Justice

by Black' Victor Cachat

Dealing with villains is all part of being a superhero, the Justice League knows this. So how do they handle the new supervillain gang that can't decide whether they're good or evil? And said gang, the Straw Hat Pirates, are just desperate to get home to fulfil their dreams, whatever it takes. And they have no problems with fighting more believers in 'Justice' along the way

6. Enter the Villains

I do not own either One Piece or Justice League Unlimited.

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Beta read by the wonderful rose7anne101 and MasterQwertster. Make sure to check out their stories!

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Justice

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Chapter 6: Enter the Villains!

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Previously:

After working together with members of the Straw Hats to stop a genocidal plague, the Justice League interrogates one of the supervillains involved, who reveals that the Straw Hats have been actively recruiting other criminals.

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A few weeks after the Straw Hats first arrived

If they had been run-of-the-mill pirates, they would never have been able to pull off getting home—especially not discretely. Of course, if they were your average pirates, they would have all been dead years ago.

Nico Robin had been forced to grow up in the criminal underworld back home, rising to be the right-hand of one of the world's most powerful crime syndicates, whose duties included counter-intelligence as she kept both Alabasta's monarchy, and the World Government from finding the truth. Later she had studied under Dragon 'the Revolutionary' himself, and the Straw Hats all just expected that she knew even more than that.

Franky was the former mafia boss of his hometown.

Nami was a talented actress and thief.

Usopp, Sanji, Jinbe were all both brilliant and adaptive, and the rest of crew started looking into what they could contribute; except Zoro, who concluded that at some point they would need to fight somebody, and until then he just felt like having a nap and training.

As for Luffy . . . the crew found ways to keep him too occupied to 'help.' TV was magnificent in that regard. Usopp was also happy to distract by bragging about his vast experiences from leading his fleet of eight thousand men before ever meeting the crew.

The problem was straightforward: they were all trapped in an alien world, specifically one without the One Piece, and no idea how they had gotten there or how to get back.

Their usual solution, finding someone who knew something, followed by doing whatever it took to get the necessary co-operation, was hindered by the fact that no-one here had a clue how to help them. This was compounded by the fact they all agreed their intentions should remain a secret, to avoid unwanted contact between both worlds. 'Unwanted' meaning 'not on their terms.'

Consequently, they had to figure out how to do it themselves.

Unfortunately, it was unavoidable that they would need help to pull this off. Even worse, this required doing something previously considered inconceivable: actually hiring people to do the work.

!JUSTICE!

Warily, the feline figure scouted around the dark alley. To the world at large she was known as Cheetah, a dangerous super-villainous. No one, not even herself, referred to her as Dr. Barbara Minerva anymore. The name she had used when she had been fully human.

An ambitious research scientist exploring the possibilities of grafting animal characteristics onto humans, her frustration at insufficient funding had forced her to use herself as a test subject, unintentionally transforming herself into a human-cheetah hybrid. Now she found herself skulking around at night in the shadows, a freak, committing various crime to raise funds; be it stealing where she could, or being hired to do various jobs, no matter how dirty the deed.

For tonight, she had been contacted by individuals who, predictably, wished to remain anonymous, yet were willing to meet her face-to-face. Obviously, she would have to be on guard for whatever mischief they had in mind, hence why she was arriving early to scout out the area, and see what she could learn when they arrived. Although the crude manner in which they went about getting a hold of me, shows they're rank amateurs at this.

There was a system for navigating through the criminal underworld, separating those with powers, abilities, public aliases, etcetera, from the normal crooks and riffraff, and it was clear that whoever these newbies were, they were rather clumsy at the process. Fortunately, it was equally evident they money to spend, despite how much had been wasted on false-starts making contact with her. Which means I have to be even more careful of course. I don't know why they want me in particular.

"What're you doing?"

Spinning around like lightning, the snarling cat woman threw herself claws first at the man who had come up behind her, catching the briefest glance of his surprise—

She was flat on her back, winded yet unhurt, staring up at her stalker in the straw hat who still appeared confused.

She was not fooled.

Every hair was standing up on end, her feline instincts screaming at her to show them her belly and throat, and to be as submissive as possible.

Dominance.

Overwhelming dominance and power.

For the briefest of moments this seemingly blank-faced boy radiated such an intense inner strength that it absolutely terrified her. It had not been the 'human' in her that saw it, but the 'animal' that knew she dared not make him angry. Dared not draw attention to herself lest she be consumed whole.

Then he stuffed his pinky up his nose to pick at it, while tilting his head in bewilderment. "Something wrong?"

Aaaaaand there that feeling went. Out the door and wondering why it had even been here in the first place. Now he just seemed like an average idiot.

"Were you planning to sneak up on us?" a tall woman in her late twenties or early thirties cheerfully asked as she stepped forward, and again Cheetah felt a twitch of warning. "To answer your question, yes we are the ones who are to meet you, and we're glad you came early."

"Allow me, mademoiselle," a calm, kind voice asked, and a blond haired man stepped forward, offering her a hand up. While his solely visible eye smoldered with attraction that was disturbing, it was also weirdly familiar. It's like he's treating me like a normal woman, and not like one of those furry perverts. Just regular perversion.

A little shakily, she ignored her initial impulse to lash out, and instead let herself be helped up while taking in the whole motely group, the majority of whom appeared as strange and exotic as her. That one smells of machinery, and is that a blue alien? A skeleton? Whatever they are, no wonder they wanted to meet in these back alleys; it's got to be even harder for them to lay low. Regaining her mental balance a little, she gruffly asked, "So, what do you want?"

A red-haired young woman answered. "We need to acquire advanced scientific information and knowledge, mostly in the realm of physics. You're both a skilled thief to help us acquire stuff for us, and while specializing in biology and bioengineering, supposedly have contacts with other scientists. Particularly the unscrupulous kind."

"How much're you offering?" Cheetah inquired, her interest piqued. She had a chance to make a lot of easy money tonight.

The apparent negotiator snorted. "No, we're not starting by telling you that, do you think we're amateurs?"

"Do you like being a cat-lady?"

Everyone turned to the one with the straw hat at the non sequitur.

"What do you mean, Luffy?" asked a furry creature that Cheetah thought smelled tasty, even as her same feral side warned her it was scarily unnatural. An herbivore that preyed upon carnivores . . .

"I dunno," the one apparently named Luffy said, seemingly unconcerned about his own ignorance. "She just seems less at ease like this."

"You mean since I turned myself into a freak?" Cheetah blandly asked, wanting to observe how they would react.

They all looked at her in confusion now, as if they were perfectly used to conversing with human-animal hybrids. . . . Which given their own little furball was a distinct possibility, while raising the question of where he came from.

"What if we offered you help in curing yourself then?" the brunette woman offered. "Presumably your crimes then are to support yourself, and to try and find a way to revert back to your old self. We can help you with that."

Despite herself, Cheetah's tail flicked in anticipation, even as she reminded herself it was probably a scam. You mean keep me compliant and grateful with scraps that promise eventual salvation? It was too good to be true after all. . . . As sincere as they seemed to be.

"In addition to this assistance, we're also offering you a retainer fee," declared the blue alien.

She pretended to think about it, and then quoted a sum. The man with metal gloves or metal hands, and blue hair, just grinned and made a counter offer, which she knew was perfectly reasonable. Guess they've done more homework than I thought.

"We could use some extra help with our own jobs getting cash and equipment, for which you would be compensated" the blonde man added genially.

Cheetah hesitated.

On one hand after all, these people were sending off warning bells she had never even known existed. Except they're also practically offering to hand me what I want on a silver platter. Besides I can always slit their throats if necessary . . .

However, deep down she knew she was just trying to fool herself. The way her instincts had been raving, she knew would never have the chance to do so. Still, like they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained . . .

"If you work for us," the straw hat guy said again, and now Cheetah realized how the rest of them were circled around him as if he were in charge, "you're also under our protection."

This was apparently off-script.

With most of the older members of the strange group, something passed between them. There was not a word, nor the slightest twitch of a muscle, yet somehow they seemed to come to attention, becoming far more lethal. The younger ones however . . .

"What!?" shrieked the teen with the long nose. "Why're we going that far for her!? Why!? We don't need to get pulled into supervillains or superheroes!"

Deciding that offer was pretty vague, Cheetah held up a paw to clarify. "Sorry, what do you mean by protection, exactly?"

"If you need money we'll give you a special loan," promised the redhead, her eyes all but flashing with dollar signs.

"Uhm . . ."

"You'll get medical help too," said the little furry creature who continued to weirdly shift between tasty prey and terrifying not-prey to Cheetah's senses, and everyone else seemed to agree with that.

"You won't go hungry," the man in the black suit gravely said, acting purely professional.

"Restful music to soothe away the sorrows of the day~!" crooned the skeleton having pulled out a guitar from . . . under his coat and inside his ribcage? How'd that even fit in there!?

Swelling up his chest, the long-nose complainer than boasted, "And no one would dare hurt you if you were associated with me, the dreaded Usopp!"

"If anyone hurts you," all levity died, and even the air dared not whisper as Cheetah's eyes snapped back to this gang's leader. There was something in his tone, a conviction that was as unnerving as it was awe-inspiring. In a way he appeared to be the youngest and dullest looking of the group, if not for how those glimpses of power earlier and right now made her know he was something . . . more. "Then we make them pay, so that they never do that again, and no one else will want to," he finished.

"It'd be a matter of honour," adds in someone who had not spoken up yet. Aside for his green hair, he appeared fairly normal as he lounged against a wall. Then he tilted his head to reveal one eye scarred shut, and he barred his teeth into a grin that spoke of a bloodthirsty animal. An apex predator unafraid to assert his position when necessary.

Gulping, Cheetah nodded, weirdly both reassured and also more than a little afraid.

I guess they might have the muscle to pull this off after all. But what exactly's the catch here?

"Do you get a cut of my profits for any jobs I do for you?"

At this the redhead stepped forward. "Twenty-five percent—"

"Nami!" whined the man with the hat.

With a resigned sigh, the woman corrected herself. "Ten percent, and only if the job you carry out is done with fellow members of our organization or our resources. And we still pay you regularly."

"Just don't get into debt, or you'll never pay it off," the green-haired man groused, before being hit on the head by Nami, who seemed to be handling financing. The sudden shift in dynamics as he failed to retaliate against her was only enhanced they mystery they all were. Trying to define them, put a label on their actions . . . they were just too bewildering. Too complex.

There's only one way to be sure, Cheetah knew. "What if I say no?"

She tensed up, waiting for the inevitable threat that would prove who they were. Except none of them so much as twitched.

Luffy merely went back to picking his nose and flicking away a booger, barely missing the man in the black suit who scowled, yet cut himself off from saying anything as his boss spoke up again. "Then you go home, and we go back to where we're staying, and then go and find someone else." Then he flashed his teeth in a smile that seemed to be the rising sun. "But you'll miss out on some awesome stuff if you do!"

There might have been a threat in that statement, nevertheless she also recognized that they could indeed make this same excellent offer to someone else, so it was best to get in while the going was good. Despite this however, she still had a lengthily list of questions about them.

Trying to regain her footing, she tried one last thing to try and get a sense of what they were up to. "So what is this," she gestured at them all, "some sort of plan for world domination?"

"Why'd I want to do something as stupid as that?" the young spokesman blankly asked her.

Cheetah's mind stalled at the question, trying to think of an answer. Is he really a super-villain? "Wealth, power, fame, whatever," she managed.

"But if I ruled the world—"

'I,' he used 'I,' so he really is the one in charge?

"—then I'd be the one responsible for it. Ruling, keeping things going, why'd I want to do that?" Then his face stretched into an honest, carefree smile that sent a tingle throughout her. "I just want to be free!"

!JUSTICE!

"Why we here?" moaned the living corpse, Solomon Grundy.

"So you can carry stuff!" snapped Livewire, only for Poison Ivy to place a calming hand on her partner's shoulders, before turning to Grundy. While immune to her powers, like any man he was still vulnerable to a pretty lady putting a hand to her hip and looking at him with interest and adoration. Typical, even dead, men were incapable of using their brain to think. Mustering her patience as she repeated herself for the umpteenth time, Poison Ivy put on her sultry tone. "Livewire needs this generator, and once we've got it, we'll pay you for helping us." Probably. Maybe.

"Okay!" grinned Grundy, and stepped forward to yank the door off of the building, while Livewire, formerly the popular 'shock jock' Leslie Willis, shook her head in disgust. She had once been an immensely successful, and controversial, radio star, whose shows had emphasized ridiculing Superman, denouncing him as nothing but 'the world's strongest con-man.' Then tragedy struck in the form of a lightning bolt at a concert of hers, with Superman present —and doing nothing to help her. Miraculously, she survived, if also suffering a host of changes, including turning blue. More importantly, she had been bestowed the power to generate and manipulate electricity. Knowing Superman was responsible for what had happened to her, she had vowed to kill him, turning to regular crime in the process. "Almost as bad as the clown," Livewire muttered.

The woman once known as Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley frowned at this reference to her other, and far more preferred, partner: Harley Quinn. Together, the two ladies were capable of some impressive stuff, despite how ditzy she admitted Harley could be. Unfortunately, the woman in question was currently with the Joker, and however loathsome the Clown Prince might be, and abusive, Ivy tried to respect her friend's wishes.

Livewire was just a 'business associate' for Ivy, albeit a powerful and useful one, given her mastery of electricity. Even better, they had fun together, and could be trusted to make the rational decision of valuing future pay-offs over what could be gained by immediate betrayal.

This latest, temporary partnership would last long enough for them to get a nice profit, and then they would probably part ways with equal shares.

The blue woman's need to recharge herself was one of her main weaknesses however, leading to the decision to rob an experimental, prototype generator for her to use. Given the bulk of the machine, and how dangerous it was (the words 'experimental prototype' being a big hint), Ivy was unwilling to risk having her precious plants carry it out. Hence the need for some muscle, which is what Grundy was here to provide. The walking corpse was not Ivy's first choice, as he was immune to her pheromones, except Livewire was the one to find him, and her electricity was strong enough to subdue him if necessary. Besides, his idiocy more than compensated for being unable to turn him into a mindless drone like Ivy did to most men.

The laboratory's security guards wisely fled rather than engage the three supervillains as they quickly tore their way through. Livewire's power had already fried any way for them to call for help.

"This it?" wondered the massive, pale form of Grundy asked, as he looked up at the even larger metal contraption, with ominous looking cables sticking out of it.

"Congratulations," Livewire told him, her sarcasm flying over his head.

Just before he could begin to tear the generator out of place, someone yelled from behind,

"Hey! That's ours!"

Spinning around, they saw nine figures behind them, some wielding possessive stares. "We stole that first!" snapped the red headed woman.

"We're the ones who're actually in the room, idiots!" snapped Livewire. "It's ours!" With that she launched a lightning bolt at them, which the newcomers dodged with disturbing ease.

"We'll see about that! I need to strip it for those SUPER rare parts!" boomed a muscular man with . . . blue hair shaped like a lion's head, complete with stylized jaws, open as if it were roaring?

Great, another future Arkham Asylum inmate, Poison Ivy wearily thought, before releasing her pheromones against the men.

What happened next however was puzzling.

The green-haired man with swords immediately leapt into the air and out of the way as if he could detect her pheromones, drawing two swords. The one with the straw hat also moved out of the way. The big blue one was unfazed, as were the skeleton and furry creature, and the guy with the criminally bad hairstyle. Maybe they're too different from normal humans for it to work? Ivy worried.

Roaring, Grundy charged forward, rearing back a massive fist, before stumbling backwards.

Suddenly in front of him was the straw hat kid with all his teeth grinning, staring back at Grundy while cracking his knuckles. Impressive, she acknowledged with a touch of concern. They say Grundy can go toe to toe with Superman. Except now the brat's close enough.

"Oh, that wasn't very nice," purred Ivy. "Don't you want to be friends with us?"

!JUSTICE!

Inside Luffy's mind

"Hey there, big guy, want a wild night?" ask the sultry voiced, curved figure of Ivy's pheromones, meant to turn any male into her slave.

"Snnr snnrr snnnoorre" Luffy's libido answered as it turned over in its sleep with its straw hat on its head, dreaming of thick, juicy meat. Literal meat. Served at the table by Sanji for the whole crew to eat.

!JUSTICE!

"Sorry, but no," he apologized, with apparently genuine regret. "We really need this generator. Probably. Franky thinks it might be useful."

"What are you?" Ivy gasped, taking a fearful step back.

"Your dutiful servant, milady!"

Spinning around, Ivy found the last of the men who had arrived, kneeled before her, staring up at her with lust and worship.

"Well then," she rallied, "I—AAAAARGH!"

Lightning coursed through her body, before a concussive force of air smashed her into the very generator both sides were there to collect.

Pure chance kept Poison Ivy from being shocked and literally frying on it, but the large machine was still knocked loose from its stand, hanging at an angle from thick electric cables.

Blearily, she saw the redhead maneuvering a staff around, and felt a breeze. She's blowing my pheromones away! The blonde haired man appeared to have also been shocked, now only staring at Poison Ivy with disgusting lust.

Trying to get up, Ivy found human hands forming out of the ground to restrain her, and the redhead's staff extended itself like a spear, so that the tip was resting against her pale green throat.

"If you ever do that to Sanji again," hissed the furious wielder, "you'll wish to be sent back to prison!"

Fearfully, Ivy rapidly nodded.

"Oh Nami-swan! You do love me!"

"Shut up!" the redhead snapped, as if automatically.

A scream of frustration drew her eyes, and saw that Livewire was throwing bolt after bolt at the swordsman, who was merely smirking as he casually dodged each and every one. He flicked a sword at the electric woman, who instinctively took her energy form.

"Gaah!" she cried, holding a bloody cheek.

"Surrender," the man sneered. "You can't hurt me, but I can reach you!"

"B-but I'm pure electricity, h-how do that!?"

He just bore her down with his single eye.

"Screw this!" With a flash, Livewire became electricity again, and jumped into a nearby light fixture, and within moments had fled as fast as lightning.

"Oof!" Grundy moaned, before picking himself up.

His opponent, despite originally being a positive shrimp before him, was grinning and on the offensive, his fists having swelled to gigantean proportions, easily the size of Grundy himself, who was feeling those punches and hard. The next blow making the zombie land beside Ivy . . . and finish tipping over the generator.

*CRASH*

They all dully stared at the totally busted, formerly hyper-advanced prototype.

"Right," the woman holding Poison Ivy prisoner –Namiswan or something— sighed while shaking her head, and declared. "That was a bust. You doing alright, Sanji?" she asked, apparently having just realized she had actually struck him with some electrical attack of her own.

"Yes, Nami-swan!" crooned the blonde.

"Idiot!" snapped the swordsman. "You should've sensed that! Have you no self-preservation!?"

Sanji was clearly uncomfortable, awkwardly admitted, "It didn't feel like a threat to me."

The rest seemed to sag in resignation at that.

"Is it safe to come out now?"

"Yes, Usopp," Nami called back. With that, their relieved friend came forward. Unlike most of the others, he had taken the time to memorize the various public powerhouses around, particularly those who might be a threat to the crew. It was unclear if Ivy could control any plants freely, or only those she had altered, so it was best not to take chances given the, aheh, nature of his own weaponry.

I should probably diversify a bit while I'm here, Usopp decided.

"So what now?" Ivy hesitantly asked.

"Now? You dare ask that after what you've done!" snarled the woman above her, the apparent leader. "You went and broke the generator we were both after, you clumsy fool!"

"Uhm," Ivy began, before glancing at the one with the straw hat, the guy named Usopp, and the little furry guy, who were furiously gesturing at her. As she interpreted them, they were trying to convey that Poison Ivy should not disagree with the supposed chain of events. Not if their horrified faces were anything to go by . . . or running their index fingers over their throats.

"So what," she managed instead, "you want cash to make up for it? Sorry," she patted her skin tight, low-cut dress, "I don't have my wallet on me."

"No," grinned the woman, and now the rogues scientist felt a tingle of genuine fear. "You and the big guy are going to work for us until you've both paid off your debts!"

Later both Grundy and Poison Ivy found themselves passing up on multiple opportunities to escape their supposed indentured servitude. After all, while it had been graphically described what would happen if Poison Ivy tried to influence their chef again, even without using her powers, both of them agreed his food was far too good to miss!

At some point they were receiving pay cheques as well.

Wisely, they said nothing about them to Nami.

!JUSTICE!

About a month before the closure of Cherry Blossom Medical

"We've got some more potential recruits today," Nami said, handing over the files Robin had assembled. "They've killed some people of course, yet nothing indiscriminate."

The others nodded, while Franky and Jinbe each picking up a profile to read. Since these people were even being considered, there would be nothing truly concerning of course. Still, best to be prepared.

"I'll talk to them after lunch," Luffy said, before stuff himself with more food.

Zoro was dozing, and Sanji was sulking.

"Hey, cheer up Sanji!" Luffy called out. "It's not like it's the end of the world. I mean, it's just that you aren't allowed to be part of the decision making process."

"But why not!?" the chef shrieked in indignation.

"You know perfectly well why," Zoro snapped as he popped open his eye. "You whine and sob every time we say a female villain can't join us, while moaning about how hot they look in those outfits!"

Blithely Nami ignored the ensuing fight as she sipped a new brand of tea Sanji had bought.

!JUSTICE!

Luffy hummed and hawed as he looked back and forth between Claire Selton, better known as Volcana, and Matt Hagen a.k.a. Clayface, both of them struggling to maintain their composure under his blank eyed stare.

Cheetah was also feeling a bit nervous, having gone through this process several times, only for her new boss to dismiss every candidates she had brought in.

Copperhead who was good for sneaking into places, rejected.

The Key, who could unlock anything, shown the door.

Deadshot, an experienced mercenary of considerable skill and dedication, never even got to the interview.

Moreover, whenever Luffy made his final decision after he had looked them over and talked to them, he never gave a reason why.

For these newest two, the sultry Volcana was a victim of government experimentation who had turned to crime to survive, which Cheetah suspected might suit the man's own contempt for the system.

Like Cheetah herself, Clayface had been transformed into a monster and then ostracized from society, driven deeper and deeper into crime. Now also no longer treated as a Human, she privately thought she could try researching a cure for him as well, given how she was being helped in turn.

Already the Straw Hats had provided her with a new lab, and had taken the time to help her steal some valuable biological samples to help her research.

For the first time in years, she felt she was making genuine progress towards returning to normal again.

"Alright," Luffy eventually said to the applying supervillains. "I've got one last question for you guys."

It was the first thing he had said the whole time.

"What are your Dreams?" The capital letter was clearly heard.

The three super-villains started in surprise. Despite this unorthodox approach, Clayface answered easily enough. "To be Human again, and become an actor again! Whatever it takes!"

Smirking, Volcana said, "Well, to be rich of course."

"That's lame."

She blinked in surprise at the calm rudeness of the man before her, then lit her hand on fire in silent threat.

Unfazed, Luffy cocked his head. "And that's not the truth either. So what is your Dream? If it's what you want, you should be proud to say it."

Flinching, Volcana stared into the depths of his eyes, and felt herself being judged by . . . something. Someone I mean, she corrected herself. This was just another person, no matter his powers. Right?

This could be my biggest gig yet, she reminded herself. And if they laugh, I'll roast them. She shrugged her shoulders in attempt to appear as if it were nothing, then ruined it by how she had to clear her throat.

Unwanted memories of her time imprisoned by Superman on a deserted island rose up in her. It had been warm and beautiful, away from the government men who would try to use or kill her again, with the surrounding ocean replacing prison walls she would have otherwise escaped by burning her way free. Except . . . for all her flirting with the Man of Steel, it had still been a prison. Solitary confinement, aside from whenever her warden dropped by with supplies, and sometimes he was too occupied with crises to come by for days or even weeks. She had been on half-rations more than a few times before he could break away from whatever emergency was happening, and always only briefly.

Her only, sporadic, company, a man of the law, while she remained a criminal. Oh, Superman had always been nice, friendly, infinitely patient, and when he could afford the time to talk to her, he tried to rehabilitate her. Eventually though a boat had stumbled by, and she got aboard with some smooth talking (she knew it was best if Big Blue did not show up while she was surrounded by burnt corpses because things escalated), and made her way back to civilization.

Civilization . . . where she could never have a regular job without fear of being abducted in the middle of the night by 'rogue' government spooks. Where her only safety while in prison would be under the watchful eye of either 'heroes,' or officials who were actually honest. So instead she had made her only real choice: to be free on her own, using her powers as she desired. Wanted, and dangerous. To be the predator, not the prey.

"What I want," Volcana finally said, fire still lit, "is a fresh start, where no one can control me, imprison me, or judge me because of my abilities, or my past from when I was too powerless to control my own destiny."

No one laughed.

". . . Same here," Clayface quietly concurred.

She ignored him, hand still raised to scorch the interviewer if he did not choose his following words with great care.

Unfazed by his imminent death, the apparent man in charge tapped his chin in obvious thought, before giving a serious yet kind smile. "I'm sorry for what I said. He's right, that's a great Dream! I totally agree with you!" A megawatt smile appeared. "It's similar to my Dream too!"

He stood up, and as he did so, his clothing shifted enough to reveal his bare chest and what Volcana recognized as a massive burn scar right over his heart.

"Glad to have you!" Both his hands shot out to grab one of hers and Clayface's, and shook them in welcome, shocking them both that he could both impossibly hold onto the former actor's muddy body without the villain mentally making it more solid, and Volcana's without frying his own hand.

Continuing to beam, Luffy turned around and called out, "Sanji! Bring food!"

!JUSTICE!

"Won't you come in?"

The instant where Talon Karrde froze was so brief it was almost invisible, but he quickly rallied himself, and continued into his own private office.

"How could I say no to such a lovely woman, who doubtless has a fine proposition for me," he genially asked.

Nico Robin merely graced him with an enigmatic smile as the man sat down behind his desk, lounging back into the guest chair she occupied while examining his pets, Strang and Durm. A rare breed of canines known as Presa Canario, they were obviously as intelligent and well trained as they were deadly.

Despite his words, and polite expression, Karrde's mind was racing with dread. He knew very well who she was, even if he had been unable to obtain a clear photo of her before: the leader of the growing gang known euphemistically as the 'Straw Hats.'

From what he could gather, she had personally and quietly destroyed various small-time criminal groups, and managed a growing criminal empire. At first Karrde had been suspicious of her role until she was seen giving instructions to one of her enforcers, the blonde with feet like steel.

"Do you know what my people and I find most admirable about you?" Nico pleasantly asked. "It's not that you're probably the world's foremost underworld information broker in addition to your impressive smuggling network, it's that you are only truly ruthless when it comes to protecting the interests of your subordinates." Her smile grew even more beautiful. "If I promised to leave your subordinates alone if you committed suicide here and now, your only concern would be guaranteeing their safety."

He almost touched the panic button at that point. But she's probably already disabled it and all my other security features. Most of them at least. Probably.

"And that is something my leader approves of." Karrde hid any reaction to this surprising tidbit "The ability to care about his followers before oneself is something he considers mandatory above all else. So you can relax."

Karrde tilted his head in thought. "You also know that my people are loyal to me in turn, and would disapprove of my untimely demise. Moreover, my intelligence network would not function nearly as well without me," he calmly parried. "Your own organization has been establishing your own intelligence network, although it is only bare bones given the limited time you have had. You're also trying to acquire money, articles of science, and other oddities with an unseemly haste. You need something." Unspoken was the additional word, "desperately."

The mystery woman merely appeared pleasantly surprised. "Yes indeed. Our own network is coming along well despite such a short period of time, more than you may think, yet it's obviously clear I still have much to learn about keeping it as secret as your own. Which is why I'm here, and from what I see of your desk, this will be even easier than I thought."

As if he were unaware of which papers were scattered around on top of there, Karrde took a moment to examine; psychological profiles of various super-villains, with an emphasis on how they regarded regular Humans.

He decided to place his cards on the table since she appeared to appreciate bluntness. Moreover, he was hoping in turn he would learn more about her leader.

That was a new tidbit for him, and he was unapologetically hungry for more details about this shadowy figure who had such a dangerous woman as a mere lackey.

Of course, if it was that man with the three swords, that would be both unsurprising and frankly boring.

"The number of individuals with superpowers is growing," he admitted, placing his palms face-down on his desk. "We have advanced weaponry, acquired from assorted governments, except we are forced to consider the need of recruiting those with such abilities to match that of both law enforcement and our competitors. Unfortunately, those such powers who are also 'villains,'" he said with a twinge of irony at the term, "also tend towards mental . . . quirks shall we say. Ones that can make them dangerous to my employees."

Instantly understanding, the brunette settled back in her chair —likely having already disabled the booby trap hidden within it— and gave a small tilt of her chin. "In exchange for information and your discretion, we'll pay you handsomely and assist you with metahumans who prove to be a challenge. The difficulty will be equivalent of the information you provide us of course."

Ergo, no taking on heroes for paltry scraps.

He reached over to pour some brandy for two. "I do believe we'll get along well then, so long," and now he gave her a slightly chilly look of his own, "as long as the discretion goes both ways."

"Of course," she simply agreed, foregoing the drink and getting up to leave. "I left a list of what we need in your safe, along with money to compensate for what I've already learned from you today."

With that she walked out the door.

Mere seconds later Karrde followed with Strang and Durm, concerned about how his subordinates might react, except she had already disappeared into thin air once out of sight.

Within his office, all his security features had indeed been disabled, as had his phone. The money in his safe however had included a little extra to pay for repairing his various security features. Well, at least she's civil, and maybe has a sense of humour . . .

!JUSTICE!

Sobbing, Permafrost ran through the alleys of Dakota. Even she had nearly forgotten her old name of Maureen Connor, and knew that everyone else already had. Why would they not? She was unimportant. Now she was Permafrost, the name the voices in the dark whispered.

Why, why'd I go there!? she berated herself as she fled. She knew that going inside the mall to beg for change was too public, knew how she felt about the people there, but she had still gone. Seen all those happy families who refused to see the homeless, all caught up in their warm, comfy lives.

It had been some jewelry, Permafrost had been unable to ignore it, and then that man had said she did not belong and he was right and then her powers had gotten out of control and—

She stumbled as she remembered that woman protecting her daughter. Remembered her own mom, and the pain!

"Hey, are you alright?"

Whirling around, she saw a man approaching, carrying several large bags of groceries. He had a warm looking purple coat, a lit cigarette in his mouth, and messy blonde hair. "I can get you a hot meal if you want."

No one cares about me! So what does he want!? Permafrost stepped back. "No! Stay away!"

But the stranger put down his groceries and held up a placating hand as he slowly advanced. "It's alright, I won't hurt you. Just come with me—"

To the terrified and confused girl, he morphed into the figure of the woman from child services who had taken her away after her mom died.

"NOOO!" Permafrost shrieked, and instinctively her powers came wildly to her call. Eyes blazing with a purple light, a blast of wind and cold swept away from her. Except this man was unruffled, appearing only slightly surprised. The only real response he made was covering the top of the bags so nothing flew out. Desperately, she called forth even more of the cold within her, creating a wave ice out of thin air to cover him.

"No," she gasped, grasping her head in her hands. She had just killed a man. "No, no. Not my fault, no."

Ice burst apart into water and mist, and the man continued to stand before her, except on fire. "The offer of a hot meal still stands," he gently told her as his passionate flames died away, "although I bet you'd prefer someone to talk to first."

Open mouthed in shock, Permafrost could not even move her legs. Then someone else showed up.

"Sanji! There you are! Why'd you—" the newcomer paused as she took in the scene.

She's beautiful. Like an angel, Permafrost thought.

"Oh," the angel-lady softly said. Carefully she came towards Permafrost, arms also spread to the sides to appear safe and reassuring. "Don't worry, we won't hurt you. My name's Nami. Let me guess, you're alone and afraid, and you thought Sanji would hurt you?"

"Not my fault," Permafrost managed.

"No, it's not your fault," the strange lady, Nami, assured her. Her eyes narrowed. "Are you out here alone because of your parents, or did something happen to them?"

"M . . . Mom, s-she—" the homeless girl got out, tears starting to leak. Suddenly, heedless of the lethal risk, found herself enveloped in a warm hug by Nami.

"There, there. I'm sorry to hear that. My mom . . . she's gone too. And I miss her every day."

"Mine too," the man added sadly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Permafrost's legs gave out as the tears gushed out, and she returned the hug with all her strength.

!JUSTICE!

"No, I said, what's your name?" Luffy repeated to the young girl, barely in her teens. Her pale blue skin and white hair had been replaced by normal, pale skin, and very light brown hair.

Angrily, Nami slapped her Captain over the head. "Don't pressure her!" she snapped. "She's still scared and confused." She gave Permafrost a gentler look. "He's asking you what name you were born with," she softly clarified. "What did your mom call you?"

". . . Maureen Connor," the teenager finally whispered, before ducking her head to spoon up more soup.

"See," Luffy beamed, "that wasn't too hard. Nice to meet you, Maureen!"

Maureen's head shot up to look at him in shock. "Wh, what do you want from me?" she managed.

Cocking his head, Luffy looked at her in equal confusion. "What do you have that we want?"

". . . My powers?" Her voice was so unsure it was clear that she was grasping at straws, disbelieving that even those would make her of value to someone.

"Eh, nah."

Sanji kicked his Captain in the head, and clarified. "We aren't making you stay, Maureen, which is a beautiful name by the way, and neither are we going to make you do anything. If you stop by Chopper though, he's got some pills which'll help you think clearer."

"You can't go without taking some food and warm clothes with you though," Nami decisively added.

"If she's staying," and now Volcana sauntered over, "then I'm taking care of her."

"Uhm, why?" Maureen meekly asked.

With a huff, Volcana sat down beside the young homeless girl. "Because you're an impressionable, troubled, young teenage girl who's hanging out with dangerous men who are very persuasive," —she was ignoring Nami, who was scary in her own right— "and someone's got to watch out for you. Besides, I'm fire," she set her hand aflame as a demonstration, "and you're ice. We'll work well together."

Hesitantly, Maureen smiled.

"Now, after you've eaten, we'll get you washed up," Volcana smiled. "Then more food, and then clothes shopping, and—"

!JUSTICE!

Given herself a final look in the mirror, Robin examined her appearance.

Melding her cloned arms and legs onto her originals, had given her thicker limbs. Arms wrapped around her belly and under her dress made her appear heavyset, while padding in her cheeks added to that appearance. Hair in a blonde wig, green contact lenses, and a drab grey business dress finished the disguise.

Usually she managed this via video conferencing, with her doing so out of a secured site that could be abandoned if anyone traced the calls. Plus her own screen was blanked out, while she could observe everyone else. Alas, sometimes the personal touch was needed, so tried to do a meeting whenever she had the (scant) time.

A consummate actress, even her walking style changed as she entered the boardroom through the private door.

"Thank you for joining me," the woman the audience only knew as Miss Sunday calmly greeted the assembled men and women. They all only sat after she had done so. "I trust you are all satisfied with this month's profits?"

Murmurs of agreement echoed around the room, and soon they got down to business. Robin led them through a list of other companies that she wanted to acquire or invest in, and her employees threw around some insightful ideas on how to do it.

None of them were wanted criminals, merely entrepreneurs who were willing to handle large sums of money whose origins they did not question. Nor ponder how while some of the transactions that 'Miss Sunday' desired were clearly shrewd moves to generate further capital, others were rather strange or apparently nonsensical. The most glaring examples of this being why so much wealth was poured into owning a growing percentage of the meat industry, or maintaining control of a certain new brand of cola that was becoming increasingly popular.

Some of villains working for them had even taken to asking her to invest their own money into the meat business. Not just for the profits, but also because of nagging concern of whether Luffy would remain a Good Captain if he did not get enough meat, and what kind of Bad Captain he might become if that happened . . .

Robin's giggling whenever she heard that, did not reassure them. At all.

!JUSTICE!

"Soooo, are we, uhm, turning into superheroes now? Or super anti-heroes?" Cheetah delicately asked as she looked at the motionless form of a bloody man as Sanji and Zoro walked away. The individual in question had the misfortune of trying to hide out in the same warehouse as them as they made their way back to the main base, and Cheetah had recognized him from the news.

I mean sure, he's a serial rapist and killer and no one's complaining, except they just attacked him the instant I identified him.

"Heroes have to return all the money they find, and even pay taxes on all their money," Nami answered, as she twirled her staff before pointing the tip at Cheetah. "Are you saying I should give up all those thousands of dollars that I stole?"

"N-No ma'am! Not at all," Cheetah gasped out, hair standing on end in fright. Of course it's what 'we' stole, not that I'm going to call you out on that. And it's easily millions by now, at least. You're just understating it to make sure no one gets greedy. Or because you want it all for yourself?

!JUSTICE!

It was a straightforward heist, stealing some rare alloys that could be sold or used to help make the portal that would take them back home, depending on what Franky's final verdict was.

Or it was supposed to be at least, but they were delayed at the last minute with Sanji noticing a bunch of people throwing half eaten food on the ground. Five minutes later, after he had forced the wasters to finish chewing down what they had started, Volcana had volunteered to keep Sanji from wandering off by asking questions about his 'heroic strength.' With their friend now distracted with something they had more influence over, Brook and Usopp led the others the rest of the way to their destination, with everyone taking off their disguises or stepping out of the alleyways and shadows.

A little gizmo that Usopp and Franky had put together cut the alarms, and Solomon Grundy tore off of the metal door for deliveries, and they all waltzed right in.

. . . To find the security people were already dead.

"I got a tip on where you were going, so I'd thought I'd beat you here," Killer Frost smirked, corpses of all of the guards piled around her within solid ice. "If you're still recruiting, how's this for an audition?"

"You killed them!?" Usopp gasped.

"Uh, yeah," the amused sociopath confirmed.

"And why did you feel the need to do that?" Brook hissed. His eyeless sockets taking in the expressions of terror and helplessness etched onto her victim's faces. One was even only holding a doughnut and newspaper. Harmless.

Grundy, Cheetah, and the other regular supervillains had thrown the dead men a quick glance, and while they were slightly disturbed by the deaths, it was nothing they were going to take issue with. At the very least, it just meant less trouble to deal with for the robbery, right?

"I absolutely detest," Brook threatened as he hefted his cane, "those who refuse to treat life with the respect it deserves!"

"Phfft! Don't tell me you guys really believe that!" she sneered. "Especially with you looking like that! What kind of villains are you, anyways?" Glancing away, she threw the others a knowing look. "I mean seriously—wait." Where's the skeleton?

Someone humming a song behind her made her spin around to take in the sight of the vanished figure twirling around a sword cane, delicately stepping around the bodies. So fast! "That supposed to scare me!?" she jeered as she raised her hands to attack. "You didn't even do anything!"

"Didn't I?" and something about his chilling tone made her freeze, and then he sheathed his blade. "Song of Scratches: Blizzard Slash!"

A single long slash erupted up Killer Frost's body, with ice coming out of it. "Wh-what!? N-no! S-so cold!" She hugged herself in a desperate urge to fight off the biting feeling seeping throughout her, a sensation she had not experienced in years. "N-not possible! I am ice!"

Gone now was the jolly musician, and all of the supervillains beheld a terrifying speaker for the dead. His empty sockets like holes trying to suck them into the bottomless abyss. "And my soul carries with it the chill of the underworld itself! A power that I wield through my blade! Goodbye and goodnight!"

With a final scream, Frost hunched over before becoming completely encased within a block of ice, unable to move or make a sound.

Unable to look away from the frozen expression of pain and horror, Cheetah could only manage, "D-did you kill her!?"

"No," Brook informed her as he turned away to jauntily waltz through the building to retrieve their prize. "But we'll have to take her with us so she doesn't tell the police about us. The freezer will do for now." At some point they would hand her over to the authorities, just not until the pirates were done keeping their existence a secret. Probably. Maybe.

And all of the other watching and dumbfounded criminals were busy revising their opinions on when it was acceptable to kill, and when it wasn't.

!JUSTICE!

Franky grinned as the mansion burned.

"Maybe that'll get the message across!" he boomed, before taking a big breath to spew out more fire.

This was the holdout of a particularly nasty gangster named Mandragora. The crime boss had discovered that one of his men was making money on the sly by selling information to Karrde, and had killed the mole, his wife and kids, extended family, several friends, and the pets, all as an example. Normally the spymaster would avenge one of his agents himself, except a) that would have alerted others to what kind of power and influence he wielded, and b) had suspicions that Mandragora was a meta-human himself. So he had contacted Robin.

Sure, this might seem like an act of charity, except it was part of their deal with the info broker, and Mandragora had had plenty of cash to steal. Not to mention he was heavily invested in the drug trade, which disgusted all the Straw Hats. The reason Franky was here, instead of continuing to work on a gateway home, was because he had overheard the gory details of the man in question had inflicted on helpless children as a warning, and decided he could do with a little exercise. There's some things you just don't do, he thought resolutely. The League might not be able to do anything because they need legal permission, except all I need is Luffy's approval and an expense validation from Nami Sis.

Besides, Luffy had ordered him to take a break and work off some stress.

"Bout time you guys let me let loose!" Volcana preened, before letting loose another blast of her own to burn down what was left of the fancy, pricy garden. Half the reason she was even here, as opposed to tutoring Maureen on her math —the government agency that had raised Volcana had provided her with a good, fundamental education at least— was because Franky knew she also needed to vent, so as to not show the young teen her more troubled side.

Looking around, he took further stock of the situation. Don't see Zoro. So he's probably found Mandragora's —which is a stupid, wordy name— personal booze supply, while grumbling about how his swords are going to go dull at this rate. Either that or he's lost

. . . I've really got to get around to giving him that new eye with the implanted GPS tracker.

As for Nami Sis, she's probably finished stripping the mansion bare, and gone off to find Zoro.

Yep, he could hear the sound of her furious screeching now. Probably saying how she could not spend all day looking for him, because she had to go back to play her 'Dr. Mikan' role.

. . . Or possibly she was angry because the mansion he and Volcana had lit on fire was burning faster than she could loot it. Oops.

Overall though, everything seemed to be going SUPER.

Then Franky's gaze darkened at what he saw.

Moving faster than anyone his bulk and metallic composition should be capable of, he was beside Volcana and snuffing out the fireball in her hands within a single massive metallic one.

The already badly burnt guard on ground continued to spasm, not even aware his life had just been saved.

"He's beaten," the cyborg growled. "You don't need to take it any farther."

Glaring at him in shock, she snarled, "You hypocrite! You were just throwing around lasers and missiles at Mandragora, yelling how he wasn't 'Super' enough to handle you! What about that!?"

Unfazed, the lenses of his sunglasses continued to bore down upon her. "That was in the middle of a fight, and making sure none of them had a chance to hurt the others, including you. This guy's beaten, and a man doesn't let others kill someone when he's down. He's not worth it."

She held his eyes for a few seconds longer, but then lets her arms go limp. "Fine!" she snapped, angrily stalking off.

Giving her a minute, Franky took another critical look at the mansion. It was still burning, yet the firetrucks would probably make it before anyone got killed. Probably.

He glanced over his shoulder. "I've got some pretty keen hearing, so how's about you come out?"

"I wasn't trying to hide," an angry voice bit out.

Out of the shadows came an attractive young woman, well dressed in civilian clothes that accented her perfect curves. Tentatively Franky labeled her as 'Italian.' The crossbow in her hand was a little unusual though.

"I saw the fire and came running," she continued. "And then I overheard you arguing with your partner. So you killed Mandragora?"

"Did you see who my partner was?" Franky asked. The Justice League and authorities did not know about them yet, or that they were recruiting supervillains, and the Straw Hats wanted to keep it that way.

"No," was her impatient re[;u as she glared at him, waiting for him to answer her own question.

Judging her to be sincere, Franky said, "You wanted to be the one to kill him."

"Yes," she hissed out in frustration. "I just wasn't good enough to do it without getting killed first! A little more time . . ." she cut herself, biting her lip in anger.

"He's still alive."

The strange lady's head snapped up, but Franky held up a warding hand. "What'd he do to you?"
"Killed my family," was the prompt reply, a dangerous light in her eyes.

Franky stared at her. He had known too many people who let vengeance consume them. At the same time, he knew from personal experience how important that closure could be. When he had gone after Spandam the first time, he had been maddened by pain and rage, only to 'die' by standing in front of a train. The second time however, with the Straw Hats . . .

"Mandragora is alive and unconscious in that mansion," indicating with a massive thumb over his shoulder. "Stripped of his wealth, and probably his bank accounts too by this point. Personal secrets and whatever blackmail he relied upon leaked. Despite the fire, he, his bodyguards, and main enforcers are going to be in the hospital for a while, and then jail with what we left for the cops to find. They're probably too banged up to even remember what happened." Certainly not in the chaos of the lightning blitz of their assault. "He's going down, and if not, his competitors will probably try to kill him off while he's vulnerable. Or whichever of his own people weren't here and are feeling ambitious."

With that, Franky turned and walked off. "But I won't stop you."

Just before she could eagerly make her way forward, he added. "He's got a son, y'know. Kept him away from the family business. And that boy's gonna grow up without a father too. Don't be surprised if he comes after you."

He left Helena Bertinelli behind, trusting that she was enough of an adult to make her own decisions.

Around the corner, Volcana was waiting for him, looking more confused than ever. "It's personal for her," is all he said.

!JUSTICE!

Days after Clark Kent and Lois Lane's interview with

'Sanji Kuroashi' and 'Dr. Nami Mikan'

After the fall of Cherry Blossom Medical, the release of the wanted posters for Sanji, Chopper, Nami, and Usopp, the supervillains knew it was time for them to have a talk.

"Uhm, Miss Nico," Cheetah managed, cursing at how insecure she felt. Still, it was still preferable to talk to her over the others, as she had already proven ruthless enough to cripple her opponents, while being not as intimidating as Roronoa could be when he got serious.

They had taken careful steps to ensure their privacy here. Including making sure Maureen in particular was not be in earshot. There were some things she did not need to know about just yet.

"Go ahead, Cheetah," the dark haired woman offered, never taking her eyes off the thick historical volume she was reading while sipping her coffee. The Romans really had fascinating ways of killing people. "I suppose you have some questions?"

"It's just that, this whole no-killing bit, you do know someone's going to die at some point, right?"

"Yeah!" Volcana broke in from the background. "Even the goody-goody League fried all of those aliens when they first came together!"

"And we're going to be bumping heads with lots of other crooks at this rate," Clayface chirped in. "People who're ready and even eager to kill!"

Nico Robin's giggles were not what they were expecting. "Sorry," she apologized after a few moments as she regained control, except they could all see her eyes dancing. "I've been where you are, from when I first joined. Before I met the crew, I was an assassin. I killed a lot of people," all of the eavesdroppers seemed to be edging away from her at that, although the spokespeople held their ground. "In fact, I was actively complicit in the attempted murder of a lot more people just before I joined Luffy and the others. Thousands."

Which while accurate, was also misleading. The total was actually in the millions.

Alas, that would lead to more serious, and unwanted, questions about the Straw Hats and their pasts.

Seeing their expressions, Robin was struck with further amusement. It's almost like they don't know whether to be relieved or worried that I'm admitting to being a war crime-level mass murderer.

"But the thing is with the Straw Hats, is we're strong enough to take people down without killing them. And we're not afraid of them getting back up to try again." Then something harder entered her expression. "And sometimes it's even more satisfying. Leaving them alive with their Dreams shattered beyond recovery."

Signaling the conversation was over, she turned back to her book, leaving the supervillains to reflect upon her words.

"And everyone?" she suddenly spoke up again.

They all paused in their retreat and looked back, and gulped at the intensity within Nico Robin eyes and words.

"My nakama and I have all had our lives marked by death, people we've loved and lost to those who believe being willing to kill is a form of strength. While we have no interest in furthering it, we will do whatever's necessary to protect you!"

The villains trembled with fear and relief.

Then Volcana managed, imagining their go-happy leader. "Even Luffy? He's lost people too?"

Robin flinched.

For the first time ever they saw her façade crack, and they quailed at the grief and shame within.

"Including Luffy," she simply answered before turning her attention back to her book.

!JUSTICE!

A few weeks later

It was a warehouse in a rundown part of town, yet perfect for them to stay hidden as they slowly recovered.

According to Chopper's earlier call, it was a rogue Amazon named Aresia who was responsible for the allergen sweeping across America. All of the men in the Straw Hats barring him and Brook were out and slowly dying.

At the time, the supervillains had been separated from their . . . benefactors, with Poison Ivy and Cheetah racing off to join Chopper at one of his labs to help find a cure. Volcana had been left to try and help make Grundy and Clayface comfortable, while reassuring Maureen that they would be alright.

Then a few minutes ago, Poison Ivy and Cheetah had raced back in with what they claimed was a cure.

"Thank goodness," Volcana breathed out in relief as Clayface's form started to solidify, and Grundy started moving again.

"Told you it would work," Cheetah purred, hiding her own great relief behind smugness at how she had contributed.

"I wonder how that allergen could be so selective," Poison Ivy mused aloud, earning a scowl and angry hiss respectfully from the other ladies. "Relax," she lazily reassured them as she waved her hand. "Tempting as it is, if I was going to resort to that level of biological warfare, I'd have done it already. It was only a matter of time before it mutated and did something harmful. Given how it could target aliens like that, it was only a matter of time before it started killing off male animals next." She gave a small smirk, "Animals who aren't just Humans I mean. Plants need them to produce carbon dioxide after all."

Her cool eyes both unnerved her fellow criminals, while reassuring them Poison Ivy had not 'gone soft.'

That was not to say she did not have extensive notes on the subject matter, she had just never made any real progress with it. Besides, Harley was part of the human race, and Ivy had no idea how this allergen had distinguished between genders. Ergo, more . . . surgical methods were required.

Most of all, she was not going to trust someone else's work with decimating the Human race, especially not someone so reckless.

For now however, Poison Ivy was content with building up her resources working for the Straw Hats.

A groan from Clayface as his face reassembled itself cut off anything else.

!JUSTICE!

A few hours later

They all sat around the warehouse, taking a breath to relax after the harrowing day.

People whose powers and deformities had rendered them outcasts from society. Forcing them to endlessly lower themselves just to survive, or find peace.

Or finding them striking back at the sanctimonious hypocrites who had rejected them.

. . . Or, you know, because they really did like being free from social norms and expectations. And really, really wanted that big screen TV or jewelry, and were unwilling to work to earn the money to pay for it.

Right now, the adults had all wordlessly gathered together. They had gently shooed Maureen off to bed, saying she was a growing girl, and needed her rest.

By memory, Cheetah walked over to a certain wall, following the directions that Miss Nico had given to find and unlock the hidden safe. A few moments later she returned to the group of supervillains with several duffle-bags full of cash. "These should tie us over until the Straw Hats renew contact," she flatly said.

There was a moment of silence, then Volcana, asked, "What does it say about us that none of us seem to feel like just walking off with all that cash? And not just because we're afraid they'll track us down?" The other supervillains gave uncomfortable nods.

"We're trusting them to come get us," Clayface hesitantly contributed, voicing thoughts that he had not dared say aloud around the Straw Hats.

"They treat us nice," rumbled Solomon Grundy, obviously a little confused by it. "Honest nice." The skeleton Brook had been teaching him how to do corpse jokes, which even Grundy was finding hilarious.

The others all smiled at him, only dimly realizing how they were all treating him better too. "Yes indeed," Cheetah agreed. "And yeah, Volcana's right, if they wanted to beat us all at once, they wouldn't even need their big guns to do it. But," holding up a finger at how defensive some of them seemed, "we all know they're our best bet for success. We're making more money working for them than any other score!"

None could disagree.

They all knew that their —allies? Employers? Associates? Friends? — were their best hope for a better, real future.

It was clear that the Straw Hats did not regard them as actual 'crew members,' their innermost circle, yet they had still been inviting and helpful as the supervillains worked to carry out their ends of the bargain and rebuild their lives.

Frankly, it had been weird how uninterested the Straw Hats found their various afflictions, accepting all of the diverse natures of the super-villains without blinking an eye. It was even disturbing how genuinely enthusiastic some of them were about it. Yet despite this acceptance and familiarity, some incidents over this had also driven home though, that the Straw Hats were the senior partners in their relationship.

But they did not care.

For the first time in longer than they could remember, they were genuinely accepted. They were happy. And they would always cherish that.

Oh sure, there were hassles like Nami's temper, or Sanji's blatant sexism (although the special treats he baked for the ladies were a delight), but nothing they would really complain about.

There was also the issue of Monkey D. Luffy.

They all knew he was powerful, but it was equally clear that he was hiding the greater extent of it. Still, they all strongly suspected that in the supervillain hierarchy he would be a major player if he ever stepped out of the shadows.

No, none of them had any delusions which ones were the biggest, baddest criminals around here.

That said, this enterprise had still been immensely profitable for the super-villains.

"Oh, I just remembered, Clayface," Cheetah spoke up. "Chopper and I made some more progress on both our conditions!"

"Really!?" he said with delight.

"Yeah, we still need to run a triple check, and it'll still take time," emphasizing that she was still verifying her work since there was no need to give a violence prone man any false hope, "but now I've got a clear plan on how we'll both become Human again!"

The others started a flurry of encouragement and congratulations, when the doors to the building snapped opened, putting them all on guard until Cheetah caught a familiar scent and raised a calming hand.

"Hey guys," Luffy called out in a cheerful voice, "you all doing okay?"

"Yes, Captain!" they answered without hesitation. Volcana quickly went off to wake up Maureen despite having just sent her to bed, since they were now leaving sooner than expected.

"Great! Then let's get going!"

As one they rose to follow the Straw Hat Pirates into whatever future awaited them all.

!JUSTICE!

Author Notes:

Lots of kudos to jmr46718 for all their suggestions and inspiration, really helped me expand the cast! :-D Scene with the League discussing recruits and Sanji directly inspired by iron maker2, check out their original hilarious version in the reviews. My thanks to Zweig for inspiring me regarding Huntress. For everyone else, thank you very much for your suggestions, they gave me tons of ideas. Also, just because a villain you suggested has not been shown here does not mean they will not appear later . . . and not necessarily on the Straw Hat's side ;-P

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Regarding Grundy going toe to toe with Superman, he has done it in the DCAU. Just remember however that Superman is almost always holding back, and never displayed that true power then. And yes, Batman has electrocuting Batarangs that can take Grundy out of a fight.

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Talon Karrde was imported from the Star Wars Expanded Universe, but his sole contribution to the plot will be informing the pirates of useful tidbits of information. This is because as complete strangers to this universe, the Straw Hats would need a good while to create their own network of contacts.

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Permafrost/Maureen's introductions is one of my very rare alterations to the timeline, since in canon the event she is referring to happened around Christmas, and this takes place in the Fall now.

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Next Chapter: 'Halloween'

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Please Review, and I will get back to you!