Beast Fortress, Construction Site.
Under the shade canopy.
Gurd sipped his tea, his gaze filled with dissatisfaction as he looked at the woman sitting across from him. Even in shackles, she leisurely enjoyed his pastries without a care.
So beautiful—so infuriating!
It was only her first day on the job, and this woman was already slacking off.
Gurd rapped his knuckles sharply against the table. "Lady Hancock, you're a prisoner. Could you at least cooperate and finish your work before resting?"
"What a crude man, forcing a lady like me to do menial labor."
Hancock snorted disdainfully.
"Don't worry, my share of the work is already done."
"Done?"
Gurd was baffled.
The woman had spent the entire day sitting across from him, sipping tea, eating snacks, and even taking his fresh newspaper.
Though pleasant to look at, when had she done any work?
"Lady Hancock!"
Antelope and a few others rushed over, their faces filled with adoration and eagerness. "We finished all your work for you!"
"Dismissed."
Hancock didn't even glance up.
"Ahhh, even cold-hearted Lady Hancock is so beautiful!"
Antelope and the others took three steps before turning back, reluctant to leave, their eyes still glued to Hancock.
And it wasn't just Antelope—the other workers were the same.
Gurd's face darkened.
These useless idiots!
He realized he'd made a mistake. This woman was nothing but trouble at the construction site—not only did she refuse to work, but she also severely disrupted the efficiency of the other workers.
"Chikara, take her to the ship and have her clean!"
"Yes, Lord Gurd."
Chikara couldn't help but stifle a laugh.
She rarely saw Gurd so frustrated.
So cute!
Turning to Hancock, Chikara bowed gracefully and smiled. "Sister Hancock, please come with me."
"Hmph."
Hancock stood triumphantly, tilting her chin up so high she was practically looking at the sky—just short of pointing at the ground.
Clearly, she was declaring her victory.
Even if no one knew what she'd won.
Gurd's forehead throbbed with irritation.
He should've made her scrub toilets—that would've taken her down a peg.
Shaking his head, Gurd flipped through the newspaper.
"The Navy hasn't made a move..."
The Navy was watching him, and he'd been keeping tabs on their movements as well. Days had passed, yet there was no reaction from them.
His abilities had been exposed—it was only a matter of time. There was no hiding it, and the World Government wouldn't just sit idle.
For the Navy to engage them in the New World, they'd either need to mobilize forces on the scale of the Marineford War or have the Celestial Dragons intervene directly.
But for now, it seemed the World Government had no intention of starting a war.
Something unusual was afoot.
After pondering for a long time, Gurd still couldn't shake his unease.
"No, I need to consult the divination!"
Port, Groudon Ship.
The Pirates were all on the island, leaving the ship completely empty.
Chikara handed Hancock a mop, rags, and other cleaning supplies, her expression serious as she instructed,
"Sister Hancock, cleaning is very important. You must take it seriously—I won't help you!"
"But I don't like—"
"No buts!"
Chikara remained unmoved, cutting off Hancock's attempt at sweet-talking. When it came to cleaning, she had an unshakable conviction.
This was the only reason she could stay by Lord Gurd's side!
"No dinner until you finish!"
"..."
A vein pulsed on Hancock's forehead.
She was a queen!
However, seeing Chikara diligently cleaning the room, Gurd couldn't help but recall past events, swallowing back his reprimands.
Perhaps because of shared experiences, though reluctant, the woman still picked up a mop and began cleaning alongside Chikara.
Half an hour later.
"Snap!"
Hancock, her back aching from exhaustion, angrily snapped the mop in two.
Why should I, your queen, be doing chores?!
Hancock poured herself a drink and sprawled inelegantly on the sofa, legs splayed wide. "Chikara, how did you leave the Holy Land?"
"Me? I was exiled."
Chikara's expression darkened.
"Exiled?"
Hancock was stunned.
In her memory, slaves only met death—never had she heard of one being exiled to the lower world.
Knowing Chikara didn't want to revisit those memories, she couldn't help but press further.
"Why?"
"Because... I'm the child of my mother and a Celestial Dragon."
Chikara's mood sank. She felt a natural trust in Hancock, and these confessions could only be shared with another former slave like her.
Though a bastard child, her life since childhood was no different from a slave's. Her mother taught her to clean and practice noble etiquette, all to please that so-called "father."
Facing his growing disgust and violent beatings, she endured silently, not even daring to cry.
In truth, Celestial Dragons would never allow bastards to exist, seeing them as stains on divine bloodlines. Once discovered, they had to be disposed of.
Had her "father" not felt some unwarranted pity for her mother, she would have been killed long ago.
Eventually, she and her mother were secretly sent away from the Holy Land, only to fall into the hands of traffickers, helpless and alone.
After changing hands multiple times, her mother fell ill and died, and Chikara was sent to the Slave Arena on Champion Island, becoming a gladiator.
Hancock clenched her glass.
Born in the Holy Land and enslaved since childhood, she knew all too well how tragic such a past was.
Celestial Dragons never saw them as human.
Late at night, she would remember being locked in bloodstained cages, toyed with like pets alongside her sisters.
"I'm sorry."
"Sister Hancock, it's alright."
Chikara forced a smile.
"I'm very happy with my life now!"
"..."
Hancock's heart ached.
For slaves, even the smallest kindness was priceless—the only thing that kept them going.
She had been the same once.
Hancock smiled like an elder sister, picking up a rag. "Chikara, teach me how to clean, and I'll teach you how to fight. Deal?"
"Eh? Really?"
Chikara was overjoyed.
She was weak, good for nothing but chores. Even in fights, she muddled through, never remembering what happened afterward.
She wanted to grow stronger to help Lord Gurd.
"Of course. I like you very much, little sister."
Hancock wiped the corners of her eyes, smiling.
Ten minutes later.
"Snap!"
The woman violently snapped another mop in half!
"Why should I, your queen, be doing chores?!"
"It's all that rude man's fault!"
"I'll make him pay for this!"
Meanwhile, in the Calm Belt.
A marine ship sailed through the still waters.
On deck, the sailors nervously scanned their surroundings, terrified Sea Kings might appear—their cannons useless against such monsters.
If it weren't for Vice Admiral Momonga and the Royal Seven Warlords of the Sea escorting us along the way, the warship would have long become food for the Sea Kings.
The marines looked at the massive figure sitting beneath the mast and swallowed hard.
One of the Royal Seven Warlords of the Sea!
"Tyrant" Bartholomew Kuma!
"We've arrived!"
Vice Admiral Momonga gazed at the faintly visible fortress on the horizon, then turned to face Kuma as he said solemnly, "From here, you just need to deliver those two VIPs to the island ahead. Then your mission will be complete, Kuma."
"Easily done."
Kuma closed his Bible.
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