The transition was a sensory assault. The sterile, ancient air of Pangea Castle was ripped away and replaced by a miasma of coal smoke, rust, and the coppery tang of blood. But beneath it all was a third, more potent scent: the raw, animalistic musk of rutting and fear. The groaning of the undead was a constant, mournful chorus that seemed to be the very soundtrack to this world's decay.
Garp immediately took a fighting stance, his eyes scanning the darkness. "Smells like a graveyard and a brothel," he grunted, a wide grin spreading across his face. "I like it."
Tsuru's hand was on her sword, but her Observation Haki was flaring for a different reason. "There are dozens of them. Kabane. Mindless. But there's something else… people. Living people. Their fear… it's… arousing." She shivered, not from cold, but from the palpable waves of desperate emotion washing over her.
Jack remained calm, his grey eyes taking in every detail. This was his first conquest, and he intended to enjoy it. "They're on this train. We find them. We learn. And we teach." He placed a hand on the wall of the car, feeling the vibrations through the metal. "This train… it's a mobile fortress. A breeding ground on rails. Perfect."
They moved with silent efficiency, Garp's heavy footsteps muffled by Jack's application of Haki. They found the first group of survivors huddled behind a makeshift barricade. They were a ragged bunch, their faces smudged with grime and terror, but their eyes held a primal, hunted look. In this world, clothes were a hindrance, and many of the women wore little more than rags, their bodies bared to the grim air. A man with a thick mustache aimed a rusty rifle at them, his hand trembling.
"Who… who are you?" he stammered.
"We are your future," Jack said, his voice calm and carrying an innate authority that made the man's breath catch in his throat. "We are the new law."
Before any further conversation could happen, a wet, rhythmic slapping sound drew their attention. In a dark corner of the car, a large, shaggy mastiff was mounted atop a young woman who couldn't have been older than sixteen. Her dress was torn up around her waist, and she lay face down on the floor, her body rocking in time with the animal's brutal thrusts. She wasn't fighting it. She wasn't even crying. Her eyes were glazed over, her mouth parted in a silent moan of resigned pleasure. A few feet away, an older man who shared her features watched, his hand stroking his own erect cock, his expression a mixture of shame and sick fascination. He was her father, and this was their grim ritual.
Garp simply blinked, his confusion giving way to a lecherous grin. "Well, that's a new one. Even we don't do that with the royal dogs."
Tsuru, however, was utterly captivated. She stepped closer, her analytical mind burning with curiosity. This was a new form of the freeuse dynamic, born from the ashes of civilization. She watched the coupling with intense focus, noting the animal's primal dominance and the girl's complete, broken submission. It was a raw, ugly version of the power exchange she knew, and it was fascinating.
The survivors reacted with a volatile mix of shame and anger. The young man with the rifle turned crimson. "Turn away, you beasts!" he yelled, his voice cracking. "Have you no decency?"
Jack laughed, a cold, sharp sound that cut through the man's fury. "Decency? Decency is a luxury for a world that isn't dying." He walked towards the scene, his companions following. He stopped before the father, whose hand froze on his cock. "Is she yours?" Jack asked, his voice soft as silk.
The father flinched but nodded, unable to meet Jack's eyes.
"Then why do you let an animal defile my future property?" Jack asked, his tone dropping to a dangerous low.
The father looked up, horrified. "Property? She's my daughter!"
"Not anymore," Jack said simply. He looked down at the girl, whose hips were now pushing back against the dog's knot, a desperate whine escaping her lips. "She's just another hole in a world full of them. But she has spirit. I can see it in her eyes. She's not broken. She's just… waiting for a real master."
He looked back at the father. "You will watch. You will see what a true master looks like. And you will learn that pleasure is not a desperate act of survival, but a reward for power."
Just then, the main door to the car was smashed inward. A horde of Kabane, their blackened hearts glowing like malevolent jewels, poured into the car. The survivors screamed, scrambling back behind their barricade. The young man with the rifle fired, the shot bouncing harmlessly off a Kabane's skull.
Garp laughed, a sound of pure, unadulterated joy. "Now this is what I'm talking about!" He charged forward, his fist already coated in the black sheen of Armament Haki. "GARP GUN!" he roared, his punch connecting with the lead Kabane. The creature didn't just stop; it exploded, its body pulverized into a shower of black gore and bone fragments that splattered across the walls and the screaming survivors.
Tsuru was a blur of motion. Her sword was a silver streak as she danced through the horde, her movements economical and deadly. She didn't just kill; she performed. Each slice was a work of art, a spray of arterial blood painting the metal walls. She moved with a sensual grace, her body twisting and turning as she disemboweled the monsters, a look of intense concentration on her face that was almost orgasmic.
And Jack… Jack simply walked through the carnage. He was a god of death in a human form. As a Kabane lunged at him, he held up a single finger. A wave of invisible force, his Conqueror's Haki, washed over the creature. It froze mid-lunge, its glowing heart flickering, before it simply collapsed, its will to exist extinguished. He walked over to the girl and the dog, which was still knotted inside her. With a casual kick, he sent the animal flying across the car, where it hit a wall with a sickening crunch and lay still. The girl whimpered, her body trembling on the floor.
The survivors watched in stunned, terrified silence. This was not a fight; it was an extinction. In less than a minute, the car was cleared, leaving only the three of them standing amidst the gore. Garp was panting, his massive chest heaving, his grin wider than ever. Tsuru was licking a speck of blood from her lips, her eyes shining.
The young woman with the scarf, Ayame, stared at Jack, her rifle forgotten at her feet. The fear in her eyes had been replaced by a terrifying, undeniable awe.
Jack stepped over a dismembered corpse and approached her. He stopped in front of her, his body radiating power and the coppery scent of the Kabane's blood. "You live like animals because you believe you are animals," he said, his voice a low, hypnotic rumble. "You accept that your daughters are fucked by dogs because you think humanity is dead. I am here to tell you that you are wrong."
He turned to Garp. "Garp. Find the engine room. Take control of this train. Kill anyone who resists and fuck anyone who surrenders. Make them understand the new order."
Garp's grin was feral. "With pleasure."
He turned to Tsuru. "Tsuru. Find the leader of this rabble. Bring them to me. And find out everything you can about this world's technology, its other 'fortresses,' and its strongest warriors. Use any… persuasive methods you see fit."
Tsuru sheathed her sword, her movements fluid. "It will be done."
Finally, Jack looked back at Ayame. He grabbed her by the scarf, pulling her close. "You. You have spirit. You will be my liaison. My first concubine from this world. You will help me understand your people, and you will help them understand their new god." He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "The first rule of my new world is simple. Your body is not your own. It is mine. It belongs to the strong. And we," he said, gesturing to himself and his companions, "are the strong. Now, get on your knees and show me your gratitude."
Ayame's breath hitched. She looked into his grey eyes and saw the end of her old life and the beginning of something terrifying and magnificent. She saw the power that had effortlessly commanded death. Slowly, sinking to her knees on the floor littered with Kabane viscera, she reached for the zipper of his trousers. Her hands trembled, not with fear, but with a burgeoning, shameful excitement. The old world was dead. A new one, ruled by a monster of unimaginable power, was just beginning. And she was going to be its first willing subject.