Luffy ducked his head to dodge a vicious kick, then spun around with a Gum-Gum Pistol in retaliation, shouting loudly all the while:
"Hey! Sanji!"
"Why are you helping that bastard?! Aren't we companions?!"
Luffy made for a pretty laid-back captain, all things considered. First he'd fought his own swordsman back on Whiskey Peak, and now it was his own cook's turn.
Sanji kept a dark expression and said nothing, but the attacks from his feet only grew sharper.
"Ahahahaha… Saying anything now is pointless!" Mr. 3, sitting cross-legged on the ground and "watching the show," threw his head back and laughed at the two men tearing into each other.
Miss Goldenweek, quietly munching on rice crackers nearby, nodded at his words and added, "He's been hit with the blended color—Red-Black of Enmity. He won't regain his senses until he defeats his enemy!"
"And…" The painter girl took a sip of tea, her tone utterly certain. "Once he locks onto a target, he absolutely won't change it!"
"Damn it!"
Luffy lowered his head to evade Sanji's sweeping leg, then crossed his arms over his chest to block a ferocious flying kick. The thunderous boom that erupted when they collided made it clear just how powerful that kick was—one that could knock out a Sea King in a single blow.
Using the momentum, Luffy put some distance between himself and Sanji. He twisted his head to glance at the massive candle tower spinning like a fancy cake, wax mist spraying out and nearly covering Brogy's entire body.
(Not good. Before I send that weird-haired guy flying, I have to rescue this giant uncle first.)
Just as Luffy was about to make a move, a figure suddenly darted into view, drawing everyone's attention.
"Luffy! Sanji! Thank goodness, you're both okay~"
"Quack!"
"Vivi? And Karoo?" Luffy tilted his head in confusion, utterly surprised by Vivi's arrival. What he didn't notice was that the moment Vivi appeared, Sanji's perpetually darkened face suddenly underwent a dramatic change…
"You've walked right into the net, Princess Vivi!" Mr. 3 gave the uninvited blue-haired girl a sinister smile. He set down his teacup and stood up.
Vivi glanced at that signature bizarre hairstyle, her pupils contracting sharply as she cried out, "You're… Mr. 3?!"
Mr. 3 chuckled. "The heavens are truly on my side! Miss Goldenweek, remember to paint me! Candle Sculpture…"
As he spoke, the "3" on top of Mr. 3's head ignited, and a massive blob of creamy white wax enveloped his body, forming a giant robot shape. At the same time, Miss Goldenweek picked up her brush and began coloring it.
"…Candle Champion Cup!" Mr. 3 controlled the colorful wax robot to strike a pose that was, frankly, a little embarrassing.
"So… so cool!" Luffy's eyes sparkled with stars.
The enormous robot raised its fist high. Mr. 3 flashed Vivi a cruel grin. "This punch carries the power to fell a 42 million berry bounty. Dying to this move is fitting for a princess's status!"
With that, the massive wax fist whistled through the air, smashing down toward Vivi…
Whoosh!
A black shadow shot toward Mr. 3—like a meteor, like lightning!
Thud! Sanji's polished black leather shoe, gleaming brightly, slammed squarely into Mr. 3's face. The tremendous force sent the entire wax robot flying backward, crashing through several large trees. By the looks of it, Mr. 3 wouldn't be waking up anytime soon.
"You bastard!" Sanji's exposed right eye blazed with furious fire, a terrifying aura swirling around him.
"What the hell were you planning to do to a beautiful lady?!"
Then, the pervert cook—who could only stay cool for about three seconds—turned to Vivi with a total pigheaded grin.
"Ah, Vivi-san, were you enchanted by my dashing figure?"
"No… not really…" Vivi forced a smile, she and Karoo both sporting dark lines on their faces.
Plop. The half-eaten rice cracker fell to the ground.
Miss Goldenweek stared blankly at the showboating Sanji, her big black eyes filled with disbelief.
Director, this script is wrong! Wasn't it agreed he wouldn't attack anyone else and would only target his enemy?
Could it be that this curly-browed guy's instinct to protect women has transcended the paint trap's suggestion?
As expected, a pervert creates miracles!
Wind's picking up—time to scram!
Sensing things were turning south, Miss Goldenweek quietly packed up her beloved art supplies while Luffy and the others were distracted, bundled the leftover rice crackers to go, and scurried off on her little legs.
"Sanji, you're finally back to normal!" Luffy rushed over with a delighted grin.
The pervert cook, completely captivated by Vivi, finally noticed there was another person there. He tilted his head in confusion and asked:
"Luffy? Wait, why am I here? Whoa! That's a huge statue!!" Sanji exclaimed, staring at Brogy, now fully encased in wax mist.
"Ah! Right, we have to hurry and save the giant uncle!!"
"This is… wax?" Sherlock tapped the hard, steel-like white wall, murmuring uncertainly.
After wandering through the primeval jungle for a bit, Sherlock had discovered this rather odd house.
Cautiously pushing open the door, he used a Visual Den Den Mushi to scan carefully. Only after confirming there was no danger did Sherlock step inside with relief.
"Three cups mean three people. The black tea's gone cold, so they've been gone for a while. Fortunately, there's this Den Den Mushi… Mr. 3?" Sherlock pushed up his glasses, his mind recalling the intel he'd gotten from Miss Valentine.
"Baroque Works is here too? That candle fruit user and his partner—the other one should be the bomb guy…"
Blub-blub-blub…
At that moment, the Den Den Mushi emblazoned with Mr. 3 suddenly rang.
"Baroque usually hands down missions via written orders. The caller probably isn't familiar with Mr. 3's voice." Sherlock pondered for a moment, then picked up the receiver.
"Moshi moshi, who is this?"
"This is Mr. 0…"
Meanwhile, in Alabasta, in the town of Rainbase, inside a lavishly decorated basement.
A gloomy man with slicked-back hair sat in a chair, sipping wine while speaking on the phone with the distant "Mr. 3."
"I see. So the Straw Hat crew and Miss Valentine have been dealt with. Good work."
"The Unluckies have already been sent with the Eternal Pose to Alabasta. You and Miss Goldenweek should rendezvous at the designated location as soon as possible…"
Bang bang bang bang. A barrage of gunfire erupted from the other end of the Den Den Mushi.
Crocodile's expression shifted slightly. Paired with the scar that seemed to split his head in two, it made him look even more ferocious and terrifying.
"What's happening on your end?"
"I see, dinosaurs, huh…"
"Anyway, future orders will come via written instructions. Good luck, Mr. 3."
Hanging up the Den Den Mushi, Mr. 0 sat in his chair, lost in thought.
Nico Robin sat on a sofa not far away, reaching out to playfully tease a banana crocodile the size of a small boat.
Her hands were slender and pale, her nails trimmed to perfection. Such hands would be a pleasing sight whether resting on the black-and-white keys of a piano or lifting a goblet filled with fine wine.
"Dead just like that?" Robin murmured in a voice only she could hear. "What a pity. I still wanted to ask why his glasses have no prescription…"
"Miss All Sunday…" Crocodile suddenly ordered in an icy tone. "You and Mr. 2—"
Hanging up the Den Den Mushi, Sherlock stared at the unlucky agent now riddled with bullet holes like a sieve. He pushed up his glasses, his face looking rather grim.
"The bad news is, since those two vultures and the sea sloth can't return, the Sand Crocodile will soon know we're not dead."
"The good news is, we now have an Eternal Pose pointing to Alabasta. I wonder how long this island's log will take to set…"
Fiddling with the Alabasta Eternal Pose in his hand, Sherlock fell into thought.
"And from Crocodile's utterly emotionless tone just now, I couldn't detect even a hint of praise for a capable subordinate. Could it be… sigh. Working for such a ruthless, black-hearted boss is bad luck for these guys…"
Just as Sherlock sat in the chair, lost in contemplation, the door to the candle house burst open!
Miss Goldenweek's face froze in shock as she looked at Mr. 13 and Miss Friday on the ground, turned into beehives by bullets, then at the harmless-looking bespectacled man inside the room. Her little face instantly went pale with fright.
She stood stunned for a moment, about to turn and flee, but it was already too late.
—Infinite Gun System!
Surrounded by over a hundred primed and ready muskets, the cute little girl stared wide-eyed. Sherlock calmly pushed up his glasses, the clear lenses reflecting two dazzling glints.
"I never expected Baroque Works to have such a young child. Does this count as illegal child labor?"
"Also, do I really look that scary, Miss Goldenweek?" As he spoke, Sherlock flashed an extremely kind and friendly smile.
"Waaah…"
Faced with that smile and the dark muzzles all around her, the little girl with the sheep-horn pigtails burst into tears.
Sherlock's face was full of dark lines.
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