Chapter 21 - Dressa-Bossa-Nova
As a bizarre quatuor approached the guard to register for the impending spectacle, he greeted them with a wry smile.
"Well, well, what do we have here? Ready to join the Corrida Colosseum's newest competition ?" he remarked, addressing each individual.
"Names, please?"
The first man stood out with green hair, green clothes, and a flamboyant blonde mustache.
"Ziri," the green-haired swordsman declared, adjusting his flamboyant mustache.
The second, adorned in a black suit, showcased wildly curly eyebrows, and a notably fake green mustache.
"Sanjo, at your service," grinned the man with the conspicuously fake green mustache.
"Kybo. No mustache, thanks to the rules," the pink-haired third individual remarked, making the guard raise a quizzical eyebrow.
"Yeah, the Boss said I was too young to have a moustache, and that it was only for masculine men. Which, apparently, is a group I am not a part of".
"Not-a-Marine," declared the fourth, a hulking figure puffing on three cigars simultaneously.
The guard chuckled, "Well, welcome Ziri, Sanjo, Kybo, and Not-a-Marine!"
As the quartet was officially acknowledged as contestants, the guard continued, "Before you step into the madness, let me lay down the rules of the Colosseum. We've got two intense rounds awaiting you".
The contenders exchanged bemused glances—Ziri adjusting his flamboyant mustache, Sanjo grinning beneath his comically fake green facial hair, Kybo raising a quizzical pink eyebrow, and "Not-a-Marine" puffing out three swirling streams of smoke.
"In the first round, you'll have a Battle Royale, a chaotic clash in four blocks labeled A through D, with around 130 participants each. The triumphant individual from each block earns a coveted ticket to the second and ultimate round," the guard explained, setting the stage for the competitors.
"The second and final round dials up the intensity. The four block winners face off against the formidable representatives of the Donquixote Pirates: Diamante, Senor Pink, Dellinger, Lao G, and Machvise. These are seasoned warriors, each with their unique strengths. But that's not all—the Grand Prize awaits, the Logia of sand once controlled by Crocodile himself. After Crocodile's departure, our very own Doflamingo Family stumbled upon his logia, the very essence of sand!"
A logia controlling air and all other gases? A formidable fruit, with as much potential as the demon fruits of electricity or light: chemical weapons, large-scale asphyxiation, the ability to travel extremely quickly between islands, control of marine traffic - most ships were still with sails...
Fortunately, for all his intelligence, its user was really, really not wise. And above all, he knew nothing about Haki.
Kizaru scratched his head as he looked at Caesar's body.
Above all, how was he going to fit all these much too large children into his Nice Mommy? I mean, into his Mafia Backpack?
A gigantic bird's claw passed through him without doing any damage.
"Ah, Monnet. Too bad you're a Doflamingo agent, I'd have included you in my crew..."
His finger began to glow red.
"There's nothing like a little warmth to combat the snow..."
In the midst of the chaotic battle royale, "Not-a-Marine" Smoker engaged in a lively skirmish with the unexpectedly spirited Chinjao. The typically composed elder wore a hilariously perturbed expression, giving the impression that he'd misplaced his dentures rather than his usual Zen demeanor. Smoker, strategically concealed behind his clever disguise (being clothed just with pants, not his marine cloak) deftly navigated the tumultuous arena, muttering, "Someone skipped their morning meditation."
Chinjao, perhaps catching wind of the jest, unleashed his Haki with an assertiveness that could rival a motivational speaker on a caffeine high. However, in his fervor, he tripped over his cascading beard.
Bereft of his smoke powers - as per Kizaru's orders, he had to train "without being a power-dependent pussy"-, Smoker mourned them, while Chinjao, still entangled in his beard, tried to headbut the Marine. Well, the "Not a marine".
Diamante, twirling his cape like a melodramatic maestro, declared, "Behold, the prodigious victors of our Battle Royale Phase One, where luck, mustaches, and pink hair collided in spectacular fashion!"
"From Block A, give it up for Sanjo! Lucky number one, or maybe just the only one who knew where the exit was when things got tough! He only fought nobodies !"
A wave of chuckles filled the arena as Diamante hammed it up. "And in Block B, our champion is none other than Bartolomeo, conqueror of 'weaklings' and vanquisher of the poor, mustache-less wonder with pink hair. Clearly, a facial hair deficiency didn't help in the prowess department!"
The crowd booed the poor Kybo. He had no moustache, after all.
"Now, in Block C, the smokeless sensation, the contender, 'Not-A-Marine,' emerges victorious! Who needs a flashy title when you've got mystery on your side? Nobody guessed that he was a rear-admiral with logia powers undercover - which would have disqualified him ! "
Diamante's theatrics peaked as he gestured grandly. "And, brace yourselves, for the undefeated force of Block D is Ziri! The swordswoman so masculine, she makes pirates question their beard-growing abilities! She even has muscles and no breasts ! What a strange woman ! Or maybe she just did not listen the questions of the guard in charge of the registration!"
The laughter and cheers echoed through the crowd.
"Bravo, bravo! Our eclectic winners have set the stage for more unpredictable hilarity in the next act of our grand spectacle! Stay tuned, folks, because this is the comedy show that just keeps on giving!"
"Joseph," Saint Saturn's voice resonated, "in the wake of Guernica's failure, a reshuffling of ranks is imperative. You are henceforth CP0's Number 1. The new Boss"
Joseph, maintaining a stoic demeanor, nodded in acknowledgment.
Saint Warcury continued, "However, with this newfound responsibility comes an added boon." Saint Mars presented a strange, mysterious devil fruit, its aura pulsating with an otherworldly energy.
"It is the…"
Zoro swaggered into the bustling resting room, grumbling under his breath about the lackluster competition he faced. "Most of those guys were utter crap," he muttered, readjusting his swords. "But that Cavendish girl and the Pink-Haired one, Rebecca, they had some fight in them". Heh. Pink hair. Maybe she was Koby's younger-but-cooler sister. Or something.
Spotting Rebecca alone and in tears, Zoro's gruff demeanor softened, though he wasn't entirely comfortable with emotional moments. "Hey, Pink Hair, what's the waterworks about?" he asked bluntly.
Rebecca sniffled, wiping away tears, and explained her desire to win the tournament to obtain a Devil Fruit and take down Doflamingo. Zoro raised an eyebrow, considering the weight of her words. "Doflamingo, huh? Well, don't waste your tears. That guy won't be a problem much longer," he grumbled cryptically.
Rebecca's eyes widened, and she stuttered, "W-what do you mean?"
Zoro, realizing he might have said too much, cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh, nothing. Forget it. Point is, you don't need to cry. Doflamingo's time is up."
Well, Bon Clay really didn't like doing that - but it was for disco! I mean…Freedom ! Grabbing one of the slavers Kizaru had brought back to Voltaire Island, he touched Uta's sleeping body, transforming the slaver into Shank's daughter. Grimacing, he snapped the neck the newly transformed slaver.
In the luxurious expanse of Dressrosa's royal palace, Diamante approached Donquixote Doflamingo with a weighty inquiry. "Doflamingo-sama, what of the marines in the final round of the colosseum? It's irregular for them to even step foot in the arena…"
Doflamingo, his gaze narrowing, responded with a smoldering intensity. "Yes, I'm aware. Typically, marines are barred from such engagements. However, these are the direct subordinates of Admiral Kizaru—the dog that murdered Trebol."
A cold smirk adorned Doflamingo's lips. "It's a golden opportunity for them to avenge their fallen comrade."
Diamante, seeking clarity, pressed further, "But what about the established rules? Disqualifying the marines is standard procedure."
Doflamingo's eyes glinted with a dangerous resolve. "Rules are tools, Diamante. They bend to our will when necessary. Let them partake in the spectacle, and in the final, let the arena serve as their execution ground. Since we cannot directly harm Kizaru, targeting his comrades is the next best retribution. Take care of them during the finals, Diamante. Perhaps… exempt Smoker; he's a rear-admiral and formidable. I don't want you meeting an untimely end. But as for Captains Sanji and Zoro? Make them suffer and ensure their demise…"
Diamante nodded, and was going to leave but…
"Wait ! I've got an even better idea !"
As Smoker, undercover as "Not-A-Marine," swaggered into the arena for the grand finale, he couldn't shake the feeling that the universe had a surprise in store for him. The first-round winners—Sanjo, Ziri, and the human wall of eccentricity, Bartolomeo—joined him in the ring. They would fight between themselves - and with Diamante - and the winner would earn Crocodile's Devil Fruit ! The atmosphere buzzed with excitement and uncertainty.
Just when Smoker thought he had a grip on the situation, Diamante, the arena hype-master, grabbed the mic like he was about to drop the hottest announcement of the century. Which, well, he was.
"Ladies and gentlemen, hold onto your hats because we've got a plot twist that's juicier than a Devil Fruit! The final showdown won't be against me or our first-round champs. Oh no, that would be too easy. They are too strong for lil' ol' me," Diamante grinned mischievously. "So, brace yourselves, because the one they're facing is none other than the man, the myth, the legend, your King—Donquixotte Doflamingo!"
The crowd's excitement morphed into a collective gasp, and a malicious energy seemed to seep into the arena as the malevolent-looking Doflamingo sauntered in. His stride exuded arrogance, and his dark sunglasses hid whatever intentions lurked behind his eyes.
Smoker's eyes widened as if he'd just seen a Sea King do stand-up. They had to fight against Doflamingo?
"So…You are the light-asshole little protégés ?"
Fuck his life.
Bathed in the glow of the sunlit square, Viola, the embodiment of allure among the Donquixote family, left the crowd breathless. Her statuesque figure, accentuated by a Flamenco gown that clung to her every curve, showcased legs that seemed to go on for miles—a tantalizing display of shapely perfection. The slightly wavy, dark brown locks, pulled back and adorned with a single rose, teased at a sensuality that was as mysterious as it was irresistible.
As her stiletto heels clicked out a rhythm that echoed the pulse of desire, the Flamenco dress became a canvas for passion. Violet polka dots and maroon frills traced the contours of her silhouette provocatively, accentuating the sway of her hips and the curve of her ample bosom. The air, thick with anticipation, crackled with an undeniable erotic tension.
In the background, a distant Flamenco guitar set the mood, casting a hypnotic spell that heightened the sensual atmosphere. The rose in Viola's hair brushed teasingly against the skin of her arms as she moved.
Earrings caught the sunlight with each enticing twirl, while Viola's dance became a choreography of desire—a spectacle of seduction that left the crowd enchanted. The Flamenco gown, a second skin, flirted shamelessly with the breeze, accentuating every inch of her voluptuous form.
As Viola immersed herself in the seductive movements of her Flamenco dance, the lively crowd surrounding her seemed to pulsate with energy. However, amidst the applause and cheers, the Giro Giro no Mi, her Paramecia-type Devil Fruit, betrayed her with glimpses into the unsavory thoughts of several men in the audience.
"…Wow…I so want to fuck her"…
Forming a circle with her thumb and index finger, Viola activated her power, tapping into the minds of the spectators. The atmosphere, once filled with the allure of her performance, took an uncomfortable turn as the unfiltered desires of different men reverberated in her consciousness.
"…What a bitch…I saw how my husband is looking at her, she should…"
She heard the crude fantasies and objectifying thoughts that echoed through the minds of those who watched her dance. The intimate details of their desires unfolded before her, each thought more repulsive than the last. It was as if the rhythm of their lascivious thoughts clashed with the elegance of her Flamenco.
"Ehe…M'lady…I'm a nice guy, If I show how polite I am, she is sure to suck m…"
Internally disgusted yet outwardly composed, Viola continued her dance, an enchanting spectacle that concealed the turmoil within. The men's crude intentions, laid bare by her Devil Fruit powers, underscored the complexity of her ability—it was both a tool for self-defense and an unwelcome intrusion into the darker recesses of human desire.
"…Mmmm… If I slice through Doflamingo today and Kaido tomorrow, I guess you could say I'm on a 'Warlord Diet' – cutting through the toughest foes, one day at a time! I am a Sushi Master !"
As she spun and twirled, Viola couldn't help but wonder…Wait, what ?
"…Well, if I overthrow the World Government, I suppose they'd have to find someone else to run in slow motion. Maybe a turtle? They do seem to take things at their own pace…"
Walking just before her was a strange man, with a fake golden moustache and a Yellow Suit.
But…Did he think something about overthrowing…Doflamingo ? Her oppressor ?
"Ah ! Dancing ! Too bad for her Disco is ontologically superior to tango.…Oh, isn't she the princess Violo, or something ?.."
"I am not a Princess anymore", she answered aloud.
"Well, you will be tomorrow !"
And the mysterious man left, like a mysterious man. Which he was - Violet was not very strong with comparison. Also, she thought she was not very strong with falling in love. She was wrong on one of the points, like a horse doing maths.
Sugar staged a full-blown melodramatic sulk, lamenting the departure of her former entertainment guru, Trebol. With him gone, she found herself stuck with Giolla, the artist whose idea of a good time was turning everything into a chaotic ugliness.
"Trebol, why did you have to leave me stranded in this sitcom of life?" Sugar groaned, her voice echoing dramatically. "Now I'm left with Giolla, who thinks TikTok dances and BTS concerts are the epitome of entertainment. Can you believe it?"
Observing Giolla enthusiastically incorporating dance moves into her latest art project, Sugar crinkled her nose. "I miss Trebol's slime shenanigans and his company, which was a bit slimy but at least it had pizzazz. Giolla's turning everything into a TikTok challenge, and my vibe is seriously out of sync."
"Well, don't worry ! For I am here ! The Master entertainer ! Admiral Kizaru !", said a strange man. Was he one of the men who gave candies to little girls, that Trebol talked about ?
And he knocked her out.
In the heart of Dressrosa, the clash between Doflamingo and the trio of Zoro, Sanji, and Smoker painted a chaotic tableau of steel and swift kicks.
Zoro's blades cut through the air, but Doflamingo, the master puppeteer, effortlessly danced through each strike, leaving a searing cut across Zoro's shoulder. "Is that the best you've got, Swordsman?"
Sanji, quick on his feet, unleashed a barrage of kicks, but Doflamingo's fluid movements redirected the attacks, delivering a brutal blow to Sanji's ribs. "Predictable as ever, Black Leg."
Smoker, the Iron Wall, released his smoke powers, but Doflamingo's threads sliced through the haze, leaving Smoker battered and bruised. "You're just making this too easy, Smoker ! ."
Doflamingo's laughter echoed, threads tightening around the trio like a vengeful serpent. "Time to bring this little dance to an end. As he readied the final, potentially fatal blow, Smoker's gaze widened in despair. Blood marked the trio's wounds, a testament to their struggle. But then, he was Law munching on popcorn on the audience. And it meant to things.
- One, Law was here - and he was supposed to be on a mission with Kizaru. If he was back, it meant that Kizaru was here. So they were not going to die - just be strongly humiliated but…
- Two, Law, the one who hated Doflamingo more than everything, was smiling. Widely.
Uh. Smoker wouldn't want to be the Warlord. What was Kizaru going to do to him ?
Then, all hell broke loose when all the toys transformed into humans.
"…Dad ?"
One of the toy even transformed into a giant and threw a punch at Diamante.
"…Gloria ! I missed you so much…"
And at least half of the toys began to attack Doflamingo's lackey.
A day later
Instructor Garp reclined in his chair, crumbs of cookies scattered like fallen breadcrumbs around him. Munching contentedly, he seemed entirely absorbed in the sugary delights that occupied his attention. Inspector Sengoku, sitting beside him with a stack of newspapers, observed Garp's blissful indulgence before clearing his throat to catch the attention of the ever-jovial instructor.
"Hey, Garp, put down those cookies for a second and lend me your ear. I've got something interesting here," Sengoku announced, waving a newspaper in the air. Garp, with a playful glint in his eye, obliged and set the cookies aside, ready to indulge in a different kind of news.
With a subtle nod, Inspector Sengoku began reading aloud an article detailing the remarkable prowess of Admiral Kizaru. His baritone voice echoed through the room, recounting the admiral's revelation of a conspiracy orchestrated by the Warlord Donquixotte Doflamingo. The plot involved the enslavement of the royal family Riku in the Kingdom of Dressrosa, an intrigue that sent shockwaves through the world of pirates and marines alike.
"Listen to that : Admiral Kizaru, armed with determination and his famous unyielding sense of justice, unraveled the machinations of Doflamingo, liberated the citizens and royals ensnared by a mysterious Devil Fruit power." The tale crescendoed with the decisive execution of the nefarious Warlord.
Sengoku proceeded to read the testimonials of the liberated citizens. Their voices, captured in ink on the newsprint, painted a vivid picture of the terror they had endured under Doflamingo's reign and the overwhelming gratitude and admiration they held for Admiral Kizaru.
"They're saying how frightening Doflamingo was, and how Kizaru swooped in like a shining savior." Sengoku emphasized, reading aloud the citizens' expressions of gratitude, recounting Kizaru's valiant efforts that had restored their freedom. The citizens' testimonials resonated with a genuine sense of relief and reverence for the admiral, who had basically attained demigod status in Dressrosa.
"Good riddance to that fucker Doflamingo. The world's better off without that scoundrel." Garp's eyes, though stern, betrayed a hint of uneasiness. "Even if he was an horrible guy and was banished, he's still kin of the Saints. Let's hope those Celestial Dragons don't get their haughty heads in a twist over this. Kizaru's a damn good marine; the world needs him, and the marines sure as hell do too."
Law, dressed in an ensemble that screamed "I'm here to party," twirled glow sticks with a level of enthusiasm that would make Buggy the Clown proud. By his side were two bizarre sidekicks - apparently bakers from the north blue he knew from before join gin the Marine — and if that wasn't surreal enough, a talking polar bear had waltzed into the scene, donning sunglasses and showing off moves that would put even the most seasoned dance instructors to shame. Law, reveling in the joyful moment, clinked his drink with the polar bear, as if to say, "Cheers to Doflamingo's death !"
"I see that Dark Sasuke transformed into Light Sasuke…Or should I call you…Naruto! And you did not even wait for the god of Disco before starting the party!"
And the Admiral started to dance. And, gods, he danced well.