Missing Piece (2015) Chapter 36, an one piece fanfic

A/N: Hi All. It's been a very long time since I've last posted on this story. I want to thank you all for your continued support throughout the years. I have finally decided to continued this story. However, as it had been over three years since I've last written for this tale, I was a little out of touched with what happened in the story so far and the characters developed. As such, I have rewritten the whole novel and will be reposting the new version of Missing Piece titled Missing Piece (2022). This new version will be updated with the latest information shared in the OP cannon world as well as include new arcs that the Heart Pirates + Charlotte would have gone through that weren't part of this series. Including major developments in the final arc (preview chapter posted below) that would only make sense if you had read the new Missing Piece (2022).

I recommend you please head over to the new version published on my page titled: Missing Piece (2022) for the whole experience. If you wish not to read the updated new version and want to continue with this one. Please note that the below chapter may reference to pieces that are disjointed from the story so far in Missing Piece (2015).

Thanks,

Airii

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, just the OC.

Chapter 36

Running a hand through his hair, the admiral furrowed his brows. The early paper's news had been an issue that he never thought he would have ever seen, much less had to deal with. Luckily it was still early, and they had managed to stop continued production on the issue. Unfortunately, that didn't stop the already published issues being distributed across the Great Blue, the people who already received their copies, and the grapevine rumors that would start. Normally the Marine didn't interfere with the media. Censorship was not something the Marine instilled. Only in rare cases such as this one did they get involved.

On the front cover of the burning newspapers, covering almost all the area above the fold, was a horridly graphic photo of a woman forced onto her knees on a giant scaffold. Fresh and open lacerations decorated the woman's naked back almost like spiderwebs dominating an unused corner. Blood seeped into other cauterizing wounds and dripped down the entirely of the woman's back. The webbing nothing more than the setup to the fresh scorch mark on her back— the Hoof of the Soaring Dragons.

As much as slaves were illegal to the public, it was also a right for the Tenryuubito. Though to broadcast the return and rebranding of a prior slave to the world was just distasteful. No matter how popular the slave may have been in the noble world, to the rest of the world, the masses would call for action. Didn't matter that the slave was a high-profile criminal. One that the marines wanted for their own purposes.

Somewhere on a secluded chip shaped island, a young and fresh recruit to the Marines stumbled, falling through the swinging door. He caught himself before he could fall, swapping his combat boots for indoor slippers, and adding his marine newsboy cap to the hook that held his old and unused doctor's coat. "I'm back!" He called groggily as he shuffled past the kitchen, where his younger brother stood making beef stew, and straight into his room, collapsing on his bed.

"How was being called out by the Admiral, Ani?" The darker brother asked, a giant smile on his face as he wiped his hands on the towel tucked into the tie of his apron. One glance at Urumi had the younger sighing, "Rough day?" The blond male had his forearm pressed against his eyes as his body laid diagonally on the bed, the lower half of his legs, folding over the edge of the bed. "Want to talk about it?" Hiamei offered.

It had close to three months now since his brother suddenly swapped occupation. Hiamei had no idea what came over his older brother when he closed their family clinic to join the armed forces. It had been so uncharacteristic of his brother and so sudden too. Violence was not something that either of them were drawn too nor was the Marine anything either of the two had any previous contact with, so for Urumi to suddenly announce that he was part of the marine forces with a special mission of his own was shocking to say the least.

"Hiamei." Came Urumi's stern voice.

"I know, I know." The younger repeated dully. It had been like this ever since he joined the Marines too. The two of them had grown distant with Urumi slowly becoming a different person with each day. Urumi was never the kind to work out—he hated it with a passion. Yet, here he was fully fit and muscular. "Your special mission is a secret mission." He repeated the overtly familiar line. How many times have he said that line in their conversations in the past three months? "Dinner's ready if you feel like eating. Also, clean up your room. It's a mess." He called, exiting the room.

"Sorry, Hiamei. It's for your own good." Urumi muttered under his breath, once he knew his brother was out of ear shot. Lifting his arm, he glanced around the room. It was a mess, and the old him would be on edge living in such filth but he didn't have the energy to clean up.

Reaching out towards the window with the setting sun, Urumi pulled out a clear marble. Clips of a smiling maiden with long purple tresses played across the marble.

The young lady sitting cross-legged at their low dinner table holding a bowl of white rice out.

The young lady screaming and then trying to calm herself as she worked their vertical transportation system for the third time, claiming that she was still getting used to it.

The young lady practicing her coffee-making skills at their home.

The young lady bedridden with a thermostat in her mouth and a towel on her face. Sick from being out and flatten by heavy rain. Still, even with her high fever, she had a gentle smile on her face as she watched both brothers argue about the proper comfort food to help her. Chicken noodle soup versus porridge.

The young lady flushing madly with wide eyes, wrapped in a towel, hair wet and dripping down her exposed skin. She ran out of the shower, remembering that she had forgot to turn off the stove, only to be caught by both brothers who was in the kitchen turning off said forgotten stove.

The young lady downed in an apron, spinning around with large smiles on her face as she welcomed them home, day after day.

The young lady with a gentle look of confusion on her face and strawberry jam on the corner of her lips. A calloused hand reached out, cupping her cheek softly. Thumb hovering slightly over her open mouth before pressing against the corner of those soft lips and wiping off the jam. Instantly her face grew pink, and steam was erupting from her ears and she pulled away, hiding her face. But not far enough, her profile was still in view. Her face was beet red, and she had tugged on the corner of oversized sweater to wipe at her already cleaned mouth. At the mention of whose sweater she was wearing, her face somehow grew darker, and she scampered off with a high pitch 'Sorry' and 'I'll wash it right away!'

The sweater was his.

Closing his fist around the marble again, Urumi willed the uncomfortable feeling away from heart, no longer wishing to relive in those moments. It wasn't often that he indulged himself in the memories of others, especially memories of others that he had removed from his loved ones, unsanctioned. "Goddamn it, Hiamei!" He cussed under his breath. Why? Why for the love of God did his little brother have to fall in love with someone like her?

Urumi stood before the Marine Chief Petty Officer in a proud salute, though the look in his eyes were anything but that of respect. He was here to deal. Fishing a small white marble out of his pocketing, he placed it the centre of the oak table. "If you un-enroll my brother from the Marine forces, I'll give you this."

Why? Why did she have to force him to take and take those precious memories away form his little brother?

"What's this? A children's game?"

"Something a lot more interesting than a simple children's game. This here contains all information on Bloody Boa from Bloody Boa herself." At the Officer's disbelief, Urumi added before the Officer could speak, "These are her memories."

"I thought you made a deal to give it back."

"I did. But when I take one's memories, I must watch them first in their perspective first. These are my memories of her memories in their raw forms."

And why, why did he have to know exactly what kind of hell will she be going through again?

"Oh, how interesting." The Petty Officer chimed back, picking up the marble to marvel at it. His gaze drifted from the small crystalline ball and towards the user. "Sure, I'll let your brother go and even wipe his records from the logs as long as you join in his place."

"Goddamn it!" He cried, louder this time. His other hand crinkling the hateful article clipping even more.

The article that was tabooed and halted from production.

The article that he got from his meeting with the admiral.

The article about a capture and public re-branding of a slave of the World Nobles.

A repeat of the very same nightmare that he had removed from the woman who lived with them and who his brother fell in love with who now stood as said slave.

Between the folds and creases of the beaten paper was the all too shocking letters, telling of a poor tale befalling a woman who had once shocked the masses and has yet again. RE-BRANDED was what it read this time around and with it a long tale that no one had heard before or should have to hear. For a good reason too. Especially without the explicit permission of the protagonist. Then again, given her 'new-found placement', she did not have much say in the matter.

Just like last time.

A fifteen-years-old Sabo stared wide-eyed at the bloodied figure before him, his eyes unable to leave the malnourished hulk of a shell even if he wanted to. She, who was roughly the same age as him, maybe a few months older, looked so small and fragile compared to him. Such a mirror opposite to him. Him, who was adorned in proper clothes, and her, who wore nothing but rags that threaten to disintegrate with a wind's blow. He, who held meat on his bone and skin as clean as day, and hers couldn't even be described by the word 'malnourished', and whose skin was seen less than then the dirt and stranger's blood that covered her in thick layers.

While he had seen the worst of the world had to offer, she… she has lived it, day in and day out.

She who couldn't be more than a few months older than him.

The blood as red as the droplets splattered across the young girl's face boiled within Sabo and then froze as the young slave lifted her face. Her dead, dark eyes held tears. Tears for those nameless she killed in the sick world where 'entertainment' meant 'survival'. Tears for the high cost of survival she had to pay… just to live another day. Tears for the uncertainty if she would live again tomorrow. Tears for the acts of tomorrow she will be forced to carried out again if she did live.

She who was only a few months older than him. She, who was one of Sabo's first—Sabo's clenched the newspaper tighter in his hand, mouth a firm line as he awaited Dragon's approval. The paper gave way under the male's grip, crunching as the male's hand loosened, repositioned, and gripped with a newfound fever.

"Sabo-kun?" Koala questioned, slightly surprised that the male was up and moving. It was still early morning, and the male was usually only up this early if she had gone to wake him, which was what she was about to do. "Sabo-kun?" Koala repeated, her voice edging towards concern. The young male giving off an unpleasant aura. "Is something the matter?" She followed him, concern slowly edging to annoyance. Catching his face, she frowned. This was a tale too she had grown accustomed to seeing. Skidding before the blond, Koala blocked off his path. "Oi, what are you leaving to Hack and I to take care of this time?" She accused.

"Nothing…" Sabo paused as he pushed passed her. "Nothing yet." He corrected and continued forward.

Pouting at the male's rough shove, she glanced own at the paper that he pushed her away with. He didn't even seem to have realized he had left the paper with her. She skimmed across the headline and her mouth went dry with disgust. Her eyes snapped towards the taller blond, everything suddenly clear. "You can't just go off on your own!" Koala scolded. As much as she understood, there was order for a reason.

"I've already spoken to Dragon." That was new. However… "You didn't tell him about your scouting mission in two days time, did you?" She was right. Running a hand through her hair, the redhead sighed, "Sabo-kun, I get your desire to help her, but…" Koala's voice faltered slightly. The words 'RE-BRANDED' played in her mind. An ex-salve like her, recaptured and enslaved again… the mere thought of that… Koala shook the idea out of her mind. Now was not the time for that. "… there's no clue in the article at all. Who knows how long it would take to find out where this image is from?" They couldn't abandon a mission just for one leaf in the wind. Yet the male didn't falter or stop in his preparations, grabbing equipment after equipment and food supply after food supply. "Sabo-kun! Stop!" She grabbed his arm, forcing him still. "Where would you even begin to look?"

"The Oasis Isles – Soundless Cay."

"Wha—how would you even know to look there? Sure, there are Tenryuubito's who reside there, but there's no pro—"

"Koala." Sabo steadied the older woman and ex-slave. The two of them should be about the same age, Sabo thought himself realizing. "She's there."

"…how are you so certain?" Koala wanted to ask. To declare so specifically and accurately where one person is in the large mass of world was… "Who is she?" Koala asked instead, biting at her lower lip. Emotions flashed across Sabo's face and, yet guilt and abandon remained strongest in his eyes. "You don't know who she is…"

Grimacing, Sabo scratched the back of his head in anguish. To say that he doesn't know who she is was incorrect, but at the same time it wasn't wrong. "That's… you're… uh, I don't know who she is, that part is true…" But he knows who she was. He watched her for days, for months. He just didn't know, and still to this day, does not know her name. "But I do know who she was. I just don't know her name."

Koala watched the male before her. His relationship to the woman in the newspaper clipping still unclear. Just like how it wasn't clear why Sabo so desperately needed to go or why he bore such a look on his face. Sabo helped countless slaves, they all did. It wasn't his fault for the enslavement of any of the slaves. Anyone of them could go save her. There was no need for Sabo to personally go save a slave he didn't know the name to. It wasn't like they had a prior history.

"She was my first." Koala's eyes widened at the soft voice. "We met years ago, when we were both much younger… I don't know how old she was when she started… but she's not that much older than us, truth be told. She's probably around your age now. She was…" Guilt flashed across Sabo's eyes and the corner of his mouth fell again. "Five years ago. I lead the charge. She was my first save."

Koala gaped. "W-what do you mea…" The title of the newspaper article flashed in her mind again. Re-branded. The pieces were slowly connecting.

The guilt on his face. Five years ago.

Rebranded.

The confidence in his voice as he declared the location.

First save.

Five years… I don't know how old she was when she first started…

"She only had five years…?" Only five years of freedom? Koala swallowed thickly, eyes blown wide.

Five years ago, Sabo was fifteen and she was sixteen. Koala had already been freed for five years by then. Koala gulped or tried to. Her throat feeling suddenly unusually tight and her muscles strangely unaccustomed to moving.

"I thought…" Sabo's anguished voice brought Koala back to reality. "I thought we destroyed everything… I didn't think that it would… I-I…." Guilt danced across his face and his grip on the bag tightened. Finding his resolve, Sabo grabbed his robe. "I promise to free her completely this time." The underlying promise clear: I will not fail again.

Stepping up beside him, the revolutionary smoothed her hair before placing on her cap, and then her robe. "What are you doing?" Sabo questioned, quirking a brow.

The girl simply smiled up at him. "I can't have you going off by yourself, can I?"

Sabo's lips stretched across his face. "It won't be pretty." He warned.

Koala bit her lower lip, the burn mark of a slave hidden by a sun-shaped scar throbbed against her back. "I've seen worse." She smiles back with a challenge.

"Let's get going." Sabo announced, hoisting the bag over his shoulder and heading towards one of the rowboats docked by the exiting stream.

Koala watched Sabo's back with a fond smile. "I'm surprised it was in the paper." She started following the male, a small bag thrown over her shoulder as well.

"It's not anymore. Marines are censoring it. Only the early editions had it."

"And are the Marines doing anything about it?" Koala tried, much knowing the answer already. For once though, she wished that it wasn't the case.

"Besides censoring it. No."

If a physical space could ever be changed because of emotions, then the obnoxiously yellow submarine would no longer look like a fish. News of Charlotte's true mission aboard came to light, and many were taking it in different ways. It would have been a unanimous vote against the huntress had it not been for the fact that she didn't go through with it. The trade that was supposed to seal off their favourite Captain's life had happened without him. Law was still with them and not because he had wrestled and fought his way out. No, their Captain was unconscious when his subordinates found him. The trade that should have happened and easily could have happened didn't because the huntress had chosen not to bring him. And since then, they have not heard from her either.

No one knew for certain if she did show up at the rendezvous point later that day or if she simply ran away from there on. No one knew for certain what the consequences were for not carrying out her end of the bargain. They knew it was steep from what they wrestled out of Eagle Eye.

That is until this morning.

An all too familiar figure sat naked, strapped down, and cuffed to the scaffold. Her thin body thinner than what they were used to. Blood splattered across her weak limbs like coarse fabric, and fresh jagged cuts marred over bruised and swollen skin in blotches of green, blue, and grey bruises. The worst of it all was the large and fresh mark stamped in the center of her back, raw and blistering—the Hoof of a Soaring Dragon.

The mark of a slave.

And the title read

Re-branded.

Darkened faces and listless eyes stared back.

Unbelievable, impossible—this—it must be a lie. None of it could be true—this was Charlotte they were talking about. She was skilled, talented, rebellious—she loves freedom! This was all a lie.

It had to be

Right[IK1] ?

Eagle Eye flew across the underground marketplace, landing hard against her identical twin. Law had halved the hidden hut as soon as they arrived, destroying any shadows for Rosetta to play with. The usual market participants ran then, their identities at risk from the shadow veil disappearing. It didn't take much longer for the once stronghold to be completely wiped out with both twins bounded, bloodied and more than willing to talk. A few of the two's limbs were already missing and Law's unpleased expression only showed his non-existing tolerance thinning.

"What happened with Charlotte?" Law asked yet again, knife in his voice. "How did you know she was targeting me?"

"E-Everyone knew." The two started simultaneously, but only Rosetta continued. Eagle Eye apparently only knowing that much. "She always made sure to let wind that she was hunting someone. She liked to mark her preys as hers."

"How did you know she was targeting me?" Law pointed towards Eagle Eye, blade inches from her face. The look on the younger twin's face was enough to show that she wasn't privy to that tidbit of information.

"News spread." Was all she said, at least until the sword was pressed against her throat, drawing blood. "Joker called me!" The pressure on the blade lifted slightly. "He commissioned me to hunt you and warned me that there was another pursuer. And before you ask, it's not like I wanted to hunt you. I'm not much of a hunter, I'm a collector. But when Joker contacts you, there is no saying no, ever."

Both twins looked down bitterly, the smiley face tattooed onto their shoulders clear as day against their pale, pale skins.

"Why not?" It was Shachi who was asking this time. What kind of power does this 'Joker' have that makes it impossible for anyone to say no? He couldn't imagine any amount of money that could force him to turn on his Captain.

"It's not as simple as cash." Eagle Eye winced, "Joker, that bastard, is not beneath breaking any code or using any underhanded method to get what he wants. I don't know what it was that he had on Bloody Boa to make her take on the job, but I do know, whatever it is, it was not something that she could simply refuse. So, the fact that you are here, and she is not says a lot." The early renditions of today's papers ran in their minds. "I'm surprised she refused in the end. She had the perfect opportunity too."

"I'm not." Rosetta announced only to wished she hadn't moments after. She attracted all of Law's attention and as much as she would love to have it under other circumstances. This currently wasn't a circumstance that she fancied. "When she ordered the snails, she could have asked for yours to leak to Joker. It would be the fastest way to get a rendezvous in. But she didn't. Even got mad that I did it anyway. It was almost as if she was trying to buy time to figure something out." Rosetta lowered her lashes, glancing up at the mysterious male before her. "Can I ask you a question, Mr. Law?"

Law only looked at her.

"What kind of relationship do you have with Bloody Boa for her to betray Joker?"

Kicking open the door, Hiamei shouted into the room, "Coming in! Do you have your laundry ready?" Glancing over the half-full laundry basket, Hiamei frowned at the unruly mess. "I told you to clean up your room." He sighed, "At least make it easier for me to tell which clothes need washing and which ones don—" Hiamei's eyes dropped towards last week's folded pile, completely untouched and glared silently at his older brother. "You're lucky you're family." He grumbled to himself before continuing his earlier actions of collecting fallen and used clothes using his noise to guess which were used and which were clean.

He yanked hard on a particular piece of clothing that had somehow gotten lodge between the bedframe and wall. Grinning, when it finally came lose and then quickly dreading as the world tipped back from his excessive force. "What's this?" He questioned, picking up a small marble that tumbled out with him. "Did this fall out too?" He picked up along with the slightly crumple newspaper clipping. "Oi, you need to do better to keep your important documents secret, Ani. Isn't your mission supposed to be top secret?" He grimaced at the graphic image. Poor woman. Unable to connect, he was glad it wasn't anyone he knew or was close to. Placing the clipping on the side table, he picked up the laundry basket instead. "What's with this marble though? A children's game?" He muttered, holding up the marble towards the light as he exited the room. The marble shone.

Thump.

Screech.

Crash.

Cussing while nursing his newfound bump from rushing back into his brother's room, Hiamei pulled himself up against the night table, his hand clutching the article clipping. Shakily, he brought the paper into focus, hoping with all his might that he might be wrong.

That the person strapped against the wooden scaffold was someone else.

That the wounds that would scar weren't on her.

Yet…

His face paled.

It was.

"Charlotte…" He breathed.

Sunken russet eyes stared out emptily, darken grey rings etched deep underneath the lightless eyes. The room was dark and silent—it was the middle of the night. He blinked, letting his tired eyes close once, and opening them once again when sleep failed to take him. Listless eyes fell onto the flimsy paper with the words 'Sock Monster' scribbled cross it and he sighed.

He came across it when laundry duty was reassigned to him after Charlotte left. He had taken it from the laundry machine it was attached to when he first started washing, to throw it out. Somehow, it had found its way to his room. Groaning, the technician forced himself up, walking past the 'Sock Monster' label and out of the room. It wasn't like he was going to fall asleep anyway. He hasn't been able to.

It had been three days since they found out.

"Can't sleep?"

The white-haired male glanced around finding equally tired eyes and matching dark rings. He offered a wry smile, "Seems like I'm not the only one." Five others sat around the dimly lit galley, heads hanging low and exhaustion clear in their features, yet sleep failed to take them. "What's keeping you up?"

He grimaced. Was that even a necessary question? "Nightmares, you?"

"Regret." Rike frowned, blue now almost-black eyes found themselves staring at bandages. He let his finger rub against the plastic wrapper absentmindedly, almost unaware of the fact that they were there. "We were there." His voice trembled, fingers embedding into flesh as he tried to hold himself still. "We could have stopped her." Helped her. He rubbed his tired eyes, snapping them open immediately. The image of her condition still far too fresh.

Rike blinked, the band-aids slowly coming into recognition. He shoved them into his pocket, scolding himself. How many times had he been doing this? Preparing an extra set of band-aids for some woman who no longer come in.

"Could we?"

Heads snapped towards the two technicians in the middle of the room, Penguin still trying to soothe the large bear. Shachi stared back at them, his shades resting in his hands instead of covering the dark lines under his own eyes.

"She never told us anything!" Bitter clear in his voice and the table whined under his grip. "Just like before with Aceteon. She didn't tell us jack! You saw her secret room! This wasn't something that came up last second; she's been struggling over it for who knows how long!"

In their search for her, they had stumbled upon the storage closet she kept. The state of the room was beyond anything they've seen. It rivaled Law's messy study whenever he gets too into research. Files upon files were spread open about Law, about Joker and what connection they may have. Her thoughts bare, clear in the way the room was thrashed. Belongings through around, notes and thoughts scribbled everywhere, thread drawing potential connections. Charlotte struggled with the ordeal, silently and alone. It was then that they realized that Charlotte had been struggling with the decision for some time—and they haven't even noticed.

"She had plenty of time to tell and come clean instead of waiting for the last moment on whether to sell our captain out or not! Bepo smells it all—her indecision, her confliction!"

Pairs of far too tired eyes landed on the large bear. His usually white fur was now matted and grey, even black at some areas, and his dark beady eyes head none of the light it used to have. Bepo had it worst. Shachi and Penguin often found the bear curled up in the storage closet. No one had been in there since she left besides Bepo, and he wouldn't let anyone in, especially to clean it. The locker was left in the same destroyed state Charlotte had left it in before she… disappeared.

"We didn't ask either." Rike retorted, eyes flickering towards the other. "The deal was to hand over our captain. It wasn't something that you could easily come out and say."

Anger flashed through the other's eyes. "But—"

"Would we have understood her dilemma?" It's not like they knew what was at stake for her at the trade.

"If she talked, I'm sure we would…"

Cole's lips twitched. "Would we really?" He swallowed thickly, a twisted look on his face. He kicked the ground, cursing the crew for not leaving even a pebble for him to toy with. "The damn witch girl was a contracted hunter—we all knew that—it's how we met. While the rest of us decided one for another to join. We're loyal to the bitter end—"

—"Charlotte joined too!" Bepo shouted, jolted up from his spot, paws clenched into fists.

"Shut up, Bepo!" Cole snapped back, dark eyes glaring. "I know that." He cursed, running a hand through his hair. How did it become like this? Why was he standing up for the damn witch when all he did was mock her day in and day out? She was the annoying, clueless, idiot who almost got them killed again and again. The blasted—he clenched his jaw, the stupid scribbling hanging on his wall echoing in his mind. "But that's it! We're loyal and we have nothing to lose—could we really, truly say that we would understand her dilemma?"

None of them were past slaves. Cole knew to a degree what Charlotte's life as a slave was from his conversation with Baako. One that he had yet to share with anyone simply because it was not news that should be shared. At least not on his accord. But what was the likelihood that she'd end up in the same role a slave? Cole tried reaching out to Jean Bart several times to pose the question, but each time he was unable to bring himself to actually ask the man. Partly because he didn't want to surface those bad memories, but mostly because what if the truth was that much worse?

Shachi looked away and the galley fell silent once more.

Cole felt sick. He wasn't the only one. Anguish filled the room like fog.

They all wanted to go save her. Their comrade

Their friend.

But Law had said no.

If someone had told him that the silence of his own study would get to him, he would have probably disagreed. Yet, here he was strangely bothered by the lack of quiet breaths from when Charlotte would fall asleep in her strange position across his loveseat. Same with whenever he found his coffee mug empty. It was never empty when she was around.

Law cringed, glancing at the black liquid before him. Had it really been that long since he made his own coffee that he even forgot how he likes to take it?

"Here you go. Black just like you like it." Even when she lost her memory, she still knew how he likes to take his coffee.

Prying his eyes from the folded quilt that she used to drape over him when she found him asleep at the desk, Law glowered at his room and their shared memories.

He took a long sip at his tasteless coffee.

Charlotte was hired as an extension of Joker to capture him.

Charlotte was part of Doflamingo's arms.

Law's chest clench and he cussed silently.

Placing down his mug, Law picked up the files from he's secretly shambled from Charlotte's secret storage room. Information on Doflamingo's past, his family relations both past and present, and his current reach all at his fingertips. Including a clipping of Vergo's promotion. A separate label scribbled on it: 'Vergo, extension of Joker, and Law's potential target (?). Stationed at same research base Law is set on.' Scrap pieces of paper with her hypothesizes and potential plans that aided in Law's favour also attached. He frowned as he read them. Plans that actually could work with what he wanted. Law clamp a hand over his tired eyes. Charlotte's early theory on his revenge plan wasn't completely off.

But, why did it had to be Doflamingo? Why couldn't it be anyone but that fluffy pink bastard?

[IK1]…

"What happened with Charlotte?" Law asked yet again, knife in his voice. "How did you know she was targeting me?"

"News spread." Was all the girl said, at least until the sword was pressed against her throat, drawing blood. "Joker called me!" The pressure on the blade lifted slightly. "He commissioned me to hunt you and warned me that there was another pursuer. And before you ask, it's not like I wanted to hunt you. I'm not much of a hunter, I'm a collector. But when Joker contacts you, there is no saying no, ever."

Both twins looked down bitterly, the smiley face tattooed onto their shoulders clear as day against their pale, pale skins.

"Are you saying she's dead?"

"I'm not, but I wouldn't be surprised if she is. Whatever it was, it had to be something dear enough to her that was equal to exchanging you over even after getting to know you personally." The redhead glanced away, mumbling, "I'm surprised she refused in the end. She had the perfect opportunity too."

"I'm not." Rosetta announced only to wished she hadn't moments after. She had just attracted all of Law's attention and as much as she would love to have it under other circumstances. This currently wasn't a circumstance that she fancied. "When she ordered the snails, she could have ask for a edit to have yours leak to Joker. It would be the fastest way to get a rendezvous in. But she didn't. Even got mad that I did it anyway. It was almost as if she was trying to buy time to figure something out." Rosetta lowered her lashes, glancing up at the mysterious male before her. "Can I ask you a question, Mr. Law?"

Law only looked at her.

"What kind of relationship do you have with Bloody Boa for her to betray Joker?"