All four daimyō froze, baffled by Dimon's sudden kill.
Shimotsuki Yasue's fists tightened until his nails bit flesh. "Why did you kill my servant?"
"Your servant? You sure about that?"
Dimon rose, strode past the lords, hauled the body up with one hand, and drew Enma with the other.
"What do you mean—?"
Dimon didn't answer. His fingers closed on Orochi's throat.
"Mythical Zoan—Hebi Hebi no Mi, Model: Yamata-no-Orochi. Eight lives, right?"
On cue, the corpse warped. The neck swelled and split—one became seven, seven hideous snake heads hissing as the body tore free of Dimon's grip.
"W–wait! Rocks' remnants—we can deal!"
The creature skittered backward, seven pairs of vertical pupils locked on Dimon.
Yasue's jaw hung open; he'd known nothing of this.
"What sorcery…?" asked Kibi's lord, Fūgetsu Otsuru, dumbstruck.
Dimon had no interest in Orochi's bargaining. In the "original" path, Kaido needed Kurozumi help because he and Oden were equals then, and the Beast Pirates needed time to grow.
Now? He and Kaido together could crush all of Wano.
"Oden Two-Sword Style: Peach Garden—One Flash."
Dimon reversed his left grip on Ame no Habakiri and blurred past Orochi.
Steel whispered. Petals seemed to fall.
Squelch.
All seven snake heads thudded to the tatami; blood fountained high enough to paint the ceiling red.
Eight lives ended at once. The monstrous form collapsed back into a headless human.
"Men. Toss it out."
The audience doors slid open. Abel slipped in, dragged the corpse away, and closed them again.
Silence crushed the room. The four daimyō stared at Dimon, cowed by the cold finality of it.
He flicked the blood from his blades, sat beside Kaido, and put his smile back on.
"Pardon the mess. Had to remove some noise."
"You heard him a second ago." Dimon tapped the tatami. "Let's be proper. I'm Dimon. This is Kaido. Former members of the Rocks Pirates."
The titles meant nothing to isolationist Wano—but one word did: pirates.
Ushimaru's gaze sharpened. "Where is Shogun Sukiyaki?"
"He's fine. In a safe room." Dimon's voice stayed even. "I summoned you. From today on, the shogunate is ours. You'll answer to me and Kaido."
"Ridiculous!" Udon's lord snarled. "We are samurai. We only serve the Kozuki!"
"What if the Kozuki are dead?" Dimon's single line jammed his thoughts like a blade in a scabbard.
Dimon exhaled softly. "Names first."
A short exchange fixed faces to titles in his head:
Fūgetsu Otsuru, Daimyō of Kibi.
Amatsuki Tempura (Amegetsu Tenpura), Daimyō of Udon.
Shimotsuki Ushimaru, Daimyō of Ringo.
Shimotsuki Yasue, Daimyō of Hakumai.
Dimon studied Ushimaru—the resemblance to Zoro was uncanny. Likely kin. East Blue's Shimotsuki Village wouldn't be founded for years yet.
"The five noble lines," Dimon mused, "Amatsuki, Fūgetsu, Amatsuki (Rain Moon), Shimotsuki, Kurozumi… Why no Amatsuki here?"
The daimyō traded glances. Ushimaru answered, low and wary, "You know a lot for an outsider. The Amatsuki should rule Ringo, but… they left Wano ages ago."
Dimon clicked his tongue—so the Amatsuki had been gone since eight hundred years past. He'd planned to favor them, squeeze the others, play ally and pressure in tandem. Hard to uplift ghosts.
Mostly, he'd wanted a certain woman—Amatsuki Toki. A Time-Time Fruit user destined to arrive from the Void Century… just not yet.
He dropped the tangent and spoke plainly.
"Serve, and Kozuki Sukiyaki lives. Resist, and…"
Dimon's smile didn't reach his eyes. "You have ten seconds. Silence means no. Kaido—when I hit zero, start with the strong one."
Kaido's grin turned feral as his eyes settled on Ushimaru. He could end him in one blow.
"Ten."
Yasue lurched to his feet. Dimon's hand drifted toward his hilt—
—but Yasue threw himself down in a perfect dogeza.
"I, Shimotsuki Yasue of Hakumai, submit!"
Even prostrate, his stare was steady. Dimon's tone stayed indifferent.
"When you face the shogun—keep your head down."
Yasue's forehead struck tatami with a dull thud. "Y—Yes!"
"Yasue!" Ushimaru's face knotted.
Yasue didn't look up. He swallowed his pride. "Spare Kozuki Sukiyaki, my lords!"
Kaido chuckled. This "hold the shogun, command the lords" trick was effective. Maybe books had uses after all.
Dimon's gaze slid to the other three. The count continued.
"Seven… Six… Five…"
Thump. Thump. Thump.
One after another, the remaining daimyō knelt and bowed, foreheads pressing to the mat.
"We greet the two Shoguns!"
"Rise," Dimon said at last. "A nationwide proclamation will follow in a few days."
His voice cooled. "But hear this—if your domains rebel: the first time, I take an arm from Kozuki Sukiyaki.
After the arms, the legs. After the legs—skin. When there's no skin, we'll carve what's left."
He lifted his cup, almost conversational. "Don't worry. He won't die. I won't allow it."
A chill crawled up four spines. Pirates, through and through.
"For the shogun's sake," they answered in one voice, "Yes, my lords!"
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