Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece

While working on my fanfiction before this one I kept thinking of what would be a fanfiction to work on while my collaboration partner was recovering; took some time but we are managing more comic pages together. Then, even though I've rewritten this story before, why not make a story on the most reliable nakama in all my One Piece fanfictions: Christopher.

When I first wrote him-in One Piece Ultimate Adventure-he was just a bandit defeated by an old character no longer in any of my fanfictions, Supaiku, that decided to join Fletcher's crew. One hundred pages later he started to grow on me.

Now I hope to give him the respect he deserves. Thank you.

XXX

Crab Refugee Island

Nets were mined in the forest of the island-hunter's hoping a prey would step in it and be captured. What they were hunting wasn't elk, or pig or even rabbits. The hunters intended to capture wolves with their nets. Sure, wolves had matted fur, lots of rough sinew in their skin, were fast on their feet and their aptitude for hunting was beyond most human's understanding. So why were they so enlivened to capture them when wolves wouldn't go near a city beckoning with lights and a flurry of people doing their jobs? Any visitor who heard about this hunt would have to cock their heads to the one and only mansion on the island; asking the headman of the house why he supported those who brought him the heads of the wolves captured and killed.

His name was Kobrin Dartz. He was a very tall man without being born with long limbs like many others from West Blue to Redline.

His skin was tanned with orange faceted eyes in the shape of gemstones always glistening light too bright for people to stare too long at. He wore a black jacket with a green shirt and a gold chain around his neck with four paws sticking out in parallels to one another: dragon, tiger, turtle, phoenix. For pants he wore army green trousers.

He was sitting for an hour after fourteen hours of just standing advising, working, and fulfilling much construction work. He was ensconced most of the year, but today he was visited by uninvited guests: women he slept with.

They all had pretty, unblemished, almost porcelain faces with violet, fiery red, wavy blonde, and bobcut black hair and hourglass figurines not to mention dresses on matching their hairs. In their hands were cradles with babies sleeping peacefully.

Despite how beautiful they were and how he had history with these four, he immediately blinked his eyes alerting his guards. They appeared with long knives with handles carved from maple trees. They were all suddenly terrified of what this man would do; they don't remember him being sensitive and understanding on their one and only date(s).

He approached all of them, his lips smooth and rubbery trying to find the right way to smile at them. He looked down at the four of them and he sniffed the air around them. The girls closed their eyes for what happened next, they could already see before it happened.

All four of the babies were crushed by him in front of them. They thought they would also be killed with them, felt cold steel burn hot when it nicked them under the fold of their cheeks. He left a small laceration in them-he cared more about them than the baby's.

They were his; they weren't trying to deceive him. How could they deceive a man whose bad side could wipe out several navy vessels by himself? All they wanted was to bring their babies to him to show they could work together as his concubines-maybe even take all four of them as his wives.

This man-this bastard who showed them his true colors-didn't even have the gull to look at them after murdering his children. He turned around and walked out the door.

He walked out to his garden. Lots of two headed flamingo's and pig cyclops roaming around getting ready for what nature intended for them. All around, at a good distance, there were pikes with wolf heads erected everywhere. They were there for so long even the flies were starting to encompass what were once full of felicity and adventure.

He found no solidarity at his throne, so he thought this would be a good place to finally find some peace and quiet...

How wrong he turned out to be.

"WHAAAHHAHAHAWWHAHAHWAWWHAHAHWHA!"

Noise in his private garden? He flitted to the sound, found what looked like a baby swaddled in white textile, lurched it around to see its face, noticed he had eyes much like his own only not as rough.

Instead of lifting it with his arms he used his leg.

Kobrin raised the baby up to his chin, looked at whatever gender it was hidden under the loincloth acting as a diaper, and pulled his leg from under the baby letting it fall to the ground-did his thing just as fast as his leg letting it go.

He didn't let this baby suffer the same fate those others did. The baby was soon safe in the arms of Kobrin. He cradled him the best he could; actually smiling at him. That smile made the baby stop crying.

Whether the baby knew it or not this would be the man who'd make him someone much like him.

"Your name is Christopher. And you...you are my son. My blood is in your blood, and I'm going to kill the bitch who left you on the ground like a snail."

XXX

Seventeen years later

Sunpar Enclave...

Over eighty percent of people on islands workday and night trying to make a good living, have a very good salary and tips to eat well and pray for the longevity of their families.

But they were all no-name people with no idea real progress isn't found working for someone other than yourself. Christopher Dartz, seventeen, knew all about this...he came to this island to harm many not among the eighty percent.

He killed three people in their hotel room. A trio, two men and one woman, who signed their own obituaries no one was going to read because two of them were just like him while the other was a seductress bringing their targets to them. Very easy to lull them into making their famous moves on him...

First he played a game of mahjong as slowly as possible with an elder wasting decades of saving on these poker games. He thought Christopher was going easy on him because he reminded him of a grandfather of his, but really he was just watching the tables to see which ones he was most likely to win in-and the ones those three were watching. He eventually found one so he stopped letting the man seeing things idyllically and beat him in one move.

Winning the next round of poker was easy, trying to sound older to make the girl think his stature was caused by smoking was a lot harder. She eventually got comfortable enough to take him to her hotel room.

Once she showed him the room, he didn't hesitate to stab his katana right through her chest. He didn't move her body yet, backtracked his way down the stairs and out the hotel to find the window leaving to the room.

He used his Devil Fruit powers to elongate his tongue sticking to the window. He killed her in a way not much blood would splatter over the walls, but what he was going to do next was going to be an absolute bloodbath.

And then-he retched from his mouth before being propelled towards the window. His trajectory was spot on, he flew right through the window surprising the two sons of bitches inside.

He managed to slash a clean slit through the jugular of one while he was too surprised to react. The other came at him boiling with adrenaline and rage, wielding a broadsword like a knight. Christopher kept his blade clean and reforged before any assassination, but his thin blade would break against the steel of that sword.

There were many ways to kill someone-fighting them in a duel head-on was the least likely way to win. So he retched again and shot a needle from his mouth that flew right in his forehead.

The point wasn't enough to penetrate the skull, however, it was laced with a very deadly poison. All he could do was stare like a board with googly eyes before falling down. They were all dead, he thought they should all be in the same room when he finished his job, so he opened the door and pulled the cold lifeless seductress inside.

Like clutter in a room he could get rid of the blood and the bodies. Instead, he figured no one does a whole investigation of a triple murder without looking through the lives of the victims. When they find out what these three have been doing, they'll assume one of them got greedy or went crazy and went against their own accomplices.

Too many occupants in the hotel for him to leave out the front door and two many spectators to leave through the window. He couldn't escape their eyes either way, but he could find a way to redirect their attention. He grabbed one of their bodies and lifted it over his head. He could raise this body over his head for two minutes at most, backtracked to the door that so many unfortunate victims and murders came in through-unless they changed rooms for every victim. He planted his feet firmly on the door, took vigorous breaths of air trying to control his adrenaline so he didn't collapse...

He felt a little lightheaded when he finally dashed towards the window falling to the ground. He felt a different kind of rush to his face over the adrenaline of lifting a heavy man. Like any unfortunate soul whose fallen out of a building he was aware at the bottom after he stopped falling was death. He was falling; he wouldn't be landing.

There was enough people focused on the falling body that no one noticed him sticking his elongated tongue out to the wall before pulling himself towards the wall, and when his feet touched the wall just ran like hell to get to the next fish 'n' tackle store.

He jumped, pulled himself to the store, let go before reaching the store landing carefully on the ground.

Now he was looking ahead ignoring the onslaught of people heading the way he just came from to surround the body. He swerved into another restaurant where the owner was an overweight man with a bald head, light brown skin, big red lips mixed with his small crimson eyes, carrying a spiked metal club in his right hand with an apron around his chest. There was a little bit of Christopher's father simmering beneath that facade this man was a simple chef.

"Just you?" The man rudely remarked. "This isn't some hangout for you, kid. I have to clean every table after someone uses them. If it's just you..." He lowered his bat to Christopher's tendon, playfully tapping it again and again, lightly, seeing if his brain could get the message. "You picked the wrong restaurant, kid."

"I'm not here to eat." The younger, skinner boy said calmly with an almost robotic voice. "Please let me see a menu."

The guy looked at him like a teacher when their students got into trouble, now he was just howling with laughter at him like a bully picking on a scrawny kid. To be an even bigger ass in the boys' eyes, he picked up a menu from the table and waved it while his mouth was open so wide he could almost eat it. Then he put it down as the smile turned into a frown melding with his glare. He stomped towards him now, standing on his hind legs to appear taller and more intimidating than he really was.

"Didn't you hear me?! Get out before I break every bone in your stupid body!"

Christopher used his thumb to pick out dirt in his middle finger-middle finger-in his right hand while the cook was looking him with the worst kind of murderous intent, rage. He honored his wishes turning around and walking away. He may not get to touch a menu or leave a little speck on it showing the deed was done, but he could fleck the speck with his tongue controlling it with more forte thanks to his Devil Fruit powers.

However, his plan was interrupted by someone else stepping through the front door.

She was pink haired with two curved strands jutting from under her ghostly white straw hat, melded white mascara under her hat was just sinking into her skin with her lip's bright red, wore black amber tinted sunglasses, a tawny dress with a hexagonal black badge on her right breast, and above all she cackled with a bubbly personality.

"Did you manage to save us a seat, darling?" She sang.

Christopher swiveled around looking the rude chef in his eyes the same way they glared at him. He didn't know who this girl was, an inkling of intuition telling him she wasn't involved in his assassination mission, but even a coldhearted man like him could fathom how this could make the rude chef feel embarrassed.

"I tried; he just thinks I came on my lonesome. Could you, sir, get me and my girlfriend a seat now?"

He starred at Christopher and the girl with wide eyes and his lips just hanging down slightly showing his teeth in contrast to how he juddered his mouth forcibly trying to laugh him away. He managed to get over his initial shock, bowed to them, and escorted them to a table.

The girl immediately clasped her hand around Christopher's arm. She was strong, like a fish-men's jaws trying to clamp down through his sinews and flesh. He flitted his attention to her...she had a more menacing look on her face, an unruly smile with malicious intent.

"I see specks of the walls of a hotel where a man jumped out a window on your shoes. You wouldn't happen to be his assassin...because if you are we have much to discuss."