Chapter 22 - Oh No, Ben Beckman !
Carlos, in the protected confine of his castles, the loathsome Celestial Dragon, strutted imperiously amidst a group of whimpering slaves. His obese frame encased in the thick, white suit of privilege, Carlos brandished a whip with callous intent, a cruel instrument of torment that echoed the cries of the oppressed. A begging slave, on bended knees, pleaded for mercy as the whip lashed through the air, leaving welts on broken flesh. The pitiful wails mingled with the ominous silence of Marijois, a haunting symphony of suffering under the tyranny of the celestial elite.
Like a burst of confetti in a sea of seriousness, appeared a figure wrapped in a dazzling disco outfit that could blind even the most haughty Celestial Dragon with its sheer fabulousness. The disco man was wearing on his back a cigar-smoking mummy sporting a hat straight out of a fashion graveyard. As if that weren't enough, a child was carried by the man gloved and Haki-reinforced hand.
The disco man, undeterred by the oppressive ambiance, began to shimmy and twirl, creating an impromptu dance floor where Mary Geois' cold stones became the stage. The slaves began whispering between them about a dancing god. The mummy, with an air of nonchalance, tapped its bandaged foot to the imaginary beat. As laughter erupted from the unexpected audience, Carlos found himself momentarily forgotten.
"Nika…He…He is real ! And he has come !" Cried one of the older slave.
With a flourish of disco panache, the flamboyant figure addressed the stupefied onlookers. "Well, well, what have we here? A Celestial Waste in the midst of this sorry affair?" He gestured flamboyantly towards Carlos, who screamed for his guards in response, and started shooting on the man - who dodged with sick dance moves. Then, the dancing man yeeted the child to Charlos. With a gleeful smile, she gently poked him, an act so audacious in its simplicity that it shattered the veneer of the celestial's invincibility.
"I choose you, Sugar ! Attack "Let's transform this asshole into an anal plug, gift it to one of Big Mom's children and make everyone forget about him!"
And everyone forgot about Saint Carlos.
"One down, about four hundred to go!"
In Admiral Akainu's stern office, awash in the dim glow of marine-issued lamps, Admiral Kizaru sprawled lazily in a chair. The two admirals engaged in a laid-back exchange with glasses of sake in hand.
Akainu, now the Fleet Admiral, leaned forward, his gaze bearing a smug confidence. He may have not killed an Emperor, but he was still chosen as the Fleet Admiral, proving his superiority. "Borsalino, my concept of Absolute Justice leaves no room for philosophical whims. Swift and relentless justice is the superior path."
Kizaru, taking a languid sip of his sake, raised an eyebrow. "Ah, Absolute Justice. Sounds serious, Sakazuki-sama Fleet Admiral Sir. I prefer my justice with a dash of philosophical flair, you know?"
Akainu's tone carried a hint of condescension. "Borsalino, simplicity ensures efficiency. There's no place for nuance in the pursuit of justice."
Kizaru, maintaining his breezy demeanor, grinned. "Well, Sakazuki-sama, I find shades of gray rather entertaining. Adds a bit of excitement, don't you think?"
Akainu smirked, convinced of the supremacy of his position. "Efficiency is paramount, Kizaru. It guarantees justice without unnecessary complications."
As they raised their glasses for a toast, Kizaru's expression remained easygoing. "To your promotion, Sakazuki-sama. May Absolute Justice reign supreme, even if it moves at my leisurely pace."
Akainu, pleased with Kizaru's acknowledgment, clinked glasses in return. Yet, beneath the smug exterior, a subtle undercurrent of jealousy stirred. Deep down, Akainu couldn't shake the knowledge that it was Kizaru who had dealt the blow to Big Mom, an achievement that lingered in the shadows of his fleet admiral pride. Kizaru watched as Akainu drank the last drop of the sake he had brought - and in which Kuma had seeped some Jealousy.
In the lively streets of Dressrosa, Violet, the flamenco dancer, had transformed into a spectacle of divine absurdity. Clad in a dazzling yellow nun's habit that clashed with her passionate flair, she twirled flamboyantly while wielding castanets as if they were sacred relics. With a tambourine strategically strapped to her hip, she began her fervent street sermon, extolling the virtues of the one and only "God Kizaru"
"Behold, ye mortals of Dressrosa, for the light of Godsalino shines upon us like a laser beam of divine grace!" she exclaimed, punctuating her proclamation with a perfectly timed flamenco stamp. Startled townsfolk exchanged bewildered glances as the flamenco nun continued to dance and preach.
Violet spun towards a market vendor, exclaiming, "You there, kind merchant! Have you heard the gospel of Kizaru, the God of Light? The God of Freedom? The Dancing God? His justice is swift, like a sale on discount fruits! Praise be to Kizaru!"
Undeterred, Violet approached a skeptical elderly woman. "Fear not, dear granny, for Kizaru's kick of justice is more comforting than a cup of warm tea! Join us in the divine dance of enlightenment!"
The elderly woman, bemused, found herself twirling awkwardly alongside the flamenco nun, and soon, a small crowd joined in, forming an unintentional flash mob.
Kaido felt an extremely rapid presence appear and then disappear almost instantaneously near Udon, on the island of Wano. This would have worried him if he hadn't been concentrating on the aura of the furious Emperor Shanks approaching him.
Smoker, Sanji, Zoro and Law were nursing their hungover when the jovial Kizaru appeared before them.
"Alright Boys ! Sanji, have you ever cooked dragon ?"
The shores of Wano trembled under the weight of a looming confrontation as Red Hair Shanks, the formidable Emperor, anchored his imposing boat along with his crew. As the sea breeze whispered of rebellion and oppression, Ben Beckman, Shanks' trusted right-hand man, cast a discerning glance at his captain.
"Captain," Ben Beckman cautioned, his sharp eyes assessing the situation, "before we make any moves, remember to ask questions. We can't afford to fall into a trap, and we still need to find Uta."
Shanks nodded, his scarlet mane dancing in the wind as he disembarked onto the sands of the oppressed land. The crew followed suit, their presence a formidable force against the oppressive backdrop of Wano. As they ventured further into the territory, the towering figures of Kaido, along with his calamities—King, Queen, and Jack—materialized on the beach. The air grew tense with the unspoken confrontation that hung heavily in the air.
"What do you want, Shanks ?" Kaido, his imposing figure radiating an aura of brutality, acknowledged the other Emperor with a sinister grin. The two Emperors, titans of the seas, faced each other in a silent exchange of tension and suppressed hostility. The weight of the impending clash seemed to echo through the land.
However, before the verbal volleys could escalate into the anticipated clash, a sudden hush descended over Shanks' crew. Yasopp, the sharpshooter with eyes as keen as a hawk scanned the horizon, peering into the distance with an intensity that belied the impending revelation. With a furrowed brow, he pointed towards a distant spot, roughly two kilometers away.
As Shanks and Kaido engaged in a tense exchange of words, the sharpshooter's voice cut through the air like a chilling wind. "Captain... look there."
Shanks turned his gaze toward the indicated direction, where the sharpshooter's eyes had fixed. What met his vision shattered the air of tension, replacing it with a gut-wrenching chill. Abandoned in a corner of the prison of Udon, laid the dead corpse of Shanks daughter.
Gordon's eyes widened when, suddenly, Uta appeared in front of him. Alive and well. She stared at him:
"Why are you looking at me like that, Gordon? I just took an hour's nap, didn't I? It was too long and I missed my show.
Gordon broke down in tears of relief and took the teenager in his arms. It had been three weeks since she disappeared. With a bad feeling in his gut, he tried to call Shanks, but there was no answer.
In the ghastly aftermath of the merciless clash, Wano's once-beautiful landscape had been transformed into a grotesque tableau of destruction. The ground was littered with the lifeless bodies of fallen comrades, and the acrid scent of death hung thick in the air. Most of the combatants, both from Kaido's and Shanks' crews, lay strewn across the ravaged battlefield, their dreams of freedom (or of oppression) extinguished in the brutal symphony of violence. Amidst the chaos, Queen's demise had came in the form of an explosive release of poisonous gas that engulfed friend and foe alike, decimating Shank's underprepared crew. The toxic cloud had seared through the ranks, decimating the remaining combatants and leaving the survivors gasping for air in the wake of the chemical onslaught. The aftermath was a battlefield of horror, strewn with the agonized cries of those who succumbed to the lethal gas.
As Ben Beckman fell unconscious from a burst of dragon's breath, Shanks and Kaido stood as the last bastions of their respective forces, each wearied by the relentless brutality of the battle. Even if Kaido's crew had become weaker from the war with Big Mom, attacking him in his territory, with Queen's mechanical defense and Wano's samurai had been a bad idea. The war-torn landscape bore the marks of their ferocity, with blood-soaked earth and shattered weapons painting a chilling portrait of the cost of ambition. Shanks, his once-immaculate attire stained with the blood of his fallen crewmates, faced the indomitable Kaido, who had transformed into a colossal dragon, scales glinting ominously.
The two were near their limit, but their eyes locked in a final testament of unyielding resolve, the air pulsating with the raw power of two Emperors locked in a battle for supremacy.
"Surprise, Motherfuckers !"
Shanks did not know who was the most surprise between Kaido and he, or the three other marines that Kizaru had just teleported on the battlefield.
Well, probably Kaido and himself : as if used to Kizaru's sheer unpredictability, the three marines moved into action, the green-haired one unsheathing three swords.
Kizaru looked at the unconscious guy as his feet.
"Oh no, Ben Beckman…"
And he kicked a bit the unconscious body.
The G2 Marine Base buzzed with activity as Vice-Admiral Dalmatian maneuvered through the bustling corridors. Whispers of unsettling rumors reached his ears, and near his office, a group of marines huddled, exchanging hushed words.
"Vice-Admiral Dalmatian, have you heard the latest gossip?" a young marine blurted out as the Vice-Admiral approached.
Dalmatian's canine features betrayed little emotion as he raised an eyebrow. "What's the talk of the base now?"
"It's about Fleet Admiral Akainu, sir. They say he went after Whitebeard himself," another marine chimed in.
Dalmatian's expression darkened. The notion of Akainu, the formidable Fleet Admiral, personally confronting Whitebeard was alarming. He gestured for the marines to follow him into his office, closing the door behind them.
"Baseless rumors have no place within these walls. Now, tell me what you've heard," Dalmatian commanded, his tone stern.
The marines exchanged glances, hesitating before one spoke up, "They say Akainu attacked the Whitebeard pirates in a commando operation and confronted Whitebeard because…well, they say it is because he's jealous of Admiral Kizaru. I don't want to say it, as…but, you know, Admiral Kizaru dealt with three emperors all by himself! He killed Big Mom and Kaido, and forced Shanks to flee ! And two at the same time, you know?! So, with only Whitebeard left and everybody's singing his subordinate's praise…"
Dalmatian's eyes narrowed. The situation seemed too incredible, even for the audacious Fleet Admiral Akainu. "Jealousy is a dangerous motive, - and speaking like that of the Fleet Admiral ! You got guts ! Three days of arrests and jail for you! Focus on your duties and await official information."
As the marines nodded and left the room, Dalmatian couldn't shake off the unease that lingered. Seated behind his desk, he contemplated the truth behind the whispers. The idea of Akainu attacking Whitebeard out of jealousy for Kizaru's success…it was not that improbable.
With a heavy sigh, Dalmatian muttered to himself, "at least, there is still admiral Kizaru…The best of us. Maybe he truly is a god…"
And then, the Vice-Admiral giggled alone. Of course he was a god. Who else would embody justice that much ? Fight against the corrupted celestials dragons ? Above all, who else could make Boa Hancock fall for him ? Praise to the light !
Hi! If you like this story, you can check out my other fiction "It's me, Dio!", which has the same style of character and humor, but is in my opinion a little better written and prepared. It's an SI of the Greek god of wine Dionysus in Percy Jackson - with a Harry Potter crossover, and elements of Bleach and Highschool DxD. You don't need to know these stories to understand the fic!