Bodily Reconstruction Recommended.}
{Process Will Purge 100% of Cellular Impurities. Optimize Musculoskeletal Structure. Enhance Neural-Ki Synchronicity.}
Muyeon didn't hesitate. "Do it."
{Phase One: Purification}
A searing heat flooded his veins. His pores erupted with thick black ooze—a vile sludge of metabolic waste, damaged cells, and lingering toxins. The stench hit him like a physical blow, rotting meat and chemical bitterness mingling in the air.
'Ugh… I need a shower…'
{Phase Two: Reconstruction}
His bones crackled, elongating with wet snaps. Vertebrae realigned; his posture straightened effortlessly as he gained two inches of height. Muscle fibers twisted and reformed, knitting into denser, more efficient patterns. His joints clicked into perfect alignment—no more stiffness, no wasted movement.
Nano's voice cut through the discomfort.
{Technique Enhancement and Optimization Available as well}
'Good, work on that while I clean up.' Muyeon instructed as he walked off, a small trail of black sludge dripping from his body as he made his way to the bath.
{Compiling all known sword and palm techniques with Right Sword, Left Palm technique…}
{Removing all unnecessary movements!}
{Right Sword, Left Palm successfully enhanced!}
{Power, Speed, and technique significantly increased!}
{Compiling all known Ki gathering and cultivating techniques with Shadow Veil Breathing Art…}
{Removing all unnecessary information!}
{Shadow Veil Breathing Art successfully enhanced!}
{Ki absorption rate significantly increased!}
{Transmitting new techniques to Master's brain…}
Stepping back into the room, not a speck of black goo remaining on his body, Muyeon dressed as Nano reported to him. He could feel the changes humming through his muscles—the reconstructed techniques settling into his body like second nature.
{Warning: New Technique Parameters Exceed Original Classification.}
{Designate Updated Names?}
"Show me," he commanded.
Right Sword, Left Palm:
A holographic display unfolded before him, showcasing the refined movements. Every slash of the sword left a lingering afterimage, faint as twilight.
Palm strikes now carried a delayed kinetic pulse, hitting twice with a single motion. Footwork had been optimized to exploit blind spots with surgical precision.
"Dark Phantom Style," Muyeon murmured. The name fit—like phantoms striking between light and shadow.
Shadow Veil Breathing Art:
The revised Ki pathways glowed gold in his mind's eye. Breath cycles shortened by 40%, drawing in energy faster. Wasteful meridians pruned, eliminating all energy bleed. Passive absorption now occurs even during combat.
"Abyssal Inhalation Art." A breath that devoured the world's energy like the abyss itself.
{Designations Confirmed.}
{Right Sword, Left Palm → Dark Phantom Style}
{Shadow Veil Breathing Art → Abyssal Inhalation Art}
A smirk tugged at his lips. These weren't even the best techniques hidden in the Cult, yet the upgrades were monstrous. His body felt lighter, and more powerful—like a blade freshly honed.
{Survival Probability Updated: 62.3%}
Still not ideal. But far better.
He glanced at the emergency quest prompt, still pulsing.
"Now or never."
[Accept Emergency Quest? Y/N]
Muyeon exhaled through his nose.
High risk. Sixty-two percent survival rate. And worst of all, no reward.
'Well, I can always take my own reward…'
His fingers flexed, still tingling from Nano's enhancements. The numbers weren't ideal—but then, when had he ever played it safe?
A new message flashed in the chat.
[Plague Monarch]: I know what you're going to do. Don't die. I'd hate to lose my personal fortune-teller.
He could almost hear the smirk in her words.
Muyeon's lips curled in response.
"Accept."
White light erupted.
His chambers dissolved—stone walls bleeding into streaks of luminescence, the very air vibrating as dimensions tore open around him. For a heartbeat, he hung suspended in the void, weightless, timeless—
Then, the white light faded, leaving Muyeon in a blood-soaked bedchamber. Polished marble floors gleamed, streaked with crimson blood, surrounded by gilded walls hung with grotesque trophies—severed limbs in amber, stretched pelts, etc.
A girl crumpled at his feet, her obsidian hair matted with blood, but her features recognizable. Especially the dragon paw tattoo on her back.
'Hancock?'
Muyeon froze.
{Identity confirmed: Boa Hancock.}
Nano's confirmed her identity from his memories of the One Piece anime.
But that wasn't all…
Across the room, a chained girl sobbed—Marigold, her sister.
The chat screen pulsed.
[Snake Princess: 10% health]
Muyeon's mind raced, piecing the situation together. These sisters were slaves once—likely still were, owned by some deranged Celestial Dragon based on the room's twisted decor.
He didn't know where he was or who owned this place. But the One Piece world's power levels were insane—admirals, warlords, monsters beyond his current strength…
Escape was the only option.
Hancock's shallow breaths snapped him back.
'Nano, scan her.' He ordered.
What he found didn't look good. Fractures, internal bleeding, and all manner of horrific long-term injuries.
'Celestial Dragons are seriously sick in the head…' He knelt beside his newest chat member.
Slavery meant guards, maybe devil fruit users. Celestial Dragons were usually weak, but their subordinates weren't. Muyeon's jaw tightened—he couldn't risk a fight here.
{Footsteps Detected: guards, twenty seconds out!}
Muyeon accessed the chat's inventory, summoning a syringe of Querehsha's herb-soaked liquid. Starbloom Petals and Golden Phoenix Pollen glowed within.
"Hey… what are you doing…" Marigold rasped, noticing the stranger beside her sister.
"I'm helping. Now keep quiet."
Without another word, he injected Hancock's neck, her vitality creeping up to 15%. Her eyes fluttered open, onyx orbs blazing with defiance. "Who… are you?" she rasped.
"I'm Muyeon," he whispered. "You asked me to save you, right?"
Muyeon's fingers moved, Nano guiding him to unhook Hancock's spiked collar. It clattered to the floor, easing her pain. She gasped, too weak to resist.
Across the room, Marigold's sobs grew frantic. Muyeon crossed to her, snapping her chains with a pulse of Ki. She collapsed, crawling to Hancock's side.
{Guards, ten seconds away!}
Muyeon's hand gripped his sword. Ki hummed through his veins, ready to strike.
Three guards burst in, batons crackling with strange energy. Muyeon surged forward, a shadow in motion. His sword slashed, afterimages cleaving batons in half.
A palm strike crushed one guard's chest, its delayed pulse snapping ribs.
The second lunged; Muyeon's footwork found a blind spot, his blade piercing a throat.
The third fell soon after, too shocked by the surprise of his comrade's deaths to react in time, his head flying off his shoulders.
Hancock watched, eyes glued to Muyeons every move.
{Strong presence approaching!}
{Probability of death: 99%}
Muyeon didn't know who it was, but the One Piece world's elite could crush him easily. He needed to leave—now.
"Hey," he called to Hancock, kneeling beside her and her sister. "I can get you two out of here, but we have to leave now."
Marigold's trembling voice broke through. "Please… We can't leave Sandersonia. She's still in her cell downstairs!"
Hancock nodded weakly, unwilling to leave her other sister behind.
"We'll come back for her. But for now, we have to worry about ourselves." Muyeon forcefully gripped their arms.
The chat group's quest return function should be able to pull them to his world. He activated it, praying it worked.
""No, wait!"" Hancock and her sister exclaimed simultaneously, but it was already too late.
White light erupted, the chamber dissolving into streaks of radiance. Dimensions tore open, a void swallowing them whole leaving an empty, blood-soaked room behind.
A/N: 1934 words :)
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