Chapter 9: Even the Best Plans…

Onboard the marine frigate anchored on the outskirts of Cocoyashi Village, Commodore Nelson Royale lounged on his oversized, makeshift throne, his pig-like eyes glinting with greed and anticipation. The deck was bustling with activity as marines moved about, preparing for whatever was to come. Nelson had gathered every marine under his command, amassing a small army on the deck, ready to pounce on the spoils of war.

The commodore took a bite of a massive roasted leg, the juices dribbling down his double chin as he chewed with a disgusting slurp. "Heh… they'll kill each other off like the dumb beasts they are," he muttered to himself, barely pausing to breathe between bites. "And when it's all over, I'll sweep in and finish off whoever's left. A win-win for me."

He laughed at his own cleverness, but the laughter quickly turned into a wheezing cough. A piece of food lodged in his throat, and for a moment, he panicked, flailing his thick arms. His face reddened, and his chins jiggled furiously until he managed to spit out the offending piece. He wheezed, wiping his mouth with a greasy sleeve, and chuckled again, this time more cautiously. "Damn fishmen and pirates… they'll never see it coming," he muttered, eyeing his marines.

He looked over the assembled ranks, his voice booming over the deck. "Stay sharp, men! We're not jumping in until it's all over. Whoever wins will be tired, weak. That's when we strike! And we'll be the ones to reap the rewards!"

The marines nodded, some nervously, some with grim determination. They knew the commodore's plan was opportunistic and ruthless, but they also knew better than to question his orders. They watched the village from a distance, waiting for the chaos to begin.

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The moon hung high in the night sky, casting an eerie glow over the quiet village. The atmosphere was tense, the air thick with anticipation. The villagers peered cautiously from their windows, their hearts pounding in their chests as they watched the confrontation unfold in the middle of the street.

Arlong and his crew stood at one end, their large forms casting menacing shadows under the moonlight. Arlong himself towered above his subordinates, his saw-like nose glinting in the dim light. Behind him, his remaining crew members—Hachi, Pisaro, and the others—formed a line of formidable, battle-ready fighters. Their eyes were filled with hatred and the promise of violence.

On the opposite side, Draven stood with Nojiko at his side. The two of them seemed so small in comparison, but there was a quiet confidence in their stance that sent a ripple of uncertainty through the fishmen.

Arlong's lips curled into a mocking grin as he looked down at Draven. "A human kid thinks he can challenge me?" he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "You should know your place in the food chain, boy. Humans are weak, pathetic. You should be kneeling, begging for mercy."

Draven met Arlong's gaze with a calm, fearless intensity. He shifted into a fighting stance, his muscles coiled and ready. "Maybe a fish should know its place, too," he taunted, his voice low and confident. "No matter how big you are, you're still just a fish."

Arlong's grin faltered, his eyes narrowing. "You've got a big mouth for someone who's about to be gutted," he growled, his temper flaring.

Without another word, Arlong lunged forward, his massive, clawed hand slicing through the air with murderous intent. Draven was ready, though, his eyes sharp as he sidestepped the attack, feeling the gust of wind from the fishman's swing. In one fluid motion, Draven retaliated, driving his fist straight into the side of Arlong's face with a sickening thud. The impact sent a shockwave up Draven's arm and made Arlong stagger, but the fishman quickly recovered, a wicked grin spreading across his bloodied lips.

"You're stronger than you look," Arlong spat, his sharp teeth gleaming. He wiped a smear of blood from his lip with the back of his hand. "But I'm just getting warmed up."

The ground shuddered under the force of their battle, tremors rippling through the village as the fight exploded into savage chaos. Arlong swung his massive fists, each strike aimed to crush Draven where he stood. His saw-like nose sliced through the air with murderous precision, capable of shredding through solid stone. Each attack carried with it the force to pulverize everything in its path, but Draven was too quick. He moved like a predator, his body weaving and dodging with cold, calculated precision.

Blood sprayed through the air as Draven's fists met the fishman's scaly flesh, each punch digging deep into Arlong's thick hide. The blows reverberated, smashing into bone and muscle with sickening cracks. Draven's knuckles split open on impact, painting Arlong's bruised and cracked scales with streaks of blood—his blood, mingling with the fishman's own.

Arlong roared in fury, his eyes bloodshot as he swung wildly, missing Draven by inches. Draven's next punch connected with Arlong's jaw, and the force of the blow sent a spray of teeth and blood flying from the fishman's mouth, splattering the ground in crimson. The sound of shattering bone echoed through the air as Arlong staggered back, blood pouring from his lips, his sharp teeth glinting through the mess of broken gums and mangled flesh.

But Arlong was relentless. With a furious snarl, he lashed out again, his massive fists tearing through the air with brutal strength. Draven sidestepped the attack, but the gust of wind from Arlong's swing was enough to send debris flying in every direction. The village around them shook as their battle raged on, the violent clash of flesh, bone, and blood shaking the very ground beneath their feet.

From the sidelines, Nojiko watched, her heart pounding in her chest. She had expected Draven to be strong, but this… this was beyond anything she could have imagined. Yet, her eyes narrowed, the chaos of the fight swirling in slow motion as she tapped into the strange power of her Devil Fruit's "first gear." Every punch, every dodge was magnified, allowing her to study Draven's every move. She could see Arlong's monstrous fists slicing through the air, the bulging veins under his tough skin, and Draven dodging with impossible speed. It was as if time had slowed for her, heightening her awareness of the fight and the brutal carnage unfolding before her eyes.

She also kept her eyes on the rest of the fishman crew, waiting for them to join the fray. It wasn't long before they did.

Hachi and the rest of the fishmen, eager to prove themselves to their captain, charged forward with a roar, leading the remaining fishmen into the fight. Nojiko's eyes narrowed, the power of the Soku Soku no Mi already surging within her. "Time to see what this fruit can really do," she whispered to herself.

With a blur of motion, Nojiko sprang into action, staying in her "first gear" to conserve energy. Her muscles still ached from the strain of using her second gear earlier in the night, and she knew better than to push herself too soon. Moving like a bolt of lightning, she zigzagged between the attacking fishmen with ease. She aimed a solid punch at one of the nameless fishmen's faces, and to her surprise, her hand didn't hurt at all. It seemed the Devil Fruit not only granted her incredible speed but also protected her against the forces generated by her own velocity.

A smile spread across her face as she continued her rampage, moving in and out of the enemy lines with blinding speed. The fishmen couldn't keep up. One by one, they fell to her swift, powerful strikes. Hachi tried to counter her with his many swords, spinning in a cyclone in order to fend her off. But she danced around his attacks effortlessly, delivering a flurry of blows that left him dazed and stumbling.

During Nojiko's display of dominance against the other fishmen, Arlong's fury only deepened. He realized he was at a severe disadvantage, and the thought of losing to a human—a boy, no less—filled him with rage. Desperate, Arlong reached into his pocket, his hand trembling with anger, and pulled out a red and blue checkered pill.

Draven's eyes widened in recognition. "Energy Steroids…" he muttered under his breath, watching as Arlong swallowed it with a wicked grin.

Arlong's muscles bulged grotesquely, his veins popping as the drug coursed through his system. His grin twisted into something feral, something monstrous. "You'll regret ever coming to MY island, boy."

The two charged at each other, fists colliding in a shockwave of power. For a moment, they were evenly matched. Arlong's massive, clawed hands struck out like hammers, but Draven blocked and dodged with practiced precision. His fists found their mark, slamming into Arlong's face and torso with enough force to make the fishman stagger.

Each punch landed with the force of a moving train, bones creaking under the strain of their relentless blows. Draven's fists smashed into Arlong's thick scales, but Arlong barely flinched, his hardened body absorbing the impact like a stone wall. With a guttural snarl, Arlong swung back, his massive fist crashing into Draven's ribs with a sickening crunch, sending him skidding across the ground. But the boy refused to fall.

Blood and sweat mixed on Draven's brow as he regained his footing, wiping the crimson from his lip with the back of his hand. He lunged forward, his fists pounding into Arlong's jaw with bone-rattling force, making the fishman's blood spray like a crimson mist. Arlong staggered back but retaliated with a brutal backhand, the blow connecting with Draven's temple and snapping his head to the side. Draven's vision blurred for a moment, the taste of iron filling his mouth, but he spat out a mouthful of blood and rushed forward again.

The two fighters circled each other, their breaths ragged, their bodies covered in blood and sweat. Draven could feel his muscles screaming in agony, every fiber of his being begging him to stop, but he ignored the pain. He pressed on, his fists flying in a vicious flurry. He landed a brutal series of punches to Arlong's gut, each blow sinking deep into the fishman's abdomen, making him grunt in pain. The sound of cracking ribs filled the air as Draven's fists broke through Arlong's defenses, blood oozing from the fishman's mouth with each ragged breath.

Arlong's fury was palpable, radiating from his hulking form like heat from a roaring fire. The fact that a mere boy—a human—had matched him blow for blow, even after he'd taken one Energy Steroid, was a humiliation he couldn't stomach. His sharp teeth ground together, his eyes wild with unrestrained rage. This was impossible. This boy should have been crushed already.

"You're nothing! A filthy human!" Arlong snarled, his voice cracking with fury. His pride, his monstrous strength—none of it had been enough to put Draven down. It was like salt in a festering wound.

The fishman's hand shot into his pocket, trembling with anger, and he yanked out the bag of red and blue checkered pills. Without hesitation—without any thought of the consequences—he tore the bag open, his rage blinding him to anything but his burning need to crush Draven under his heel.

Draven's eyes widened as they locked onto the bag. "This fucking idiot…" he whispered, the disbelief in his voice edged with a hint of fear. He knew what those pills could do. One had already given Arlong a terrifying boost in strength, and now, he was going to take the rest? The sheer recklessness of it was insane.

With a guttural growl, Arlong poured the remaining pills into his mouth, swallowing them all in one grotesque gulp. His body convulsed violently, his muscles bulging grotesquely as the steroids surged through his veins like wildfire. His skin stretched, veins pulsing, popping beneath the surface. His eyes burned with a manic, frenzied light as the power surged within him, completely overwhelming what little reason he had left.

Arlong's lips curled into a wicked, unhinged grin. "I'll tear you apart, boy!" he bellowed, his voice deep and guttural, full of uncontrollable bloodlust.

Before Draven could react, Arlong lunged with terrifying speed, his grotesquely swollen muscles bulging as he charged forward. His fist collided with Draven's chest with the force of a battering ram, sending him flying through the air. Draven's body slammed into the wall of a nearby house, the impact shattering the wooden planks and sending splinters flying. He hit the ground hard, gasping for air as pain shot through his ribs.

Clenching his jaw, Draven forced himself to his feet, but before he could even catch his breath, Arlong was on him again. This time, the fishman's massive clawed hand swung at Draven's head with deadly precision. Draven ducked just in time, but Arlong's follow-up punch connected with his ribs, the force of it cracking bone and sending him crashing back to the ground. The taste of blood filled Draven's mouth, and he coughed, spitting red onto the dirt beneath him.

Arlong's laughter boomed through the village. "Is this all you've got, boy?!" he taunted, looming over Draven like a predator over wounded prey. His muscles rippled grotesquely, swollen from the Energy Steroids. "You're nothing!"

Draven's vision swam, but he forced himself to his feet, staggering. His body was screaming in pain, each breath a sharp reminder of his cracked ribs. Blood dripped from a gash on his forehead, running down his face in thick rivulets, but his eyes remained locked on Arlong, blazing with defiance.

Arlong sneered and swung again, his massive fist barreling toward Draven. Draven barely managed to block it, but the force of the blow sent shockwaves through his arms, nearly breaking them. He staggered back, his legs shaking from the effort to remain standing.

Before he could even catch his breath, Arlong was on him again, landing a brutal punch to his gut. Draven doubled over, gasping for air as the wind was knocked from his lungs. Another punch came down hard on his back, driving him into the dirt. The ground shook with the force of the impact, and Draven's body screamed in agony as his bones cracked under the pressure.

"Pathetic!" Arlong spat, looming over him, his eyes gleaming with bloodlust. "You think you can stand against me? You're just a human—a weak, pathetic human!"

Draven coughed, blood spilling onto the ground in thick, crimson droplets. His body screamed in agony, every bone in his chest threatening to crack under the pressure of each breath. His muscles felt like they were on fire, and his vision blurred at the edges, but still—he moved.

With a low, guttural growl, he pressed his hands against the dirt, forcing his trembling body upward. His arms shook violently, barely able to hold his weight, but his will was unshakable. Each inch upward was a war against the pain, but Draven was relentless. His legs wobbled and his ribs burned with every breath.

Giving up was not an option though.

Draven's willpower was a force unto itself, like an unbreakable chain that tethered him to the world. It didn't matter how many bones broke, how much blood he spilled. His body could be battered, but his spirit was unyielding. He wasn't going to let a brute like Arlong take him down. He had trained too hard to let pain—let failure—define him now.

With a grunt of pure defiance, Draven staggered to his feet, his legs barely holding him upright. His breaths were ragged, his body broken, but his eyes—his eyes burned with a fire that could not be extinguished.

Arlong's eyes narrowed in fury. "You should have stayed down," he growled. Without warning, he lashed out, his foot slamming into Draven's side, sending him flying across the ground. Draven's body skidded to a halt, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. His entire body felt like it was on fire, his bones cracked and most likely broken, but still, he pushed himself back up, staggering to his feet.

Meanwhile, Nojiko had finished off the last of the fishmen. Each one had been unable to keep up with her blinding speed, their bodies crumpling to the ground with a few well-placed strikes. Now, she turned her attention back to Draven, watching in horror as Arlong relentlessly pummeled him.

Even though her body was wracked with pain, her muscles twitching from the strain of her new powers, she knew she had to act. Her heart raced as she prepared herself for the move. In "first gear," she could see the perfect opening—the moment when Arlong would drop his guard, however briefly. She just needed to be fast enough.

And then it happened.

Arlong swung wide, his rage making him sloppy for just a split second. Nojiko saw her chance.

In an instant, she tapped into her "second gear." The world around her seemed to crawl, as if time itself had nearly frozen. Every detail sharpened with painful clarity—the rustle of the wind, the shifting dust beneath her feet, the beads of sweat rolling off her skin. To her heightened senses, even the mighty Arlong moved at a sluggish pace, his every movement painstakingly slow.

She shot forward, her body a blur of motion, tearing through the air with breathtaking speed. It was more than just a rush; it felt like she was on the edge of reality, watching the world around her lag far behind. Every heartbeat, every second stretched into an eternity, and in that frozen moment, she felt unstoppable as she moved towards Arlong.

She appeared in front of the towering fishman in less than a blink of an eye, her fist already drawn back. She poured all her speed, all her strength into the punch, driving her fist deep into Arlong's side. The force of the blow was like a meteor striking flesh. Arlong's eyes bulged in shock, blood spraying from his mouth as he staggered backward, his massive body quaking from the impact.

Nojiko collapsed to the ground, her body shaking violently from the strain. Her muscles screamed in agony, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She had given everything she had in that one hit, and now she could only watch as Draven took control.

Draven, seeing the opening, forced his battered body to move. Every fiber of his being screamed in agony—muscles torn, bones cracking under the weight of every step—but still, he surged forward, driven by the unrelenting need to finish this. Blood seeped from countless wounds, dripping down his arms, but he pushed through it all, sprinting toward Arlong like a man possessed.

Arlong, still reeling from Nojiko's devastating blow, struggled to regain control. His vision blurred, his hulking frame wavering as he tried to rise. A guttural growl escaped his throat as he tried to swing his massive arm in Draven's direction, but his movements were slow, disoriented. He never saw the attack coming.

With explosive speed, Draven closed the gap between them. His breath came in ragged gasps, but his eyes were sharp, locked on his target. Arlong's bulging, bloodshot eyes flickered with a brief moment of recognition—fear. He tried to lash out, but it was too late. Draven was already on him.

With a primal roar, Draven leaped, fingers hooking into Arlong's eye sockets with savage precision. The fishman let out a blood-curdling scream, his body thrashing as Draven's fingers dug deeper, tearing through flesh. Blood gushed from Arlong's face, hot and thick, splattering across Draven's chest as he twisted, pulling with every ounce of strength he had left.

"YOU—LITTLE—!" Arlong's scream was cut short by a sound that made the air itself shudder—a wet, tearing noise as Draven ripped the fishman's eyes clean from their sockets. The raw brutality of it sent a ripple of silence through the village, the sheer horror of what had just happened hanging in the air.

Blood sprayed like a fountain from Arlong's ruined face, his once-terrifying eyes reduced to gaping, empty holes. His massive hands clawed at the air, grasping blindly as he staggered, screaming in agony. Draven showed no mercy. Fueled by a cocktail of rage and adrenaline, he launched into a feral onslaught, his fists crashing into Arlong's body with a brutality that defied reason.

Each punch was more savage than the last. Draven's fists pummeled Arlong's face, his chest, his throat, bone splintering beneath the relentless assault. Blood sprayed from the fishman's shattered jaw, his grotesquely swollen muscles rippling as they tried to absorb the blows—but they couldn't. They were deflating now, the effects of the Energy Steroids wearing off, leaving Arlong vulnerable.

Draven's knuckles were already split open, skin peeling back as he delivered punch after punch, each strike reverberating through the ground like the crash of a sledgehammer. Arlong's body crumpled beneath him, each breath a labored, ragged gasp, blood and spit pouring from his ruined mouth with every impact.

But Draven didn't stop. He wouldn't stop. Not until every last ounce of life had been drained from his enemy. His arms burned, his bones actually snapping under the pressure, but he kept going, the sound of flesh and bone breaking under his fists like music to his ears.

"DIE!" Draven roared, his voice raw and feral, echoing through the shattered remains of the village.

With one final, bone-shattering punch, he drove his fist into Arlong's throat. The sickening sound of his windpipe collapsing filled the air. Arlong's body jerked violently, his hands clawing at the ground, trying to breathe. Blood gurgled from his lips, his chest heaving as his lungs collapsed. Then, with a final, choked gasp, his body went limp.

Draven stood over the fishman's lifeless corpse, his chest heaving with exhaustion. Blood—Arlong's blood—dripped from his fingers, mixing with his own as it soaked into the earth beneath him. His vision blurred, the world around him fading into nothing but the sound of his own ragged breaths. It was over.

They had won, even with the surprise of the Energy Steroids. Draven was too exhausted to think about it now, but the question of how Arlong had gotten his hands on those pills would linger in his mind for later.

Nojiko, still on the ground, watched with wide eyes as Draven delivered the final blow. Relief flooded through her, and a weary smile spread across her face. "We did it…" she whispered, her body still trembling from exhaustion.

Nami, who had been watching from the safety of the house, burst out with tears streaming down her face. "You did it!" she cried, rushing to her sister's side. She dropped to her knees and hugged Nojiko tightly, relief and joy mingling in her sobs. "I can't believe it… it's finally over!"

Draven took a step back, his adrenaline finally beginning to fade. The pain in his body returned with a vengeance, but he couldn't help but smile. "Yeah… it's over," he said, his voice hoarse. "Arlong's finished."

The villagers, who had been cowering in their homes, slowly emerged. They stared in shock at the scene before them—their oppressor, Arlong, lying dead at the feet of the young stranger who had come to their aid. Whispers spread through the crowd, and then, one by one, they began to cheer. The nightmare that had plagued them for so long was finally over.

Onboard the Marine Frigate

Commodore Nelson peered through his spyglass, his greedy eyes widening as the battle unfolded. "What in the hell…?" he muttered, watching in disbelief as Draven delivered the final, devastating blow to Arlong. "That brat actually did it!"

For a moment, a look of genuine shock crossed his bloated face, but it quickly gave way to a twisted grin. "Well, well… looks like things just got more interesting," he wheezed, stuffing another piece of roasted meat into his mouth. "Men! Prepare to move in! We'll mop up what's left and claim this victory for the Marines!"

The marines on deck moved to obey, scrambling to get into formation. Commodore Nelson, still seated on his oversized throne, laughed so hard he almost choked again. "They'll never see it coming," he muttered between bites. "This village and its hero are mine now…"

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Back in the village, as the cheers of the villagers echoed around them, Draven did not know that their fight wasn't over yet. The Marines would be coming soon, and they wouldn't let such an opportunity pass by.

For now, though, they had a moment of victory, a moment of hope. Draven looked out over the crowd, bloodied but triumphant, knowing that this was only the beginning of his legacy. He knew his path was that of a tyrant, a conqueror. But being the Hero every now and again was a uniquely pleasant experience.

AN: First REAL fight for Draven. I'd love some feedback. How will he be able to handle the marines that are coming? He's on his last legs right now… and Arlong didn't have those pills in canon, right?? Wtf is going on!?