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Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp stood rigid in Saint Jalmack's mansion, his broad frame dwarfing the gilded hall. His weathered face twisted into a scowl as Jalmack gestured to his "living dolls"—slaves chained to walls, their bodies contorted into grotesque, lifeless poses. Their hollow eyes stared through Garp, silent pleas buried under years of torment.
Jalmack's laughter echoed, sharp and venomous. "Aren't they exquisite?" he was proud, stroking a slave's matted hair. The girl flinched, her shackles clinking, and Garp's fists clenched until his knuckles whitened.
Every fiber of Garp's being screamed to end this monster. His Marine honor, forged through battles against pirates, churned with disgust at Jalmack's cruelty. One punch could shatter that smug face, but duty chained him.
Jalmack caught Garp's glare and grinned wider. "Oh, you don't approve?" he taunted, kicking a slave's leg, drawing a muffled whimper. "They're mine to shape, old man."
Garp's jaw tightened, his teeth grinding. He'd faced countless evils, but this Celestial Dragon's depravity was a stain on the world. Yet, as a vice admiral, he was bound to Saint Jaygarcia Saturn's order.
Jalmack sauntered closer, his powdered face gleaming with sadistic glee. "This one screamed so prettily," he said, pointing to a boy whose fingers were bent backward. "Took days to perfect his pose."
Garp's stomach lurched, bile rising in his throat. He imagined Luffy's face, free and defiant, and the thought of him in Jalmack's hands fueled his rage. But a single act against a Celestial Dragon would unravel the World Government's order.
"You're quiet, Garp," Jalmack sneered, circling him like a vulture. "Don't tell me the Hero of the Marines is squeamish!" He laughed, delighted by the vice admiral's restrained fury.
Garp's eyes burned, but he held his tongue. He stood firm, his silence a shield against the chaos his fists craved.
Jalmack clapped, undeterred. "Come, I've got something even better!" He turned, beckoning Garp toward the dungeons, his voice dripping with anticipation.
Garp followed, his heart heavy. Whatever Jalmack had planned, it would test his restraint further. The Celestial Dragon's power was absolute, and Garp was its unwilling enforcer.
Saint Jalmack's eyes gleamed with sadistic delight, feeding off Garp's barely concealed disgust. The vice admiral's clenched fists were a prize, urging Jalmack to push further. "You'll love this one, old man," he purred, beckoning Garp toward the mansion's dungeons.
They moved through opulent corridors, gold-plated walls mocking the horrors below. Jalmack's voice dripped with glee as he spoke. "My favorites, Hancock and Marigold, were stolen by a thief, but I kept this one."
Garp's scowl deepened, his boots heavy on the marble. Jalmack twirled a jeweled cane, oblivious to the vice admiral's simmering rage. "She's been my outlet all day, soothing my frustrations," he sneered.
The air grew colder as they descended stone steps, the stench of blood and despair thickening. Jalmack's laughter bounced off the walls, chillingly out of place. "Her screams are divine—almost as good as her sisters'," he boasted, savoring Garp's tightening jaw.
They reached a rusted cell door, its bars stained in dried blood. Jalmack paused, gesturing theatrically, his powdered face alight with pride. "Behold my masterpiece!" he declared, stepping aside for Garp to see.
Garp peered into the cell, and his breath caught, face contorting in horror. His eyes widened, a rare tremor running through his massive frame. The sight within was unspeakable, a cruelty beyond even his battle-hardened experience.
Jalmack clapped, thrilled by the reaction. "Isn't she perfect?"
————
Minutes earlier….
A flash of light spat Muyeon, Hancock, and Marigold into Saint Jalmack's bed-chamber, now pristine, its marble floor gleaming without blood or bodies. Marigold, in better shape than her sister, led with Kuja precision, her knowledge of the mansion guiding them through shadowed halls.
Muyeon followed, sword unsheathed, senses razor-sharp.
Hancock trailed behind Muyeon, eyes fierce.
Marigold gestured toward a corridor, her memory unerring.
{Environment scan complete. Guard approaching: Left corner.}
Just as Nano had warned, an armed guard rounded the corner. Muyeon moved like a specter, his blade flashing across the man's throat, blood spraying. With a flick, he opened the chat inventory, absorbing the crimson flood to erase any trace.
As the guard's body crumpled, lifeless, Muyeon froze, a sudden idea flickering to life.
The chat barred living beings, but blood worked. Could it store the dead? Muyeon tested it, and the guard's body vanished into the inventory, leaving no trace.
'I should have thought of this earlier…' Muyeon's lips twitched, the discovery streamlining their mission.
They pressed on, passing gilded Celestial Dragon statues. A maid with linens froze, eyes wide. Muyeon's sword pierced her heart before she screamed, her blood and body sucked into the chat inventory's glow.
Hancock and Marigold stood unmoved. These guards and servants facilitated Jalmack's cruelty—none were innocent. They did nothing to ease the suffering. Worse, many relished it, smug in their imagined superiority over their master's slaves.
The sisters' cold stares mirrored their hatred for Jalmack's enablers. No corpse remained to be found, Muyeon's inventory erasing all evidence.
Marigold led past a torture chamber's iron door, screams muffled within. Two guards patrolled ahead, swords gleaming. Muyeon lunged, his blade decapitating the first, the head vanishing into the inventory with its blood.
The second guard swung, but Muyeon parried, gutting him with a twist of his sword. Blood and body dissolved into the chat, leaving the corridor pristine.
{Witness elimination efficiency: 96%.}
'Thanks for the compliment.'
Hancock and Marigold moved without hesitation, hardened by suffering. The sisters saw justice, not murder, in these deaths.
They slipped through a servants' passage, Marigold's steps swift. A lone guard stood, back turned. Muyeon's sword pierced his spine, the body and blood vanishing instantly into the inventory.
Muyeon's efficiency ensured no trace remained, bodies and blood locked in the void, making their kills invisible, a perfect cover.
Marigold paused at a stairwell, whispering, "The dungeons are close."
{Proximity to target: 50 meters.}
'At least I know we're going in the right direction…'
They descended into the dungeon's depths, the air thick with despair.
{Strong presence detected!}
{Probability of death: 79%}
Muyeon froze, but the sisters didn't get the same warning as him.
They continued around a corner, eager to save their sister, and froze at the sight of Saint Jalmack and Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp before Sandersonia's cell. Jalmack's manic laughter clashed with Garp's horrified expression, his face a mask of revulsion.
Peaking around the corner, Muyeon recognizes Garp instantly—Hero of the Marines, father of Dragon the Revolutionary, and grandfather of the future Pirate King, Luffy.
{Combat success against Monkey D. Garp: 3%.}
Outmatched, he signaled for the sisters to back up and hide, his hand gripping his sword.
Hancock and Marigold, consumed by worry, ignored him. Their eyes locked on the cell, and they surged forward, desperation overriding caution. They shoved Jalmack aside, sending the Celestial Dragon sprawling with a yelp.
Jalmack hit the floor, his pristine clothes dirtied.
Hancock and Marigold burst into the cell, then stopped, their screams shattering the silence. Tears streamed down their faces as they beheld Sandersonia's tortured form.
Sandersonia hung suspended by hooked chains, her skin peeled in strips, draped over the hooks that pierced her flesh. Blood dripped to the stone floor, her body a canvas of Jalmack's cruelty. Her green hair, matted with gore, framed a face barely clinging to life.
"Hancock…? Marigold…?" Sandersonia muttered, straining her eyes just to see them.
"You came back for me," She whispered, her bloodied lips trembling. "I knew you would." Her voice broke, faint but fervent, "He said you abandoned me, but I knew you'd never…"
Hancock sobbed, collapsing to her knees, cradling Sandersonia's face. "We're here, Sonia," she choked, her voice raw with grief. Marigold clutched her sister's hand, tears falling, whispering apologies through her anguish.
Sandersonia's eyes flickered, her faith in her sisters a fragile light amidst the agony. "You didn't leave me," she rasped, each word a struggle. The sisters' bond, forged in slavery's crucible, held fast, but the sight of her suffering broke them.
Muyeon stepped forward, no longer able to hide. 'Nano, sync with the chat group and prep to pull me back home instantly. We'll try to save the sisters if possible, but my survival comes first…'
{Ready to leave at any moment!}
He strolled beside Garp, curious as he peered into the cell. Sandersonia's state was worse than he'd imagined. Locking eyes with the culprit, Muyeon sneered, "You're truly a twisted wretch, aren't you?"
Garp's hands trembled, his horror mirroring the sisters'. He'd seen war's atrocities, but this was a personal hell, crafted by a Celestial Dragon's whims. His silence spoke louder than any curse, his duty a bitter chain.
Hancock's sobs filled the cell, her fingers brushing Sandersonia's cheek, careful not to worsen her pain. Marigold's grip tightened, her rage and sorrow a tangled storm. They clung to their sister, as if their love could undo the cruelty done to her.
Sandersonia's breaths were shallow, her words a fading echo. "I waited… I knew…" Her voice trailed off, her strength ebbing. The sisters' tears soaked the stone, their grief a raw wound.
Witnessing everything from his spot on the floor, Saint Jalmack scrambled to his feet, "My toys returned!" he exclaimed happily.
Muyeon's gaze burned, Sandersonia's tortured form seared into his mind. He wasn't a saint—hell, he'd call himself a villain most days—but Jalmack's sadism was a sickness he'd never stoop to. The Celestial Dragon's joy in this cruelty actually managed to churn his stomach.
Drawing his sword, Muyeon stepped toward Jalmack, its blade glinting with intent. He'd end this freak here and now…
Jalmack's smirk faltered, sensing the threat. "H-Hang on! Wait a minute…"
But before Muyeon could do as he pleased, Garp moved, his massive frame blocking Muyeon's path. "Take the girl and go," he said, voice low, eyes blazing with barely restrained fury. His disgust for Jalmack was palpable, yet duty held him like iron.
Muyeon paused, surprised.
{Garp's emotional state: 97% hostility toward Jalmack.}
He saw the vice admiral's trembling fists, his rage climbing by the second.
Jalmack shrieked, spit flying from his mouth. "Kill him, Garp! Pound him into meat and capture my toys now!" His voice cracked, a spoiled child denied his whims.
Garp didn't budge, his broad shoulders a wall. "Take her and go," he repeated, ignoring Jalmack's tantrum. A Celestial Dragon's death in the Holy Land would unleash chaos, and Garp knew it.
All he could offer was this fleeting chance to escape…
Muyeon studied Garp, seeing the Marine's conflict—hatred for Jalmack warring with his oath. He wasn't a good man, but this? This was a line even villains didn't cross without reason.
Jalmack's face reddened, his foot slamming the floor. "You dare defy me?" he screamed, voice shrill. "I'll have your head, Garp!"
Garp's eyes never left Muyeon, his silence a louder rebuke than any shout. His fists clenched, knuckles white, but he held his ground. Duty bound him, but his soul recoiled from Jalmack's evil.
Muyeon's grip on his sword tightened, then eased. Garp's defiance was a rare gift, a chance to escape with the sisters.
Jalmack's screams grew incoherent, his authority crumbling. "Obey me!" he wailed, stomping like a petulant child.
Muyeon nodded to Garp, acknowledging the Marine's unexpected aid. He turned toward the cell, ready to leave, but Hancock and Marigold's rage erupted, their eyes blazing with vengeance. They lunged past him, aiming to tear Jalmack apart.
But Muyeon moved faster, his hands snapping out like vipers. He grabbed their faces, slamming their heads into the stone floor with brutal precision. Both sisters collapsed, unconscious, their bodies limp.
He slung Hancock over one shoulder, Marigold over the other, their weight no burden to his trained frame.
Jalmack's screams pierced the air, demanding Garp act, but the vice admiral stood still, eyes locked on Muyeon. His silence was a shield, defying the Celestial Dragon's orders.
Muyeon approached Sandersonia, her frail form still hooked on cruel chains. He worked quickly, unhooking her as she whimpered, barely conscious. Blood seeped from her wounds, but he steadied his hands, driven by necessity.
Lifting her in his arms, Muyeon cradled Sandersonia, her shallow breaths warm against his chest.
{Target vitals critical. Immediate extraction and treatment recommended.}
Jalmack's tantrum grew shrill, his voice cracking. "Kill them, Garp! They're mine!" he wailed tirelessly.
Garp's gaze never wavered, his fists clenched, restraining a fury that could shatter mountains. His disgust for Jalmack was a tangible force, yet duty held him back. He nodded slightly, urging Muyeon to move.
Muyeon met Garp's eyes, a rare respect passing between them. "Thank you," he said, voice steady, acknowledging the Marine's help.
[Quest Complete: Save Sandersonia.]
[Reward: A date with Boa Hancock.]
The chat hologram pulsed, the return function activating on its own.
A blinding light erupted, engulfing Muyeon and the three sisters. The dungeon dissolved, Jalmack's screams fading into a distant echo. They vanished from Mary Geoise, swallowed by the void of dimensional travel.
Garp stared at the empty cell, its chains dangling, stained with Sandersonia's blood. He'd bent his duty without breaking it, but the memory of Sandersonia's suffering would linger.
Garp turned, his boots echoing, leaving Jalmack to his hollow rage. 'Sengoku isn't going to be happy about this…'
A/N: 2225 words :)
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