A.N.: I tried to make the transition from the 4 part flashback into the "present" in this chapter as painless as possible, but it still ended up being a tad awkward. Sorry. After this, I'll be posting a filler chapter and then going back to my two-week posting schedule.

I think the last line of this chapter might be my favorite from this arc, right next to Pierce taunting Doflamingo. I hope you enjoy what it implies as much as I do.

Dearest Mother and Father. Geraldo read the words carved into his skin backward in the mirror a thousand times after he'd woken in the barrel. Karmen thanked them for their concern and told them to kindly leave her the hell alone. She kept the tone sweet and caring with a subtext of dangerous intent. She'd been born a Dragon and her diplomacy suited her lineage. Sincerely your beloved daughter, Karmen. His entire torso, save his arms, were now cut and scarred beyond his own recognition.

He returned to Willow. Her fondness for him meant she'd be more forgiving than her husband, and Ikaika had not yet crossed the Red Line. He could see it in his men's eyes as he landed in the garden in front of her, blood seeping through his shirt. They resented him for going alone and knew he was going to bite the bullet. Some of them thought he deserved it. He had to do this well or he'd lose his life. He knew. So instead of cowering and showing his embarrassment, he stood up straight and bowed deeply. As he straightened, he began undoing the buttons of his shirt. "My Lady, I came to confirm the sighting of your daughter, Gallowcomb Jenevive Willow Karmen. I return with a message and a signature verifying the crew she travels with." He dropped his shirt to the ground and squared his shoulders, painfully stretching the carved flesh of his chest and back for her to read.

Willow's eyes widened and she leaned in to read it. There were so many lines it took her two minutes to finish. When she got to the signature at the bottom she leaned back. Here it came. She'd voice her displeasure. She'd lift her pearl-handled pistol to his forehead, and grin as she pulled the trigger. That would be the end. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, waiting.

Willow laughed, deep and dark. It evolved into a roaring cackle. She placed a palm on each of his cheeks, pulled him towards her, and placed a kiss on his forehead. He opened his eyes, more startled than if she had shot him. "We have her," she said, eyes gleaming. "We finally have her." She kept his face level with hers. "Organize your men and escort Ikaika to Baldwin's manor on San Faldo once he arrives. I'll handle everything else. We're finally going to have this wedding."

So he had, and he'd encountered the Straw Hats leaving with Karmen and had been unable to prevent it, again. There was no use running. If he was to be killed for his failures, he'd be killed. He would at least be able to give Ikaika useful information before he died. That might alleviate the anger enough to make his death quick. He had no family to mourn him and his men were practically salivating at the chance to hold his position. That was just how things were. He had one loyalty and one loyalty only, and if that cost him his life, then so be it. He knew nothing else. He could go nowhere else. He didn't want to.

And yet, Ikaika had reacted to his failure similarly to Willow. He'd hired him to be a mercenary instead of a bounty hunter. Now here he is: More pay, more loyalty from his men, more freedom to do what he enjoyed most. He should be six feet under with a bullet hole in his head, but he's not. He's better off than he'd ever been before and it's exhilarating. He holds onto his dumbfounded disbelief as he walks from Baldwin's manor next to Ikaika.

They return to his master's ship and there he hears the familiar clink of chains. In the corner of the study in the captain's quarters sits a large box made of sea stone with a single locked door. There are small, barred windows in each side. Inside, he can see shackles chained to the roof of the box and in them are wrists scarred from similar metal bands. He looks inside, suspicions confirmed.

Pierce is thinner than when Geraldo had last seen him. His hair is a foot longer and he has whip marks covering both sides of his torso. He looks like he hasn't been dunked in an eel tank for months and smells to match. His breathing is labored and shallow as if just sitting in that box is suffocating. If starvation and torture didn't kill him, infection soon would.

All this is entertaining enough, but what really catches Geraldo's attention is his eyes, or lack thereof. He remembers how Pierce had never turned his face in Geraldo's direction, no matter how much he berated him, and now he thinks he knows why. Had he been ashamed of looking weak to the man tormenting him? The idea delights him.

It looks like Ikaika had taken a sharp implement and carved through the skin, down to the bone in some places, to cut them out. The wounds blossom out from the gaping holes in all directions, two to three inches long, jagged and swollen with infection. Something fuzzy is sprouting from the wounds, the sight of which makes Geraldo grin as widely as Doflamingo. They're healed where they aren't blackening or sprouting. Maybe the infection would eat to his brain and they'd have a few weeks of entertainment before he finally kicked the bucket.

"You really do need to just give it up," he tells the prisoner. "I want to see if that body of yours will kill whatever we feed it to after you die."

"Wouldn't that be impressive," Pierce quips back, not having lost any of his spunk despite how raw his throat sounds. "Even dead I could inflict more damage than you."

The smile fades from his face and he decides to hit the boy where he knows it will hurt. "Did you hear, bodyguard?" Geraldo asks him with a little sneer. "Your precious mistress jumped off a cliff. Willow told her that if she didn't cooperate we'd kill you and she took a plunge instead. Now doesn't that just make you feel loved?"

Pierce's head tilts to the side so that his ear catches more sound. "How tall was this cliff?"

"Over a mile," he answers. "I checked it myself."

To his surprise, Pierce chuckles. "Then she is out of your reach."

As delusional as the prisoner seems to be, he'd been somewhat right. Two weeks later when Willow calls, saying that she, her brother Ludovic, and Baldwin had been shot out into the ocean by Straw Hat Luffy and had spent the entire time on a seaweed raft. Geraldo was in the study of the mansion on Valcour when Ikaika answered with his half-truths. His master held a finger to his lips. The message was clear. Don't let her know he'd seen Karmen alive. He rolled the ring he'd received in the mail between his fingers as he told her that their daughter was dead. Geraldo has to admit that the pictures had been convincing. If it hadn't been for him, they'd have every reason to believe she'd perished at the banquet. He's filled with a sense of pride in that fact. He'd single-handedly ruined her plan.

When Ikaika hangs up the receiver, he glances over at his new hire. "Will this be a problem for you?"

Geraldo shakes his head. "This means we have the first crack at your daughter as soon as she decides to show her face again. That's all I want."

His master grins darkly. He'd said the right words. His expression becomes one of consideration, as if he's deciding to keep some grave piece of information or share it. "She's not my daughter," he finally says with an air of resolution. "She never was." Geraldo's eyes widened but he knows it's not his place to ask more. If Ikaika wanted to explain, he will. He doesn't. Had Willow born an illegitimate daughter? It would explain why Ikaika'd been so distant to his wife and why he now didn't seem to care about the divorce she'd called for. The man gives a shrug and pours himself a drink. "Get some rest and we'll discuss our preparations at a later time."

When Geraldo returns to his room, he sees Zaytsev's rifle hanging above his bed, dusty, but still in mint condition. He'd left it behind when he'd gone to Galaval with Ikaika. Strangely, he'd very rarely found himself missing it. Now, as he looks at it there, he wonders why he'd kept it at all. He flicks his fingers towards it, sending out tendrils of floss to pluck it up and carry it to him. He'd kept it as a memento of Zaytsev and his years serving Willow, but he serves Ikaika now. Geraldo tightens his strands and the rifle is sliced apart, falling into hundreds of pieces on his floor. He'd have a servant sweep it up and throw it out when he woke. He has no need for reminders of the weak.

It seems like no time at all before news of Sabaody reached them. Once again, Kuma has gotten in the way. There is no way he can escape grave consequences now. They know that he won't breathe a word about where he'd sent her this time. The marines forgo the interrogations and send him straight for new surgeries. Geraldo reads the reports with a smile on his face. Soon, there won't be anything left of the Warlord she knows.

After that, Doflamingo dropped out of the slave trade, causing their workforce to plummet significantly. Ikaika begins sending Geraldo and his units out to make up the difference. It feels good to be out on missions again. He likes seeing the terror in people's eyes when he unleashes his powers on them. He takes those he can and kills those who resist. He revels in the power, the freedom, the blood, the fear. It's intoxicating.

He's coming back from one of these trips in the early morning hours when he sees the flames coming from Valcour. Terror struck, he takes to the sky, ripping through his shirt completely, and flies ahead. This time, his crew is happy to see him be the first into the fray. When he reaches the burning mansion, he realizes things are worse than he thought. The flames are high and searing, surrounding the ocean-side face of the house. It's hard finding passage inside. His eyes trace each window, each vent. Finally, they land on a wooden grate far above his head. The attic. He flaps, hot air propelling him upward like a balloon, and dives feet first for the grate.

He smashes through and lands on the wooden floor of the attic. The boards beneath him seep smoke and crackle as if the ceiling of the room below is ablaze. From the heat he feels, it probably is. He moves swiftly forward, knocking the door off its hinges and leap down over the burning stairs. "Master! Sir Ikaika!" The smoke is blinding and suffocating. It burns in his throat and stings his eyes. The heat makes him dizzy and unsteady on his feet. He covers his mouth with a wing and uses the others to brush off falling cinders and debris. He can't stay much longer, but he knows instinctively where he'll find Ikaika. The man is always there, working into the late hours of the morning and napping in his chair. Is Ikaika trapped under burning rubble? He prepares himself for a nasty sight. Still, Geraldo isn't prepared for the sight that meets him when he breaks down the door with his shoulder. There lies Ikaika, unconscious on his 5 billion Berri rug, missing his arms. Their stumps are black and oozing with something other than blood that spreads in a puddle around him. The smell is terrible, like rotting flesh and tar, and the sight of the man he respected being humiliated in such a way makes his stomach turn. It had to have been her. Karmen. Only she was this vicious. This fearless. The flames had barely touched the office up to this point, which he's amazed at. The crack of the building around him snaps him into action. He shoots silk at the stumps of his master's shoulders, effectively sealing them from ash and infection. Before attempting to move him, he makes sure he has a clear exit. When he looks behind him, he's glad he checked. The flames have engulfed the hall. He'll have to make a new way out. Thinking quickly, he picks up the desk chair and throws it out the window. Glass shatters and rains down on the wall of flame beneath them. The backdraft pulls at the flames in the hall and he knows he only has seconds to save both their lives. He drapes his master over his shoulders and leaps, creating a silk cocoon around them both as they fall into the garden below.

They land roughly and roll into a singed topiary, but Geraldo uses the pain to clear his head as he breaks them free from the cocoon, using the husk as a shield from the raining ashes as he drags Ikaika away from the building. He takes him along the cliffside wall to the front gate. Attempting to ensure his master rests as comfortably as he can, all considering, he makes him a hammock of silk and gently lays him into it. Ikaika's breathing is labored with pain, chest heaving with the mere effort it's taking to stay alive. His skin is clammy and he shakes with shock. Sweat pours down his brow and his head jerks as if he's having a nightmare.

Geraldo takes a transponder snail from his pocket and dials. "Marine emergency services, how can we help you?"

"The Gallowcomb manor on Valcour has been attacked. Master Ikaika is badly injured. Send all the medical staff available and an admiral."

"Valcour?" The receptionist's voice shakes. "Right away sir! They'll be there as fast as they can!"

The Marines come, escorted by Admiral Borsalino and the top trauma surgeons the marines can provide. Geraldo explains what he'd seen as best as he can while the team of doctors work to stabilize his master enough for transport. He leaves out his suspicions about Karmen. Ikaika wouldn't look kindly on letting the marines have the upper hand on their hunt. Borsalino leaves to make the official report afterward, saying they'd already arranged for the top doctors and scientists the government could provide to treat Ikaika and help with his recovery. He'd escort them there personally.

Ikaika wakes as they are loading him on the ship and Geraldo repeats the admiral's plan. "Don't worry, sir," he tells him. "We'll get you patched up and we'll hunt her down."

"No," he shakes his head. "Don't waste resources. She isn't finished with me. She'll come back." He shifts as if he wants to reach for something, then lays his head down and sighs painfully. "There's a black book in my breast pocket. On the last page, there is a number. Call it."

Geraldo does as he's told, holding the snail so his master can speak into it.

"Hello?" A man answers.

Geraldo's eyes widen but he doesn't speak. He recognizes that voice.

"This is Ikaika. I'm on my way to your lab. When I'm out of surgery, Admiral Borsalino and I want to have a long talk concerning your daughter."