"My lord, his name is Pagaya. Please, he meant no harm—he was just worried about me. He's my oldest friend, and he acted rashly. Could you spare him this once?"
Conis let out a quiet sigh, stepping forward to plead for Pagaya. A faint weariness edged her voice, though she hid it well.
Having a friend like him was exhausting. She'd always seen Pagaya as dependable. As kids, he'd throw punches with the neighborhood bullies, taking hits to his bruised face just to shield her. But now? He was a shadow of that boy—timid, unreliable. No wonder he'd never made the cut for the Divine Soldiers or earned a spot in Upper Yard. Maybe the real warriors of Skypiea had all been claimed long ago.
Still, what could she do? Flawed or not, Pagaya was her childhood companion. To pull him from this mess, Conis steeled herself and spoke up.
"You really want to stick your neck out for him?" A low voice murmured close to her ear, laced with mocking chill. Ross had slipped nearer without a sound, his breath warm against her skin. "Deep down, he might despise you for it. Think about that."
The words slithered like a devil's temptation, sending a shiver down Conis's spine.
"I don't believe it!" she shot back, shaking her head firmly. Her voice rang with conviction.
In her eyes, these people just needed a spark of courage. How could they hate her for trying to help? She'd seen Ross raise his hand earlier, signaling the woman on the god statue to hold back. That had been a warning—this time, blood would flow if she didn't intervene. To Conis, this was about saving lives.
"Oh? That confident, huh?" Ross's lips twisted into a sly grin. "Let's bet on it, then. We'll see if he's cursing you under his breath. If I'm wrong, I let all you Sky Islanders walk free, and my crew and I leave right now. But if I'm right..."
He trailed off, eyes locking onto hers with predatory curiosity.
"I'll do whatever you want."
"I'm in," Conis replied instantly, chin lifted defiantly. She met his gaze, her clear eyes blazing with determination.
This was a no-lose gamble. More than that, it was Skypiea's salvation. She knew she was in the right—and Pagaya, her friends, they'd understand why she had to try.
"Deal," Ross said, nodding as his smile deepened.
The ideal spokesperson for Skypiea wouldn't be some spineless fool. They needed trust from the locals, but with a healthy detachment—maybe even a seed of doubt. Best if they saw themselves as outsiders first: part of the Celestial Dragon bloodline, yet tied to Skypiea. Only then could they truly belong.
His eyes flicked to Pagaya, who cowered on the ground like a frightened bird. "Pagaya, was it? On your feet. For Conis's sake, I'll overlook your little outburst. You can head to Upper Yard with her."
"N-no, my lord! Please, have mercy! Upper Yard is sacred—the gods' domain. A nobody like me can't set foot there!"
Pagaya flailed his arms, head whipping side to side in panic. His face drained of color, terror twisting his features. He looked ready to drop to his knees and grovel.
When Conis had spoken up, he'd exhaled in secret relief, certain disaster had passed. But now Ross wanted to drag him to Upper Yard? That was worse than a quick death!
Guiding outsiders there? It'd brand him a traitor, inviting divine wrath. The Roger Pirates had stormed it once, sure—but they had the muscle to bend a god to their will. Back then, the gods had backed down. Now? If Pagaya led the way, he'd be the scapegoat.
He wouldn't risk the gods' unpredictable mood. They were benevolent, yes, but ultimate arbiters of Skypiea. By contrast, Ross seemed almost reasonable.
"No more debate, Pagaya." Ross cut through his pleas like a blade, voice brooking no argument. "You've got two options: go with Conis, or..."
"Sir, the second one! I pick the second!"
Pagaya yelped, lunging upright as if Ross might retract the offer. His grudge against Conis boiled over.
This was all her fault—that meddling woman! If she'd kept quiet from the start, the square's crowd would have spread the risk. He wouldn't be the unlucky one!
He couldn't touch Ross, but Conis? No such restraint. For now, he swallowed his venom, muttering silent curses in his head.
"The second one?" Ross chuckled, savoring the moment. This was his favorite game: devil's choice.
He eased the platinum pistol from his belt—a gleaming tool of cold metal that had been his constant since arriving in this world. With a casual flick, it hovered toward Pagaya, wrapped in a shimmer of seawater.
"Pull the trigger. End your friend, and you skip Upper Yard altogether."
The barrel leveled at Conis's chest.
"You want me to shoot Conis?" Pagaya gaped at Ross, eyes wide with horror, as if staring down a demon.
"Don't worry, Pagaya," Conis said softly, biting her lip to force a reassuring smile. "Come with me to Upper Yard. It'll be fine."
She wasn't fazed by the gun. Pagaya wouldn't fire—she was sure of it. This was just Ross's ploy to break him. Once Pagaya agreed to go, Skypiea would be safe. The gods were forgiving; after Ross left, they'd see the intruders' rudeness for what it was and move on.
"This... I..."
Pagaya's face crumpled, features knotting in agony. Veins throbbed on his forehead, sweat pouring down in rivers. He couldn't decide—couldn't even grasp the weapon.
He was adrift, eyes wild as he scanned the crowd's blank stares. Someone, anyone—help!
Shoot Conis or face Upper Yard's judgment? Either way, but not on him!
His pleas fell on deaf ears. The surrounding Sky Islanders stood like statues, numb and silent. They'd vouched for Pagaya earlier—who'd do the same for them now?
"You...!"
Realization hit: no saviors, no shared burden. The dam broke.
He was just a regular guy—why force this on him?
"Aaah! Conis, it's all your fault!"
Pagaya's wail echoed through the square. In a haze of rage and despair, he snatched the pistol and— to Conis's stunned disbelief—aimed it straight at her heart.
—
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