Darren bowed with easy grace.
Blood stippled his face and hands, but the smile he offered against the whirling snow was disarmingly gentle. It moved through the three girls like warmth through a drafty room, steadying their breath, slow and sure.
"Beautiful ladies shouldn't have to witness filth."
His large, clean-lined hand shot out, clamping the green-haired Celestial Dragon by the throat and lifting him off his feet. The cherry-shaped Devil Fruit slipped from the noble's fingers and rolled to a stop at the black-haired girl's toes.
Hancock couldn't explain the jolt that went through her. Fear dropped away; what remained was a hard, bright focus fixed on the creature who had haunted her nightmares. The "gods" who lorded over the world—reduced to a sputtering, strangled flail before a single man.
And that man wore Marine black.
"Marine-san! What's your name?"
Her cheeks flushed despite the cold; her voice didn't tremble. Unlike her sisters, there was no terror in her star-dark eyes, only fierce curiosity. Snow caught in her wind-tossed hair like salt.
Darren glanced her way and smiled, almost careless.
"After today, I won't be a Marine. I may be the World Government's most wanted—the world's most dangerous criminal. Still want to know my name, beautiful lady?"
The blush deepened. "Even more."
He blinked, then huffed a quiet laugh.
"All right. I'm Darren—Rogers Darren, King of the North Blue."
"I'll remember it, Darren-san. I'm Boa Hancock."
Her sisters scrambled up behind her.
"I'm Boa Sandersonia!"
"And I'm Boa Marigold!"
"A pleasure," Darren said. "Now, would the three of you take a small step back?"
Hancock bit her lip, eyes cutting to the noble in his grip. "Darren-san… may I do it?"
"Oh?" Interest flickered across his face. "Are you certain?"
The stubborn lift of her chin was far too old for her years. She tightened her hold on the short dagger and stepped forward.
Darren thought a beat, then released the Celestial Dragon—and casually snapped both his arms.
Crack.
"Aaaaaaahhh!"
The green-haired noble collapsed, keening into the snow, snot and tears pouring as he writhed. Seeing the girl approach, he blubbered, "No, Hancock—don't! I'm a Celestial Dragon! If you kill me, no one can save you!"
Darren watched without a word. He needed to be certain.
Hancock stood over him and looked down at the "god" sprawled like refuse. Disdain and cold pride sharpened her beautiful, too-young face.
Then she smiled—radiant, devastating.
The sight hit the noble like a blow; his eyes glazed, his body went slack.
"Didn't you say it yourself?" she asked softly, lifting the dagger. "Because a woman as beautiful as me can be forgiven for anything."
His pupils pinpricked.
The blade fell.
A wet crack. Hot blood geysered, spattering her cheek in scarlet petals. The body twitched twice and went still, shock frozen on his face—as if even in death he couldn't believe a slave girl had dared.
Silence swallowed the grove.
Sandersonia and Marigold stared, shaking, the world careening under their feet. Their sister—had killed a Celestial Dragon.
"Darren-san… from today on, my fate changes, doesn't it?"
Now the dagger trembled in her grip.
Darren drew on his cigar and smiled. "Yes, Hancock. Are you afraid?"
She considered. Then she raised her head and gave him a bright, reckless smile.
"I only feel exhilaration."
The air seemed to lurch. A pressure rolled off her slight frame, whipping the snow into a helix; the blood on her face only heightened the savage beauty of the moment.
Conqueror's Haki—awakened.
"Just as I expected," Darren murmured, smoke curling from his lips, satisfaction warming his voice.
For most, killing a Celestial Dragon struck the soul like a hammer. When the untouchable bled, when "gods" proved mortal, when hot red stained your hands—something buried woke and did not sleep again.
"Darren-san, may I come with you?" she blurted, as if words had climbed out of her chest without asking. It made no sense, but warmth and trust surged toward the man who had appeared like a deity and saved them at the brink—just like in the epics she'd read. Her heart hammered as she eyed his wild, handsome face and brutal, beautiful build. She tipped her head at the corpse, mischievous. "As you can see, I've nowhere to go."
"We'll talk later, beautiful lady. I have a guest."
He stooped, lifted the Love-Love Fruit, and pressed it into her palm.
A deep rumble crawled up from the earth behind him. Darren turned and smiled as the colossal Gyuki tore through the trees, smashing a path of ruin beneath its legs.
"You're too slow, Saint Saturn, Excellency."
He tossed the blood-slick Devil Fruit in his hand, the smile turning razor-thin.
"Looks like I'm the champion of this year's Native Hunting Competition after all."
To be continued...