The path through the jungle widened into a small, unnatural clearing. It was too symmetrical, the trees at the edges standing like sentinels in a perfect circle.
Sunlight, thick and golden, poured into the space, illuminating the centerpiece of this pathetic stage.
I watched the elaborate "treasure site" materialize through the prehistoric foliage like a bad stage production that had somehow received funding.
'Gold' coins scattered artistically across moss-covered stones. 'Jeweled' artifacts positioned at angles that caught the filtered sunlight just so. Ancient-looking chests with their lids conveniently ajar to display 'glittering' contents.
'This is the most obvious trap I've ever seen.'
The setup screamed artificiality louder than Zaimokuza's creative writing. Every element was too perfect, too deliberately arranged. Real treasure didn't pose for photographs—it accumulated through chaos, violence, and the kind of messy history that left things scattered rather than curated.
My Mantra was already screaming warnings, tracking the conscious presences hidden in the surrounding jungle. Dozens of them. All positioned with tactical precision around this obvious killzone.
'Forty-three. No, forty-five. Two more just shifted position behind that ridge. All of them watching, waiting for us to walk into their trap like idiots who've never seen a honeypot operation before.'
"TREASURE!" Luffy's shout cut through my tactical analysis like a rubber fist through common sense.
Our captain's eyes had transformed into stars—literally, somehow—as he spotted the glittering display. His body was already coiling, preparing to launch himself toward the bait with all the caution of a lemming discovering a particularly attractive cliff.
"Luffy, stop."
My hand shot out, grabbing our captain's shoulder before he could rocket himself into what was obviously a prepared ambush site. The Hamon energy flowing through my grip wasn't enough to hurt him—rubber body and all—but it was enough to get his attention.
"But treasure!" Luffy protested, pointing at the display with genuine confusion. "It's right there! We should—"
"It's fake," I interrupted, keeping my voice level despite the urge to elaborate on exactly how fake it was. "Or more accurately, it's wax. I have seen enough gold to know how it looks from far away."
RUSTLE! RUSTLE!
At my words, the jungle around us came alive with movement. Not the natural sounds of prehistoric wildlife—this was organized, coordinated, the kind of synchronized emergence that came from military training or extensive practice.
Baroque Works agents stepped out from their concealment, weapons raised and aimed at our position. Guns, swords, crossbows, and even a few exotic-looking weapons I couldn't immediately identify. All pointed at us with the kind of professional focus that suggested they'd done this before.
'Forty-five hostiles. All armed. All positioned to create overlapping fields of fire. Whoever planned this ambush knew what they were doing, tactically at least.'
And standing at the center of it all, emerging from behind the fake treasure display with theatrical flair that would have made Zaimokuza weep with envy—
Mr. 5 adjusted his ridiculous sunglasses, somehow making the gesture look menacing despite the absurdity of wearing sunglasses in a jungle. His coat billowed dramatically in a breeze that didn't exist.
"Well, well, well," he said, his voice carrying that particular smugness that made me want to test whether Hamon could be channeled through sarcasm. "The Straw Hat Pirates. Right on schedule."
Miss Valentine giggled from where she hovered beside him, her parasol spinning lazily. The sound was like nails on a chalkboard—high-pitched, artificial, performed for an audience.
"How predictable!" she trilled. "Following the map like good little pirates! Didn't you think that it's a bit obvious?"
"Looks like we have overestimated you. But well, at the end of the day, a pirate is a pirate." Mr. 5 added with an obvious hint of disappointment and condescension.
'They think they've won. Like by surrounding us with numbers and weapons means automatic victory. Classic overconfidence based on superficial advantage assessment.'
While it was usually right, there was always an exception.
I glanced at my teammates, checking their reactions.
Zoro's hand rested casually on his sword hilts, his expression carrying that dangerous satisfaction that meant he was looking forward to the violence.
Not worried or concerned. Just... interested.
Luffy was still grinning, apparently unbothered by the fact that we were surrounded by armed operatives who wanted us dead or captured. His complete lack of concern would have been concerning if I hadn't spent enough time with this crew to recognize it as normal.
Vivi stood beside Karoo, her posture alert but controlled. The princess knew her role—visible bait, drawing attention while our actual plan unfolded elsewhere.
'Speaking of which...'
I made a quick glance at my compass, checking on the other side.
Nami, Usopp, and Sanji—currently infiltrating the Baroque Works base on the other side of the island, completing their objectives while we provided the distraction.
'Still in position and undetected. The infiltration team is proceeding according to plan. Which means all we need to do is keep the attention here long enough for them to finish.'
Mr. 5 stepped forward, his posture radiating false confidence.
"I'll make this simple," he announced, his voice carrying across the clearing. "Surrender now. Hand over the princess. We'll only hand you over to the Marines, maybe you can escape from there."
Miss Valentine's giggle returned, somehow even more grating than before. "Resistance is futile! You're surrounded! Outgunned! Completely at our mercy!"
The Baroque Works agents shifted, weapons adjusting, clearly expecting us to show fear or panic or at least some acknowledgment of our tactical disadvantage.
But when I looked at my teammates again—
Luffy's grin had widened impossibly. His eyes held that particular gleam that meant he was about to do something spectacularly stupid and somehow make it work.
Zoro's smile was sharp, predatory, the expression of someone who'd just been handed an early birthday present wrapped in violence.
Even Vivi, despite knowing the danger we were in, stood firm. No panic. No terror. Just determination mixed with what might have been grim satisfaction.
'Oi, Oi! I know you guys are confident, but this is too much! We are still surrounded, you know?!'
The confusion rippled through the Baroque Works agents like a wave. I could see it in their body language—the slight shifts in posture, the uncertain glances exchanged, the weapons that wavered just slightly as they tried to process why their victims weren't acting like victims.
Mr. 5's confidence cracked visibly, his sunglasses-hidden eyes probably widening behind those ridiculous lenses. "What—why aren't you—Wait. Where are the rest of them?"
'And there it is. The moment when the ambushers realize they might be the ones who've been played.'
Miss Valentine's smile faltered as she did a quick headcount. "There should be more! Where's the rest of the Straw Hat crew?"
The silence that followed was profound.
Then—
"GO!" Luffy shouted, his grin becoming absolutely feral. "Let's get out of here!"
SHING!!
I raised the Barbossa sword, channeling my will through its mystical connection. The jungle around us responded immediately—not the living trees themselves, but the inanimate things between them.
WHOOSH! RUSTLE!
Dead vines erupted from the forest floor like serpents, writhing through the air with supernatural speed. Fallen branches launched themselves toward the Baroque Works agents' positions. Even loose stones began rolling with purpose, creating obstacles and distractions.
"What the—" One agent's shout was cut off as a vine wrapped around his ankle.
"They are controlling the—AHHH!"
"STOP THEM!" Mr. 5's voice cracked with urgency. "DON'T LET THEM ESCAPE!"
BANG! BANG! BANG-BANG-BANG!
The Baroque Works agents opened fire, their weapons creating a cacophony of gunshots that echoed through the jungle like thunder. Dozens of muzzle flashes lit up the clearing, bullets streaking toward us from multiple angles.
'Here we go.'
I was already moving, both hands coming up as I channeled Hamon through my body. Golden energy crackled along my arm, racing into my hand as I unholstered my pistol and aimed it.
WHOOSH! SHIMMER!
Two intersecting Hamon circles materialized in the air around me, the golden formations spreading out like mystical shields. I positioned them on one side of our group, creating overlapping fields of protection.
PING-PING-PING-PING-PING!
Bullets struck the Hamon barriers, their kinetic energy meeting supernatural resistance. The projectiles didn't bounce off—instead, they seemed to stop, their momentum bled away by the repelling force of the Ripple energy, before falling harmlessly to the ground.
SHING! CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!
On the opposite side, Zoro had drawn all three swords in a blur of motion. His blades moved faster than most people could track, creating a wall of steel that intercepted every bullet aimed at his section of the group.
"Tsk," the swordsman muttered, his expression showing mild annoyance rather than concern. "Is this the best you've got?"
From the front, Luffy simply... stood there.
PING-PING-PING!
The bullets hit his rubber body and bounced off harmlessly, ricocheting in random directions as his Devil Fruit immunity negated their lethality completely.
"Shishishi!" Our captain laughed, already winding up a punch. "That won't work!"
WHOOSH! WHAM-WHAM-WHAM!
His stretched fists shot forward, catching the closest Baroque Works agents with devastating force.
Bodies went flying, weapons clattered to the ground, and suddenly the front of our group had a clear path.
"QUACK-QUACK!"
BRAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
From above, Karoo had leaped high—somehow—and deployed the machine guns hidden under its wings. The duck laid down suppressing fire with surprising accuracy, forcing several agents to dive for cover.
'A duck with machine guns. I'm never going to get used to that sentence being accurate.'
FWOOOM! KABOOM!
Vivi's bazooka roared from behind Luffy's rubber shield, the explosive round streaking toward a cluster of agents who'd been trying to flank us. The detonation sent them scrambling, their formation breaking under the assault.
"Move!" I shouted, already running toward the escape route we'd scouted earlier. "North-northeast! This way!"
BOOM! BOOM! WHOOSH!
Mr. 5 launched himself into the air using his explosive propulsion, his body rocketing upward with multiple detonations. His hands moved to his face—
'Oh, you've got to be kidding me. He's going for the nose-picking attack.'
FLING-FLING-FLING!
Three explosive boogers arced through the air, their trajectories calculated to cut off our escape routes. They weren't aimed at us directly—they were targeting the path ahead, trying to force us back into the killzone.
'Predictable. He's trying to herd us rather than hit us. Smart tactically, but it assumes we'll panic and change course.'
I raised the Barbossa sword, establishing a connection with "The Blue"—that strange, omnipresent network of water that Fishman Martial Arts described. The sensation washed over me like diving into an ocean while still breathing air.
CRACKLE! WHOOSH!
The Hamon flowed through my body, into the sword, outward into the humid jungle air. I could feel the moisture—ambient humidity, water vapor, the condensation on leaves—all of it connected like a sea.
'Hamon—Whale Hammer Wave!'
VRRROOOOOOO!
Golden energy exploded from the Barbossa sword, racing through the water molecules in the air like lightning through a conductor. The moisture became a vehicle for the Ripple, carrying a repelling force that manifested as visible waves of distorted air and liquid droplets.
WHOOOOSH! CRASH!
The wave intercepted Mr. 5's explosive boogers mid-flight. The Hamon-charged humidity wrapped around them, the repelling force creating a barrier that absorbed the detonations' force before they could reach their intended targets.
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!
The explosions happened anyway—Mr. 5's power couldn't be negated—but the Hamon wave redirected the force upward and outward, away from our escape route.
But more importantly—
WHAM!
The repelling wave continued past the explosions, slamming into Mr. 5 himself with devastating force. The bomber tried to counter with another explosion, and I saw the moment when his Devil Fruit power activated—
KABOOM!
—but the Hamon wave didn't care about explosions.
It passed through his body, the repelling ability of the Ripple working on a fundamental level that bypassed his defensive detonations entirely.
"GAAAHHH!"
Mr. 5 was knocked backward through the air, his aerial position completely disrupted as the wave sent him tumbling like a leaf in a hurricane.
'Fishman Karate principles combined with Hamon. The Ripple can affect water inside living bodies, and the repelling force doesn't need to overcome explosions—it just needs to push the person creating them.'
"THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!" Miss Valentine's shriek carried across the clearing. "HIS EXPLOSIONS SHOULD HAVE—"
WHOOSH! SLASH!
A flying sword technique cut through the air toward Miss Valentine, the blade trailing visible wind pressure as Zoro executed his still-developing ranged attack.
The cut wasn't perfect—I could see it wavering, the wind slash not quite maintaining its form—but it was enough to force Miss Valentine into evasive maneuvers.
"Tsk," Zoro clicked his tongue in annoyance even as he continued running. "Still can't control it properly."
'Sigh… Competitive guy won't let someone do with their legs what he can't do with three swords.'
CRASH! WHOOSH!
As we continued running to the opening, a wall of white wax suddenly erupted in front of our path, blocking the escape route with supernatural speed. The substance hardened instantly, creating a barrier that looked like it could withstand artillery.
'Mr. 3. The Wax-Wax Fruit user. Of course, he'd try to trap us with his power.'
But Vivi was already reacting, her tactical knowledge of Baroque Works agents paying off. She'd positioned herself to cover this exact scenario.
"Luffy-san!" she shouted, raising her bazooka. "On my mark!"
FWOOOM! FWOOOM!
Two explosive rounds hit the wax wall in quick succession, their detonations creating stress fractures across the hardened substance. The material was tough—hard as iron, according to what she said—but, like wax, enough heat could destabilize it.
"GOMU GOMU NO—" Luffy's body coiled, his fist drawing back impossibly far. "—BULLET!"
WHAM! CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!
His rubber-enhanced punch hit the weakened wall with the force of a cannonball.
The wax shattered spectacularly, fragments exploding outward like shrapnel as our captain's attack punched straight through Mr. 3's construction.
"GYAHHHH!"
Mr. 3 himself appeared from behind the collapsing wall, his artistic hair somehow maintaining its perfect "3" shape despite the violence. His expression mixed shock with genuine concern as he realized his supposedly impenetrable defense had lasted approximately three seconds.
"Tsk, that spy! However, you're not going anywhere!" he shouted, his hands already moving to create more wax constructions.
'Oh, yes we are. And I'm about to demonstrate why bringing art supplies to a supernatural fight is a terrible idea.'
I aimed my pistol toward Mr. 3 and had the Barbossa sword perpendicular to it while channeling Ripple energy into the deployed Hamon Ether circle.
The golden circle responded immediately, one of them detaching from its defensive position and repositioning itself in front of me.
CRACKLE! GATHER! SHINE!
The center of the Hamon circle began concentrating energy, golden power building like a miniature sun forming in mid-air. The heat intensified, the air shimmering around the formation as the Ripple energy compressed.
'Hamon—Fire Cannon!'
KABOOOOOMM!! BLAAAASTT!!!
The attack erupted from the circle like a dragon's breath given physical form.
FWOOOOOOOSH! ROOOOOAR! HISSSSSS!
Golden flames mixed with Ripple energy, creating a projectile that was part fire, part compressed air, part supernatural force.
WHOOOOSH! MELT!
The wax attack Mr. 3 had been preparing simply... dissolved. The heat from the Fire Cannon melted it before it could fully form, the hardened substance liquefying and evaporating in the face of temperatures that shouldn't be possible from a technique that wasn't technically fire-based.
"WHAT—" Mr. 3's shriek cut off as the attack continued past his melted wax, forcing him to protect himself and dive sideways to avoid being roasted alive.
CRASH! WHOOSH!
But I'd underestimated something critical.
The Fire Cannon didn't stop when it melted the wax. It continued, slamming into the trees behind Mr. 3 in a long line with enough heat to set the prehistoric wood ablaze.
CRACKLE! FLAME!
"Ah, shit."
I'd just started a forest fire. In a jungle. While we were running through it.
'Great job, Hikigaya. You successfully defended against the enemy attack by potentially setting us all on fire. This is exactly the kind of problem-solving that makes people think you're a genius. Truly, your tactical acumen knows no bounds.'
This is what I get for using flashy techniques without considering environmental consequences.
But it was then that I noticed that the whole battlefield came to a complete stop.
Looking at the shocked faces of the Baroque Works agents, looks like the sudden show of power was completely unexpected for them.
"OOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!!!!!" Luffy's eyes sparkled with excitement.
"THAT'S SOOOOO COOOOOL, Hachiman! You Were Just Like A Wizard!!"
"Another one of those? When did you learn that?" Zoro looked equally impressed, which, coming from him, was practically a standing ovation.
"So-So-So-Sorcerer-san…" Vivi's mouth was wide agape, clearly unbelieving what she saw.
"QUAAAAA…." Karro was equally shocked.
'Oh, right. They didn't see the fire cannon before. But…'
"Move! Now!" I shouted, perhaps with more urgency than I'd intended. "The fire will spread!"
"Now is not the time! Keep moving!" I barked, already adjusting our route mentally. "The fire will slow them down more than it slows us! We just need to—"
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!
The Baroque Works agents were out of their shock and resumed shooting, their gunfire creating a constant backdrop of danger as we ran.
The team moved immediately—Luffy leading the charge with his usual complete disregard for danger, Zoro covering a side with his swords ready, Vivi in the middle, and Karoo in the air, and me maintaining defensive techniques to protect our flank and rear.
"After them!"
"Don't lose them in the forest!"
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
The chase began in earnest, bullets whizzing past as the Baroque Works agents pursued us through the jungle.
Some of them were getting closer now, the physically capable ones abandoning ranged weapons for swords, clubs, and other close-combat tools.
Lower-ranked agents emerged from positions along our escape route, some firing guns while others wielded close-combat weapons.
BOOM! SLASH!
Mr. 5 had recovered from my earlier attack, using more explosive propulsion to pursue us through the jungle.
His hands moved constantly—nose-picking, spitting, probably preparing to shed explosive skin cells if he could—launching a continuous barrage of detonating projectiles.
WHOOSH! SPIN-SPIN-SPIN!
Miss Valentine's parasol spun as she flew above the canopy, her aerial position giving her a tactical advantage. I could see her preparing another wind slash, her leg coming up in that distinctive spinning kick.
'Weight manipulation plus rotational energy equals devastating ranged attacks. She's learned to weaponize physics in ways that shouldn't be possible. Devil Fruits are absolutely broken when used creatively.'
And somewhere behind us, Mr. 3 was throwing more wax constructions as projectiles, his artistic Devil Fruit power turning the battlefield into a gallery of hardened sculptures designed to trap, slow, or crush us.
I split my attention between running, coordinating with my teammates, and deploying counter-tactics.
"Incoming!" I raised the Barbossa sword, feeling its connection to 'The Blue' pulse with power. The ambient humidity responded immediately to my call.
FWOOSH! FWOOSH! FWOOSH!
I split my Hamon Ether circle into a dozen smaller connected ones, controlling them with the Barbosa sword. The moisture in the jungle air condensed into these smaller circles, drawn by the sword's affinity and pressurized by Hamon.
WHOOSH! SHIMMER! CRACK!
'HAMON—WATER BARAGE!!!'
Water Bullets erupted from the smaller circles, drawing moisture from the humid air and compressing it into pressurized projectiles.
SPLASH! BOOM! SPLASH! BOOM!
Each one was small—maybe the size of a marble—but moving fast enough that impact force did the work.
THWACK-THWACK-THWACK!
Several lower-ranked agents went down as the Water Bullets struck them, the Hamon-charged projectiles delivering enough kinetic force to disable without killing. They'd have bruises tomorrow, maybe some broken bones, but they'd survive.
'This is not out of compassion, it is just because I may have a use for them if things go our way…'
I switched tactics with my custom flintlock, switching to explosive rounds with practiced speed. The gun barked four times in quick succession—
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!
—each shot tracking toward Mr. 3's latest wax construction with precision guided by Mantra.
KABOOM-KABOOM-KABOOM-KABOOM!
The explosive rounds hit the hardened wax, the heat and blasts made them vulnerable to follow-up attacks.
"Zoro!" I called out, knowing the swordsman would understand.
"On it!"
WHOOSH! SLASH!
He did. His swords came around in a coordinated triple strike, cutting through the compromised material like it was paper rather than iron-hard wax.
CRACK! SHATTER!
Mr. 3's latest barrier fell apart, fragments scattering across the jungle floor as we continued our escape.
"YOU BURTS!! STOP DESTROYING MY ART!" the wax-user shrieked, his voice climbing with genuine offense.
"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG IT TAKES TO CREATE THESE MASTERPIECES?!"
'You created them in seconds, and your so-called masterpieces are trying to kill us. I'll weep for your artistic sensibilities later, preferably after we've escaped and you're unconscious.'
WHAM! CRASH!
Luffy was handling the close-combat agents with his usual efficiency, which meant "punching them really hard and not worrying about the details." His rubber fists created a zone of violence that none of the lower-ranked Baroque Works members could penetrate.
"GOMU GOMU NO—" Our captain wound up another attack. "—GATLING!"
WHAMWHAMWHAMWHAMWHAM!
The rapid-fire punches sent bodies flying in multiple directions, clearing our immediate path even as more agents tried to surround us.
BRAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
From above, Karoo continued providing air support while keeping Miss Valentine in check, the possessed duck somehow maintaining its machine gun fire while flying through a jungle canopy.
The tactical absurdity of a ghost duck with military weapons would have been funny if we weren't actively fleeing for our lives.
FWOOOM! KABOOM!
Vivi's bazooka roared again, this time targeting a cluster of agents who'd been trying to cut us off from the side.
Her knowledge of Baroque Works tactics was paying dividends—she knew their standard flanking maneuvers, their coordinated assault patterns, their preferred ambush positions.
"Left side!" she shouted, already repositioning. "They're trying to—"
BOOM! CRASH!
Mr. 5's explosive attack cut her off, a detonating projectile slamming into the ground near our position. The blast created a crater and sent debris flying, forcing us to adjust course.
'He's not trying to hit us directly anymore. Smart. He's realized that direct attacks get countered. Now he's using area denial—forcing us into specific paths by making other routes too dangerous to traverse.'
WHOOSH-WHOOSH-WHOOSH!
As Karoo had to dodge the fire of some agents, Miss Valentine seized the opportunity by sending a wind slash screaming through the canopy, the compressed air blade cutting through branches and leaves with devastating force.
"Three Sword Style—80 Pound Cannon!!!!"
SLAAAAAAASSSSSSSSHHH!!!!!!!
The attack missed us—barely—but only because Zoro had sensed it coming and redirected it with his own. The wind blade carved a trench through the jungle floor that was deep enough to hide a person.
"Tsk," Zoro's frustration was audible even over the sounds of pursuit. "If I could just—"
He didn't finish the sentence, but I understood. The swordsman was watching these ranged cutting attacks, analyzing them, trying to replicate the technique through observation and combat experience.
'Competitive bastard. Can't stand that someone's doing with kicks what he can't do with swords. That frustration will drive him to master it eventually, but "eventually" doesn't help us right now.'
We burst through another section of jungle, the chase continuing with relentless intensity.
The coordination was working—Hamon attacks controlling the battlefield, Luffy's immunity neutralizing Mr. 5, Zoro pressuring defenses, Vivi and Karoo handling crowd control and tactical intelligence.
We were pulling ahead, but the Baroque Works agents were persistent, their numbers allowing them to maintain pressure even as we took down individual operatives.
'This is a war of attrition. They have more people. We have better individual capabilities. But if this continues long enough, eventually someone makes a mistake, takes a hit, gets slowed down enough that the swarm catches up.'
CRACK! BOOM!
A massive wax construction erupted from the ground ahead of us, Mr. 3 apparently deciding that if barriers didn't work, he'd try creating obstacles directly in our path.
The construct was huge—easily three meters tall—shaped like some kind of abstract sculpture that blocked the entire width of our escape route.
"Again with the art shit?!" I shouted, already preparing another Fire Cannon.
But before I could attack—
WHOOSH! RUSTLE!
Something moved through the trees with supernatural speed. Not one of the Baroque Works agents we'd been tracking. Not one of my teammates.
Something new.
My Mantra pinged—a presence I hadn't detected before, approaching with alarming velocity. The sensation was different from the others, carrying an edge that made my paranoia spike to maximum levels.
'What—'
A figure emerged from the canopy, riding what appeared to be a goddamn sabertoothed tiger covered in tribal markings.
The rider was young—maybe a teenager—holding a watercolor palette in one hand and multiple brushes in the other. Rolled papers were strapped to her back like some kind of artistic arsenal.
'That's... that's Miss Goldenweek. The mysterious one Vivi mentioned. The agent whose abilities nobody understands.'
The sabertoothed tiger moved with impossible grace, leaping from branch to branch with its rider perfectly balanced. The girl's expression was calm, almost bored, like chasing fleeing pirates through a prehistoric jungle was just another Tuesday.
Her brush moved to the watercolor palette with practiced ease. Then, with a motion so fast I almost missed it, she flicked the brush toward us.
'What—'
Something flew through the air—not a solid projectile, more like a blob of paint launched with surprising velocity and accuracy.
I deployed the Hamon Ether circle immediately, golden energy forming a barrier to intercept whatever she'd thrown.
SPLAT!
The paint hit the Hamon circle, and I expected it to be blocked, repelled, neutralized by the Ripple energy.
Instead—
SHIMMER! FORM!
—the paint transformed, taking the shape of a circular symbol drawn in mid-air.
Some kind of pattern, intricate and deliberate, rendered in colors that shouldn't have been visible against the golden glow of my Hamon barrier.
The moment the symbol fully formed—
'I can't move.'
My body had locked up completely. Not paralyzed—I could still feel everything, still breathe, still think. But my muscles simply refused to respond to any commands.
It was like my body had turned to stone, frozen in mid-step.
'Wha-What the hell is this?! Some kind of hypnosis? Paralysis? My Hamon should have neutralized any biological agent, and the Ether should have stopped the projectile, but—'
"Sorcerer-san!" Vivi's voice cut through my panic. "What's wrong?! Why did you stop?!"
I tried to respond, tried to explain, tried to do anything, but my jaw was locked as firmly as the rest of my body.
'Shit. SHIT. This is bad. This is very bad. The crew needs to know—'
Luffy noticed immediately, his battle instincts were apparently functional despite his rubber brain.
Our captain's expression shifted from excitement to concern in a heartbeat.
"OI! What did you do to Hachiman?!" He shouted at Miss Goldenweek, already winding up a punch. "GOMU GOMU NO—"
STRETCH! WHOOSH!
His fist rocketed toward the girl with devastating force, the kind of punch that had demolished buildings and defeated powerful opponents.
But Miss Goldenweek didn't look worried. Didn't flinch. Didn't even stop riding her ridiculous sabertoothed tiger.
Instead, she just... reached behind her back and pulled out one of those rolled papers.
FLICK!
She threw it sideways with a casual toss, the paper unrolling mid-air to reveal a red pattern drawn across its surface.
The moment Luffy's eyes registered the pattern—
WHOOSH!
—his stretching fist changed direction mid-flight. Not because he wanted to.
Not because he'd aimed wrong.
His attack simply... redirected itself, targeting the paper instead of Miss Goldenweek.
WHAM! TEAR!
Luffy's punch destroyed the paper, but Miss Goldenweek was already out of range, her tiger carrying her to a new position with supernatural agility.
"What—" Luffy stared at his fist as it had betrayed him. "Why did I—I was aiming at her, but my punch went—"
'She can control where attacks go. Not physically deflecting them—she's manipulating the attacker's perception or intent somehow. Making them target her drawings instead of her actual position.'
Miss Goldenweek's brush found the watercolor palette again, moving with the kind of practiced efficiency that came from years of training.
Another flick, another paint blob flying through the air.
This time targeting Vivi.
"DODGE!" I tried to shout, but my locked jaw couldn't form words. Only managed a muffled grunt that probably sounded like a dying animal.
But Vivi heard something in that pathetic sound—maybe the urgency, maybe just the fact that I was making noise when I'd been completely silent a moment before.
She threw herself sideways without hesitation, the princess's infiltration training paying off in pure reaction time.
SPLAT!
The paint blob hit the ground where she'd been standing, forming another of those circular symbols.
'If she'd been hit with that... paralyzed like me. Completely vulnerable while being chased by armed agents and Devil Fruit users. Dead within seconds.'
I immediately undeployed the Hamon Ether circle, cutting the energy flow and letting the formation dissipate.
SHIMMER! FADE!
The symbol that had been drawn on my barrier dropped to the ground like normal paint, its supernatural effect apparently tied to the Hamon construct rather than being a persistent curse.
The moment it fell—
SPLAT!
—I could move again.
"EVERYONE!" I shouted, my voice hoarse but functional. "Don't let anything she throws touch you!"
I didn't have time to elaborate.
Because I was already moving, raising the Barbossa sword and channeling my will through its controlling ability.
WHOOSH! RUSTLE!
Dead vines and fallen leaves erupted from the jungle floor, animated by my will transmitted through the sword's mystical connection.
They wrapped around each other, forming crude tentacles that shot toward Miss Goldenweek's position.
'If I can capture and restrain her, disable her ability to throw those paint attacks—'
The vines closed in, moving faster than human reaction time, converging on the girl from multiple angles simultaneously.
But the moment they got close—
FLICK!
Miss Goldenweek threw another paper from her back, this one unrolling to reveal a different symbol. Green patterns, swirling designs, colors that seemed to shift as I looked at them.
And the moment my eyes registered that symbol—
WHOOSH!!
—My target changed.
Not my physical position. Not my body's movements. But my intent, my focus, the fundamental direction of my attack.
The vines I'd been controlling suddenly veered away from Miss Goldenweek, wrapping around the paper instead of the girl. They crushed the drawing, destroyed it completely.
But Miss Goldenweek was already gone, her tiger leaping to another branch with the rider calmly preparing her next attack.
'She... she made me attack the paper. Not physically forcing my vines to change direction—she changed what I wanted to attack. Made me think the paper was my target instead of her actual position.'
A cold shiver ran down my spine.
'That's not hypnosis. That's not paralysis. That's direct manipulation of intent, of purpose, of the fundamental decision-making process that determines where attacks go. How the hell do you fight someone who can control your thoughts just by looking at a drawing?'
Was her ability this broken in the Manga?
Miss Goldenweek's brush returned to the watercolor palette, her movements methodical and practiced.
The other Baroque Works agents were still pursuing us, weapons firing, Devil Fruit powers creating chaos.
But now we had a new problem.
An agent whose ability we didn't understand. Whose attacks couldn't be blocked conventionally. Who could paralyze people with paint and redirect attacks with drawings.
'This... this is going to be complicated.'
The girl flicked her brush again, sending another paint blob flying toward our group.
"DODGE!!"
The Straw Hats scattered immediately, everyone having learned the danger of those seemingly simple artistic attacks.
The blob missed—barely—splatting against a tree trunk where it formed another of those ominous circular symbols.
But we'd lost momentum. Lost the coordination that had been keeping us ahead of our pursuers.
And somewhere in my peripheral vision, I caught movement—
FWOOOM!!
A massive stream of wax erupted from where we'd been standing, the white substance flowing like liquid metal as it targeted Vivi specifically!
'Shit!!!'
...
A/N: Like this, Hachiman is going to fight the first fellow witch!
...I know...I won't make an excuse, because I realised that I wasn't busy, it was just life.
The next Chapter will be on Thursday.
Thank you all for reading!! Hope you enjoyed this one!
Feel free to leave a Comment guys! And Powerstones are much much welcomed!
Have a good day!
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