Apatetia - non-World Government territory.
Five years after the fall of Dressrosa.
"So long as we keep sending healthy bodies to Tequila Wolf they won't be able to ignore us any longer."
"If he wants some of those bodies in the Sabody market he's going to have to share the profit."
"Maybe some of those poor unwanted souls in Sabody could be giving Tequila Wolf a hand, you know? Mariejoia wants finery and trophies, but not everyone's an exotic dancer."
"Tequila Wolf can take the ones who aren't worthy for the World Noble's trophy shelves. They need them young and fit."
Bocke took a long drag on his cigarette and ran a hand through his greasy hair. "The Joker will have to do business with us sooner or later if he wants t'keep a foothold trafficking in the North Blue."
"I hear he's a pervert," said Tsuco, picking dirt out from under his fingernails with a knife. "Takes in bleedin' kids. Keeps 'em."
"Well yeah, keeps the best fer himself don'tcha know?" said Bocke dryly.
"And they say we're scum," replied his brother.
"Hey, I don't judge a buyer so long we get paid. You think half the kids at Tequila Wolf are there just 'cause they're young 'n healthy?"
"Speaking of getting paid," said Tsuco, kicking a pebble out of his way as he and his brother continued down the bustling cobblestone broad walk of the harbor district. "Slim pickings today, eh?"
"Maybe some of the boys will pick up a few souls down at the North Port," said Bocke, glancing around at the crowds.
"Heh, last time Jin hauled in some old man, tried to claim he was mink or something," said Tsuco, rolling his eyes.
"Well, he was hairy."
"I ain't ever seen a mink. They don't turn up on market."
"I knew a half mink in the East Blue. Claimed he could talk to animals. He –"
A quick jab to the ribs from Tsuco cut Bocke off. His brother nodded some thirty degrees to his left and extended a single finger to gesture in that direction.
A young boy…wait, was it a boy? Likely about ten or so years old, was skipping down the cobblestone street amongst the throngs of people.
The child was wearing pink shoes with wedges, purple striped leggings, and a loose green shirt. His…her?...fingernails were painted bright blue. On their head they wore a white cap with what looked like little horn decorations sewn into it. Fluffy blonde hair poked out from underneath.
Its eyes were huge.
The child continued skipping down the street, completely unabashed and seemingly oblivious, trotting in and out between the throngs of people. Not once did it glance back as if to look for an adult, and there was no parental figure in sight.
"What the hell is that?" whispered Bocke. "It is a boy or a girl?" He did a quick three-sixty scan of the surroundings. "Where are the parents, you reckon?"
"Dunno," said Tsuco, his eyes locked on the strange child, making sure not to lose it in the throngs of people. "Who the hell lets their kid out dressed like that?"
"We'd be doing the kid a favor," said Bocke. "Getting the kid away from someone who lets it out in public dressed like that. How old, you reckon?"
"Old enough," said Tsuco. "Parents' own fault. Let's see where it goes."
The child continued its merry trotting down the sidewalk, passersby occasionally stopping to stare at its odd attire, but no adult approached as any sort of parental authority or guardian.
The child spun on its tiny pink heels and flounced down a side street. There were considerably fewer people milling about.
"What, you wanna corner it or coerce it?" muttered Tsuco.
Bocke snorted. "Well hello small child, we are the fashion police. Please allow us to escort you elsewhere where you can change into something more fashionable. We will be issuing your parents a fine."
The child continued its oblivious jaunt and rounded another corner.
They were well past the main harbor district now. The dark alleyway was all but empty, save for the sleeping body of a homeless man, and a drunkard leaning on the crumbling alley wall for support. They paid the child no mind, its ridiculously bright clothes a bizarre contrast against the muddied, dark alley.
"I swear, parents these days."
They hung back. With almost no one else present, they did not want their quarry to realize they were there just yet. Further still, the child continued down the alley, not turning off into any of the side streets that would have diverted back to the more populated harbor district. It occasionally paused to stop and examine a cobblestone or a spot on the decaying walls.
"It must be touched," hissed Tsuco. "Has to be, for it to dress like that and then just wander around. Parents probably wanted to lose it."
"You don't need brains to haul rocks all day," replied Bocke. "I think there's an old shipping house up here. Maybe we can corner it in there. Avoid commotion."
No sooner had he said this than the child halted, gazing up at a large, run-down old building. The warehouse used to house shipments prior to departure, but a larger and better one had been built closer to the district, leaving this particular building decayed and abandoned.
The child gazed at the rotting door with its huge eyes and pushed it open.
"It's doing our job for us," chuckled Bocke. "Get the rope ready. And the ether, just in case."
They drew up together to the door and slowly pushed it open. It let out a long creaking groan and a cloud of dust rose at their feet as they stepped inside.
They blinked rapidly, eyes adjusting to the darkness and the dusty, moldy air.
"Hello?" called out Tsuco in an uncharacteristically jovial voice. "Is anyone in here? Anyone who might be lost?"
"Kyaa! You found me!"
Tsuco and Bocke spun around to see the child, standing right behind them.
Its eyes seemed almost over-bright in the dark.
"Oh thank goodness!" said Bocke, kneeling down to the child's level and speaking in a patronizing tone. "We saw you wandered in here and we were so worried! Are you lost little…umm…girl? Boy?"
"This is no place for a nice young lady like you," said Bocke, smiling. "I think it's safe to say you're a little lost. Why don't you come with my brother and I? We'll help you find your parents."
"I'm not lost," the small child beamed. "And you're lying."
The child raised its hands to their mouth and giggled, shrilly, the noise echoing eerily off the walls.
"Oh, a perceptive brat are you?" said Tsuco, unwinding the rope coiled at his waist. "Well, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. You come with my brother and me, or you come with my brother and me. Take your pick, you little freak."
The child giggled again. "Kya! Oh no! You're so scary!"
Tsuco lunged for the child. No sooner had he done so, it vanished.
"I'm over hereeee!" came a singsong voice from behind them.
The brother spun around only to catch a glimpse of the child before it darted away again with astonishing speed.
"Too slow!" it giggled, darting under Bocke's legs and cropping up suddenly next to Tsuco. "You losers are too slow to catch me! Kyahaha! So borrrringgg!"
The child twirled and waved its hands tauntingly, its high pitched giggle bouncing off the musty walls.
"Boring? I'll show you boring, you little shit," snarled Bocke, pulling out a tranquilizer gun.
The child spun on the spot and lept into the air, dodging the dart with ease.
"What the–?" Bocke sputtered.
That was all he got out, before a purple stockinged leg shot out and clotheslined him across the neck. Bocke was launched clear across the warehouse, the kick sending him slamming into the far concrete wall.
"What – what the hell?! What kind of kid -?" Tsuco gaped, first at his brother, then at the child, who was giggling and clicking its wedged shoes.
There was a shining black fin protruding from the child's back. A dorsal fin.
"BOCKE, GET UP!" Tsuco yelled. "It's a fishman! A FISHMAN KID! GET UP!"
Bocke was not moving.
The child giggled, pressing its hands to its mouth. "Maybe you're not as stupid as you look!" it teased. "I thought your brain was as slow as you are!"
"Damn," hissed Tsuco. He coiled the length of rope into a lasso. "You're going to pay for this you little—" He pulled out a gun with the other hand.
"Ohhh no! I'm so scared!" cried the child, its hands poorly stifling giggles. "You'll have to catch me first though!"
The fishman child was gone again, with inhuman speed, before Bocke had fired at the place he had been standing.
"You big scary grown-ups can't even keep up with a little kid like me?" chided the cloying, irritating voice. Bocke shot in the direction of the voice, but the bullets simply glanced off the floor, inciting more giggles.
"Can't catch meeee!" the child sang, darting manically around Tsuco's legs.
Tsuco, acting on instinct, jutted his own leg out.
There was a yelp as the child tripped over his outstretched leg and crashed to the floor. They tried to scramble to their feet but Tsuco flung the rope about the child and pulled, pinning their arms.
The child jerked and tried to bolt, but Tsuco held the rope fast and yanked. The child toppled, its knees banging the floor with a cry. The wide eyes froze, trembling at the end of the rope and staring up at Tsuco, who was panting heavily.
"You are going to pay, you little brat," Tsuco snarled. "You could have been sold someplace nice, but oh no. You had to make this hard on yourself. Oi! Bocke! Can you get up! I've got it! A fishman kid! We're gonna make bank on this little shit!"
The fishman child stared at him from the end of the rope, shaking, its huge eyes boring up into Tsuco's.
"Please don't hurt me," it whimpered, shaking. "I-I'll come with you. I'm sorry. I was just having fun. I'm s-sorry."
"You done screwing around?" Tsuco hissed.
"Y-yes! I-I'll be good."
Tsuco yanked the rope, dragging the child across the floor. It yelped.
"Stop! Please, that hurts! I-I'll come!"
The child struggled to its feet, arms still pinned.
"L-look, see? Here I come. iKya!"/i
The child brought their feet together and launched themselves, rigid as a dart, at Tsuco.
Tsuco let out a scream as the child's head collided with his stomach…a head that was pronged with two very real, very sharp horns that had just penetrated his abdomen.
He howled, blood spurting from his mouth as he collapsed. The child dislodged its horns from Tsuco's stomach and shook off the rope.
"Oh, I missed," it said. It reached a finger up to the tip of one of its very real horns, rubbed a finger in the blood, brought it to its mouth, and sucked.
The large eyes then turned their attention to Bocke, who was groaning and trying to get onto his feet with an all but completely shattered collarbone.
"Oh, you're still alive!" the child giggled. "What fun! Do you want to chase me again? Or I could chase you! Kyahaha!"
Bocke stared in horror at the child. "Tsuco, forget the kid, let's just get out of here!" he shouted. With a great effort he hauled himself to his feet and made a dash for the door.
"And where do you think you're going?"
A young teenage girl with dark hair in a maid's dress appeared in the doorway. She held a pair of rifles to his chest.
Rifles that were growing from her shoulders.
Rifles that were her arms.
The child stomped its foot.
"Baby 5! Young Master and Jora said I could do this all by myself!" it said irritably.
"You can't let a target get away, Dell," said the girl, her twin rifles locked on Bocke's chest. "You gotta finish the job."
"I was going to! Just watch!"
The child squeezed his eyes shut.
"Girl, get out of the way!" snarled Bocke, drawing a gun of his own.
A bullet to the leg sent him reeling and crumpled next to his partner, who was coughing and clutching his punctured stomach.
"Let the kid finish," the girl said, casually blowing smoke from the barrel of her hand. She turned to the child, whose face was screwed up in concentration. "You got this, Dell?"
The child's mouth gaped. It gave a little hacking noise and tiny teeth suddenly popped out of its gums, falling to the floor. In their place were long, pointed teeth.
"What the –" gasped Bocke.
"Finish them off, Dell!" yelled the girl, still keeping both barrels trained on the cowering slave traders.
Dellinger grinned and opened his eyes. His irises had dilated to twice their normal size.
They were red.
He giggled.
"Baby 5, I could have done it myself!" said Dellinger, pouting slightly as he licked blood off his shoulder. His tongue craned up to his cheek to lick up the blood there.
"Dell, Young Master didn't send me out on solo hits until I was twelve," said Baby 5, holding Dellinger's hand as she led him back up the alley way and into the main district, careful to avoid the main streets. She practically had to drag him out of the building to keep him from licking the bodies clean. "I still have to cover Buffalo's ass all the time. And you took out two targets. You should be very proud."
"I wish could take off my horns so I could lick them, and then put them back on," said Dellinger.
"You're so weird, Dell."
Doflamingo was sitting with Trebol, Diamante, and Jora up at the north pier, waiting for the pair. Jora was smoking and looking anxious.
"I brought your daughter back," announced Baby 5.
"Oh, thank goodness-zamasu!" cried Jora, scooping Dellinger up. "Child, you look like you rolled in a tomato patch! You've scraped your knees, are you alright? Oh goodness, there's a bruise on your elbow."
"Stoopppp!" whined Dellinger, as Jora fussed over him. "I'm fine, look!" he beamed his toothy smile. "I grew my teeth! And the people were super delicious!"
"Yes, he was going to lick the floor clean if I didn't stop him," said Baby 5.
"Germs, child! What have I told you about germs-zamasu?"
"Fufufufu, you worry too much about our little pistol, Jora. Come here, you." Doflamingo took Dellinger from Jora and tossed him high in the air. Dellinger giggled with delight.
"Can we go buy shoes now?"