"Wicked pirates!!!"
"Welcome to the official Pirate Expo Fighting Tournament! The winner takes all!"
While the bloody Pirate Triathlon was being held in the central waterways of the island, the Fighting Tournament officially kicked off in the massive open-air arena on the western shores.
The flamboyant host on stage was currently delivering a passionate, spit-flying speech to rile up the bloodthirsty crowd.
Meanwhile, deep within the dim backstage lounge, Douglas Bullet and King sat silently, their intense gazes locked onto two newly joined contestants—or rather, two uninvited guests.
One was a relaxed young man with a distinctive, pineapple-shaped hairstyle, seemingly around the exact same age as Bullet.
The other was a towering young man wearing a high-collared scarf that concealed his mouth, standing nearly three meters tall. Similarly, he didn't look much older than King.
These four were undeniably the youngest contestants in the entire gladiatorial competition. Yet, at the exact same time, their ambient auras proved they were the only ones in the room who could exert genuine, lethal pressure on each other.
'Things seem to be getting incredibly interesting!' Bullet grinned, cracking his knuckles.
Compared to the other three, Charlotte Katakuri was already being actively, rigorously groomed by BIG MOM as her absolute successor. Because of this strategic upbringing, his sharp eyes immediately recognized the specific clothing emblems on Bullet, King, and Marco.
'Two vanguards from the Crimson Empire, and one from the Whitebeard Pirates,' Katakuri thought, his eyes narrowing beneath his scarf. 'Are these my future rivals for the top of the New World? Interesting!!'
In a completely different direction, in the bustling town on the eastern part of the island.
Another highly competitive event was being held here, but this one had absolutely nothing to do with physical fighting. It was a high-stakes drinking contest, designed to test who could finish a massive, lethal gauntlet of liquor in the shortest amount of time.
Of course, it wasn't normal, refined fine wine.
As pirates, who among them wasn't an absolute heavyweight drinker? Many of the scumbags gathered here might not be great fighters, but they could drink for days and nights without stopping. Therefore, the drinks in this specific competition had "special" Underworld additives.
They were either extremely bitter, extremely spicy, extremely sour, or extremely foul-smelling—simply emphasizing the word 'torment'.
Edward Newgate, at the enthusiastic invitation of Marco's father, Polo Gram, arrived at the crowded competition venue.
"Gram, you said you'd treat me to a good drink, and it's for this foul swill?" Whitebeard's face showed an expression of profound disgust.
He liked to drink massive quantities of cheap alcohol, sure, but that certainly didn't mean he enjoyed drinking intentionally disgusting, toxic concoctions!
"Well, well! Don't be so hasty, Newgate! First, take a look at the grand prize!"
Polo Gram patted Whitebeard's massive back, persuading him, and pointed to the heavily guarded prize on display at the center of the square.
— 50 Tons of Premium Rum!
Although it wasn't a massive cash prize, nor a legendary Devil Fruit, for veteran pirates, a lifetime supply of top-tier booze was still an absolutely irresistible temptation.
Whitebeard was silent for a few seconds. He stroked his crescent mustache, then finally decided to sign his name on the registration form. No matter what the drinks tasted like, if he could win the final prize, fifty tons of premium rum would be more than enough for him to completely stop spending his treasure share on alcohol for a very, very long time.
However, the very moment the ink dried on his registration form, a man who had already noticed his towering presence immediately jumped out from the crowd.
"Gwahahaha! Newgate! The time for an absolute showdown has finally come!!"
"Roger?!"
Whitebeard was genuinely slightly surprised. He didn't have the paranoid habit of covering an entire festive island with his Observation Haki, only maintaining a passive radius sufficient to prevent sneak attacks. Therefore, Gol D. Roger, who had been deliberately suppressing his aura and hiding in the crowd, had successfully slipped under his radar.
"Hehehehe!"
Roger let out a sinister, competitive laugh. He snatched a pen and flamboyantly scribbled his name right next to Whitebeard's on the registration form.
"Newgate! Long time no see. Today, let's not draw our blades; let's compete over these drinks to see who truly rules the sea!!"
Whitebeard immediately looked deeply disgusted.
"I don't want to! Competing with a chaotic idiot like you would definitely make an already uninteresting competition turn nasty and agonizingly long."
"Gwahaha! Your refusal is completely useless!"
Roger stood with his hands on his hips, full of absolute, boundless confidence. "A dignified, proud man like Whitebeard... surely you wouldn't take back a name you've already signed in ink, would you? Can you really afford to lose face in front of all these rookies?!"
Whitebeard's eyes twitched. "...You manipulative scoundrel!!"
"GWAHAHAHA!!"
Back to York.
Whitey Bay successfully led York and Gunko to the high-end hot spring inn street exactly as she wished, and, precisely as she planned, intentionally booked only one luxurious suite.
Then, the very moment the shoji doors slid shut and they entered the room, both Whitey Bay and York simultaneously showed knowing, predatory smiles.
A faint, sweet fragrance began to rapidly fill the room. It wasn't merely high-end perfume or natural body odor. Instead, it was an intoxicating, dreamily hazy, alluring scent that immediately bypassed the senses.
York temporarily offered absolutely no Haki resistance, allowing the chemical fragrance to fully confuse his senses. He acted as if his entire body began to feel soft and weak, stumbling slightly before slumping heavily onto the soft tatami mats in the center of the room.
Gunko merely blinked, quietly sitting down at the tea table and pouring herself a cup, entirely unfazed.
Whitey Bay walked confidently and arrogantly towards York's slumped form.
"You've fallen for it hook, line, and sinker, haven't you, you arrogant scumbag!!" Whitey Bay laughed triumphantly. "This is my ability!!"
Whitey Bay confidently began to reveal her absolute trump card.
"Paramecia-type: Fragrance-Fragrance Fruit!"
"I can release a specialized, fragrant airborne toxin that directly paralyzes the nervous system! Anyone who smells the fragrance I release will have their entire body go completely limp and lose all physical strength!"
"Furthermore! My fragrance also has a highly potent hypnotic effect!"
Whitey Bay's lips curved into a wicked smile. She bent down and reached out, hooking her delicate finger under the York's chin and gently lifting his head.
"Come on, handsome. Be a good boy and tell me exactly where all your treasures are hidden!"
"My treasures... are all hidden..." York murmured, his eyes seemingly glazed over. He appeared to have truly fallen for the hypnotic trap, answering intermittently.
A glimmer of massive anticipation appeared in Whitey Bay's beautiful eyes. Another incredibly successful sting operation was about to unfold.
However, in an instant, a sudden, terrifying change occurred.
York's "lifeless" eyes instantly regained their sharp, sun-like clarity. A burst of Conqueror's Haki violently erupted from him, stirring up a strong wind inside the room that whistled and blew up Whitey Bay's short top.
Before Whitey Bay could even register the shift in the air, her outstretched hand was once again firmly grabbed by York's vice-like grip.
Whitey Bay instinctively tried to struggle and pull away, but her physical efforts were entirely futile against York's mountain-like strength.
"You... you can actually break free from my ability?!"
Although one hand was completely restrained, Whitey Bay did not panic. She had encountered strong-willed targets who resisted the toxin before and had plenty of experience in dealing with them by increasing the dosage.
However, in the very next second, another, completely unexpected change occurred.
For some entirely unknown reason, her own body began to feel incredibly soft and weak. At the exact same time, an unnamed, overwhelming heat began to rise violently within her heart and body simultaneously, causing her usually cold, calculating mind to become completely muddled.
York gently pulled Whitey Bay's restrained hand. Stripped of her strength by the sheer Power of Joy, the charming, scheming young girl obediently and helplessly fell forward directly into his chest.
"I... you... what kind of ability is this?!" Whitey Bay gasped, desperately trying to resist the overwhelming physical euphoria and discomfort as she looked up at York.
York precisely controlled the exact intensity of his ability. He raised his free hand and teasingly hooked her small, delicate nose.
"He who plays with fire inevitably gets burned to ash, little girl. Has absolutely no one ever taught you that basic rule of the sea?"
"Hmph!" Whitey Bay let out a soft, stubborn snort, attempting to invoke her ultimate backing to intimidate him.
"My godfather is Whitebeard, Edward Newgate! If you dare to do anything to me, he absolutely won't let you off!! He'll sink your entire crew!!"
"Newgate, huh?" York chuckled softly, his eyes darkening with absolute, Emperor-level dominance. "He and I are very close, old acquaintances! Today, you've willingly walked into my hands. And even if Edward Newgate was standing right in this very room... he still couldn't save you!!"
York grinned, and the sheer, absolute confidence in his words sent a genuine chill of terror down the Ice Witch's spine.
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Give me powerstones.
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