Chapter 236: Dressrosa - 10
The streets of the lower residential district were eerily quiet. Most of the citizens had either fled the sudden tremors or were weeping in the streets as their memories returned.
Kin’emon sprinted down a paved alleyway, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Behind him, Brook bounded with light, weightless steps, while Momonosuke scrambled to keep up, clutching his small wooden training katana.
"Kanjuro!" Kin’emon called out, his deep voice bouncing off the stone walls. "Where have they taken you, my friend?"
"Kin’emon-san, please slow down!" Brook said, his skull rattling slightly. "We must remain cautious. The city is currently crawling with Doflamingo’s subordinates. Though I do not have eyes to see them—Yo-ho-ho!"
"We cannot tarry, Brook-dono!" Kin’emon replied, scanning the rooftops. "Kanjuro is imprisoned somewhere within this wretched city. We must find him before Doflamingo realizes the country is collapsing!"
"A-Ah! Kin’emon! Brook!" Momonosuke whimpered, pointing a trembling finger forward. "Look there!"
Standing at the end of the alleyway was an exceptionally large, round woman. She wore a tight, garish leopard-print dress, massive green sunglasses, and held an artist’s palette in one hand and a giant paintbrush in the other. Her hair curled outward like dried clay.
Giolla, an elite officer of the Donquixote Family’s Trebol Army, puffed on a cigarette and sneered at the trio.
"Ah, the rat-pirates have finally crawled out of their holes!" Giolla cackled, waving her paintbrush. "I was sent to secure your ship but the damn vessel was nowhere to be found! No matter. Finding you pests here is an even better canvas!"
"Who is this strange, rotund painting woman?" Kin’emon demanded, drawing his sword.
"Art is not strange! Art is life! Art is pain!" Giolla screamed, her face contorting in artistic fury. She dipped her giant paintbrush into a swirling, neon cloud of paint hovering in the air. "Behold my masterpiece! Art Art Dying Art!"
She swung her brush. A massive wave of rainbow-colored, viscous gas erupted from the bristles, instantly flooding the narrow alleyway.
"Momonosuke-sama! Get behind me!" Kin’emon yelled, stepping in front of the young heir. He swung his sword, attempting to use his Fox-Fire style to burn through the gas.
But the gas was not physical fire or smoke. It was a conceptual wave. The moment the colorful mist touched Kin’emon’s sword, the steel warped, flattening into a jagged, abstract piece of cardboard. Kin’emon’s arms stretched and bent, his skin turning into a cubist nightmare of sharp angles and mismatched colors.
"What... what is this?!" Kin’emon gasped. He looked down at his torso. He had been turned into a walking, modern-art caricature, his face resembling a painting by Picasso.
Beside him, Momonosuke wailed. His small body had morphed into a strange, clay-like sculpture of a deformed dragon, unable to stand on his own feet.
"Bwahaha! Look at you!" Giolla laughed hysterically, pointing her brush at them. "You are beautiful! You are abstract! Now, stay still while I paint your final—"
She stopped. Her jaw dropped behind her green sunglasses.
Brook stood in the middle of the colorful gas. He was completely unaffected.
"My, what a lovely breeze," Brook said, casually dusting off his black gentleman’s coat.
"How?!" Giolla shrieked, stamping her foot. "My Art-Art power affects everything it touches! Why aren’t you a beautiful watercolor painting?!"
Brook looked down at his hands. To the naked eye, his bones looked like normal, aged human skeleton bones—dry, white, and brittle. But beneath that illusion lay something entirely different.
"I am afraid my bones are far too stubborn for your paint, madam," Brook said. He placed a hand on the cane sword at his hip. "You see, my friend Ben did some... custom tailoring to my bones. Your art simply cannot stick to my canvas."
"D-Die, you freak!" Giolla screamed, throwing a flurry of explosive paint globes at him. "Mural Splash!"
Brook didn’t even draw his sword. He simply stepped forward.
Clack.
He moved with the weightless speed of a soul. He bypassed the paint globes entirely. He passed Giolla in a single, silent stride.
"Humming Three-Step: Arrow Notch Slash," Brook whispered.
He slid his blade back into his cane. A sharp click echoed through the alleyway.
SLICE.
An invisible, freezing cut opened across Giolla’s torso. The impact of the blow didn’t just slash her; the cold frost of the Underworld instantly numbed her nerves. Giolla let out a choked gasp, her paintbrush freezing solid before she collapsed flat on her face, completely unconscious.
The moment she lost consciousness, the transfiguration curse broke.
Kin’emon’s body snapped back to its original form, his sword turning back into steel. Momonosuke tumbled onto the cobblestones, gasping for breath as he became a human boy once more.
"Brook-dono!" Kin’emon gasped, staring at the fallen executive in awe. "Your swordplay... it is otherworldly!"
"Yo-ho-ho! It is simply the power of a good tune," Brook chuckled, offering Kin’emon a hand. "Now, let us continue. Kanjuro must be close."
"Indeed! We must hurry!" Kin’emon nodded, picking up Momonosuke and sprinting further into the city.
Meanwhile, on the main boulevard leading toward the giant, toy-shaped building known as the Toy House, Sanji and Nami were moving at a rapid pace.
The streets here were littered with abandoned crates, broken wagon wheels, and discarded toys. The massive stone tower of the Toy House loomed ahead, its arched entrance unguarded.
Sanji walked with his hands in his pockets, his suit jacket fluttering behind him. Beside him, Nami checked the coordinates on her Kimoyo beads, her eyes scanning the alleyways.
Suddenly, Sanji’s eyes narrowed.
His advanced Observation Haki flared. In his mind’s eye, the cobblestones directly in front of them turned bright red, vibrating with a massive, localized buildup of volatile energy.
"Nami! Hold on!" Sanji barked.
Before Nami could step forward, Sanji snatched her by the waist, pulling her flush against his chest. He kicked off the ground, executing a rapid, backward Soru step.
BOOOOOOM!
The section of the street they had been about to step on exploded with deafening force. A shower of sharp cobblestone fragments and black smoke erupted into the air, leaving a five-foot crater in the pavement. The shockwave rattled the windows of the nearby shops.
Sanji landed twenty feet back, his arm still wrapped securely around Nami’s waist.
"Are you alright, Nami-swan?" Sanji asked, his voice instantly shifting from combat-serious to deeply concerned.
"I’m fine," Nami gasped, clutching her Clima-Tact. She looked at the smoking crater. "That wasn’t a normal bomb. There was no fuse."
"A precise evasion," a cold, mechanical voice echoed through the smoke.
Walking out from the shadows of the Toy House entrance was Gladius. The elite officer of the Pica Army wore a heavy blue trench coat, a white mask covering his mouth, and a spiked helmet. His hair protruded from the helmet like thick, dark wires.
Gladius adjusted his round, yellow-tinted goggles and glared at them. "You must be Black Leg Sanji and the Weather Witch. You pirates are a cancer on this nation."
Sanji gently set Nami down on her feet. He stepped in front of her, blocking Gladius’ line of sight.
"Go," Sanji whispered, his eyes locked on the assassin. "The Toy House entrance is clear. Slide inside while I keep this punk occupied. Find the princess, destroy the SMILE, and get out."
Nami nodded, tightening her grip on her staff. "Don’t take too long, Sanji. We have a schedule to keep."
"For you, my beautiful navigator, I will make this quick," Sanji smiled.
He took a step forward, his boot clicking against the cobblestones. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it. He exhaled a thin stream of gray smoke into the humid air.
"Let’s see what you’ve got, goggles," Sanji said.
Gladius sneered. He raised both hands, his fingers twitching. "Pop-Pop Fruit. Everything I touch becomes a bomb. Mine Block!"
He slammed his palms against the brick walls of the buildings lining the street. Instantly, the brickwork bubbled and expanded, turning a volatile, glowing yellow.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
A chain of massive explosions ripped down the alleyway, tearing the walls apart and sending a hail of razor-sharp stone shrapnel flying toward Sanji.
Sanji didn’t run. He moved his head in tiny, precise increments.
Paper Art.
His body went completely limp, drifting through the air like a fallen leaf. The explosive shockwaves and flying shrapnel passed within millimeters of his face and suit, never once touching him. He glided through the smoke with terrifying grace.
Seeing the distraction, Nami bolted. She hugged the far wall of the alley, her boots silent as she sprinted past the blast zone.
Gladius noticed her movement. He turned his head toward her. "You aren’t going anywhere! Pop Hair!"
His spiked helmet popped off, and his long, wire-like hair stood on end. He snapped his head forward, launching dozens of sharp, needle-like hairs directly at Nami’s back. Each needle was coated in his explosive energy, primed to detonate upon impact.
"I don’t think so," Sanji’s voice rumbled right next to him.
Sanji appeared in Gladius’ blind spot. He kicked upward.
"Rankyaku!"
A sharp, blue blade of compressed air sliced through the air, intercepting the explosive needles mid-flight. The needles detonated simultaneously in the sky, creating a massive curtain of fire and smoke that completely blocked Gladius’ view.
Through the smoke, Nami slipped into the dark archway of the Toy House and vanished inside.
Gladius gritted his teeth, his hair bristling with rage. "You troublesome pest! You think you can protect her?!"
Gladius spun, aiming his forearm launcher at Sanji. "Catapult Stone!"
He fired several small stone marbles from his wrist. The moment they left his launcher, they expanded into the size of boulders, glowing with explosive light.
Sanji executed a quick Sky Walk, stepping onto the air to lift himself above the trajectory.
BOOM!
The stones detonated beneath him, the force blowing the smoke away. Sanji descended rapidly, aiming a heavy heel drop at Gladius’ head.
"Diable Jambe!" Sanji muttered.
His right leg ignited, turning a brilliant, burning crimson. The heat was so intense it warped the air around his leg.
But as Sanji’s heel neared Gladius’ shoulder, the assassin smirked beneath his mask.
"Punkt Block!" Gladius roared.
He inflated his own jacket, turning his entire torso into a massive, heavily pressurized bomb.
Sanji’s Observation Haki warned him of the immediate danger. If his foot made contact, the resulting explosion would blast him at point-blank range. Sanji aborted the kick, twisting his body in mid-air and using a burst of Sky Walk to push himself backward.
BOOOOOOM!
Gladius’ armor detonated in a violent, spherical shockwave of fire and steel shrapnel. The blast wave shattered the stone street beneath them, leaving a massive, smoking crater. Gladius stood in the center of the destruction, completely unharmed by his own explosion.
"Hahaha!" Gladius laughed, his voice muffled by his mask. "You cannot touch me, Black Leg! Every time you get close, I will simply blow myself up! You are a close-range fighter! You have no way to defeat me without destroying your own legs!"
Sanji landed thirty feet away. He stood on the edge of a ruined roof, his suit slightly dusted with ash but otherwise immaculate. He took a long drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke into the burning air.
"You’re loud," Sanji said flatly. "And you smell like cheap gunpowder."
"Arrogant brat!" Gladius screamed. He knelt, placing both hands on the ground. "This entire street is my bomb! Brachyura Burst!"
The cobblestones for fifty yards around Sanji began to swell like rising dough. The yellow, volatile glow spread rapidly, threatening to vaporize the entire block in a cataclysmic explosion.
Sanji closed his eyes. He took a deep breath.
He had let this fight drag on because he wanted to analyze Gladius’ pattern. He wanted to see if the assassin could detonate his body while moving. The answer was no. Gladius had to plant his feet, build the pressure, and then release it.
Which meant, if Sanji was fast enough, the explosion wouldn’t matter.
"Time to end this," Sanji said.
He opened his eyes. They were completely calm.
Sanji bent his knees. He didn’t just ignite his leg. He channeled his advanced Armament Haki, wrapping the red flames of his Diable Jambe in a sleek, protective coat of pitch-black armor. The combination turned his leg a deep, violet-blue color, burning with a heat that was almost invisible to the naked eye.
Ifrit Jambe.
Gladius looked up, his goggles reflecting the terrifying blue light. "What is that...?"
"Soru," Sanji whispered.
Sanji vanished.
He didn’t just move fast; he moved at a speed that bypassed the physical limitations of the human eye. The ground beneath him hadn’t even begun to detonate before he was already gone.
Gladius’ eyes bulged. He couldn’t find him. His Observation Haki couldn’t track the speed.
"Where—"
"Flanchet Strike," Sanji’s voice whispered directly behind him.
Before Gladius could even think about inflating his armor, Sanji’s blue-hot, Haki-clad foot struck him directly in the center of his back.
The force of the strike was astronomical, backed by the weight of Sanji’s trained legs and the kinetic energy of his speed. But the heat of the Ifrit Jambe was the true decider. The intense blue fire instantly pierced through Gladius’ trench coat, melting the protective plating beneath and vaporizing the explosive pressure building inside his body before it could detonate.
BOOOOOM!
It wasn’t an explosion of gunpowder; it was a shockwave of pressure.
Gladius’ mask shattered into a thousand pieces. His goggles flew off his face. He let out a choked, silent gasp as his ribs cracked under the immense weight of the kick. He was launched forward like a missile, flying straight through the front brick wall of the Toy House and crashing deep into the dark interior, leaving a human-shaped hole in the masonry.
He didn’t get up. He was completely unconscious before he even hit the ground.
Sanji landed softly in the center of the ruined street. The violet-blue flames around his leg faded, leaving only a small wisp of dark smoke. He adjusted his tie, smoothed his hair, and took his hands out of his pockets to check his watch.
"Three minutes," Sanji muttered, exhaling a final ring of smoke. "Not bad."
He turned and walked through the gaping hole in the Toy House wall, stepping into the darkness to find Nami.
