The human auction house in Sabaody was vibrating with suffocating tension. The humiliation inflicted on Saint Charlos by Sukuna in the streets of the archipelago had left its mark, and the atmosphere seemed on the brink of explosion. Disco, the master of the place, continued the sale with a forced smile, trying to mask the agitation brewing in the crowd. In the shadows of the stands, two figures observed, detached from the chaos: Sukuna, the man with pink hair and piercing gaze, and Maki, his spirited companion.
"Gojo is heading to Fish-Man Island," Sukuna said casually, his tone contrasting with the gravity of his words, his eyes fixed on the scene where a slave was being dragged amidst jeers.
"What, does he want to rename the island Atlantis again?" Maki replied, a mocking smile on her lips, punctuated by a theatrical sigh.
"You haven't been keeping up with the news, apparently. The Marines announced Ace's execution at the Summit War," Sukuna said, turning his head slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Are you kidding me? Whitebeard won't just sit idly by..." Her voice trembled, mixing impatience and apprehension, a drop of sweat sliding down her temple.
"The world will tremble, and Gojo will be at the heart of the storm. We'll find him there, on Fish-Man Island," added Sukuna, a mysterious smile playing on his lips.
"The last time I went there, I was nine years old. We had just entered the New World. I was just a kid..." Maki murmured, a nostalgic smile touching her lips briefly, quickly interrupted by a light tap on her head.
"And you still are," teased Sukuna, a mocking laughter in his voice. "The Fish-Men respect Gojo, you know. Not because he's a saint, but because he has this annoying gift of being loved while being unbearable."
"When Queen Otohime died... Neptune entrusted him with the Road Poneglyph. It was her last wish," Maki added, her gaze distant, the image of a blonde and radiant woman imposing itself in her mind.
"That idiot captain has a knack for winning hearts while getting on people's nerves," Sukuna concluded, amused.
Their exchange was interrupted by a dull thud. The door of the room opened abruptly, revealing Saint Charlos, surrounded by nervous guards. The World Noble entered unsteadily, his pale face marked by residual fear, his ostentatious clothes stained with dried blood. His eyes, still haunted by the humiliation inflicted by Sukuna, scanned the crowd with feverish suspicion. The clinking of his slave's chains, crawling behind him, rang like a death knell in the tense silence.
"Charlos-sei, what an honor!" exclaimed a slave trader, kneeling hastily, his voice trembling.
"Show me my seat, quickly!" barked Charlos, his shrill voice tinged with barely contained nervousness, wiping his forehead as if to dispel an oppressive memory.
In the VIP lodge, Shalria welcomed him, her confident smile wavering at his disheveled appearance. "Charlos, what happened to you? You look... shaken. Where have you been?"
He slumped near his father, Rosward, avoiding their gazes. "Nothing... It's nothing," he mumbled, lips tight, the threat of Sukuna echoing in his mind: Do not contact the Marines, or this island will be your grave. Fear silenced him.
"You're covered in blood, my son. Who dared? Speak!" Rosward pressed, raising an intrigued eyebrow.
"Nothing, I said!" Charlos hissed, his tone higher than he intended, averting his eyes to hide his terror. The crowd, sensing his discomfort, murmured, but no one dared to push further.
Sukuna and Maki, indifferent to the World Noble's entrance, did not spare him a glance. "He looks like he's seen a ghost," remarked Maki, a mocking smile on her lips.
"He's seen worse," Sukuna replied, amusement glinting in his eyes.
The auction resumed, but an incident disrupted the fragile order. A pirate captain, refusing humiliation, bit his tongue, causing a momentary chaos. Disco, furious, tried to regain control by revealing his major asset. The lights intensified, and a drumroll filled the room.
"Ladies and gentlemen, open your eyes wide! Directly from Fish-Man Island, here is Camie, the mermaid!" proclaimed Disco, theatrical, unveiling a glass dome where a young woman with delicate features was trapped like a trophy.
The crowd roared with excitement. A mermaid was a rarity, a coveted treasure. The Straw Hats tensed, Nami clenching her fists, ready to bid with their two hundred million berries.
Charlos, still shaken, seemed to find in this distraction a chance to regain control. His eyes lit up with unhealthy greed. "A mermaid! An authentic mermaid!" he exclaimed, his voice regaining a fragile arrogance.
"This is our moment. We'll get her back," Nami murmured, determined, her eyes fixed on the scene.
But Disco was interrupted. "Five hundred million!" Charlos shouted, leaping to his feet, his voice trembling with forced confidence. Silence fell, oppressive. No one dared to challenge a World Noble, especially not after his disturbing entrance.
The Straw Hats paled. "Aren't you going to do anything, Sukuna? Gojo has gotten angry for less than that," Maki said, casting a sidelong glance at her companion.
"This mermaid is an adult, she can fend for herself. The case you're referring to was different. An eight-year-old girl, sold like an object," Sukuna replied, shrugging, a cold smile on his lips. His gaze darkened, icy. "That's why Gojo wiped out that World Noble family."
"...," Maki shuddered, aware of the anger simmering beneath his words.
The incident in question had marked their crew, triggering a legendary confrontation against Admiral Akainu's fleet, but it wasn't the time to dwell on it. "Anyone offering more?" Disco called out, scanning the room. No one moved, out of fear or lack of means.
"Can't we do anything? Sanji, Nami!" Chopper exclaimed, on the verge of tears, arms outstretched in indignation.
"We didn't plan for this. Five hundred million..." Sanji grumbled, teeth clenched.
"If this continues, I'll free her myself!" declared Hatchan, gripping the armrests, ready to pounce.
"Idiot! Her collar will explode if you do that!" Pappagu, the starfish, exclaimed, trying to calm his friend.
As Disco was about to close the auction, tension reached its peak. Charlos, still haunted by his humiliation, felt a simmering rage rise within him. His eyes landed on Hatchan, whose presence seemed to reignite his frustration. The sight of a Fish-Man, a being he considered inferior, became an outlet for the fear and helplessness he had felt in front of Sukuna.
"You, filthy fish!" Charlos roared, pointing his gun at Hatchan with hysterical fury. "How dare you breathe the same air as me? After what I endured, do you think I'll tolerate your pitiful existence?" His voice trembled, mixing arrogance and despair. "You're nothing but trash, like all of your kind!"
Hatchan, frozen, felt the weight of the hostile stares from the crowd. Racist murmurs intensified, amplifying his distress. Charlos, unable to contain his anger, fired without hesitation. The bullet struck Hatchan, who collapsed, his body covered in blood, amid the cruel laughter of the World Noble. "That'll teach you to exist, vermin!" Charlos spat, almost dancing with satisfaction, as if this act erased the humiliation he had suffered.
"Hatchan!" Nami exclaimed, horrified, tears in her eyes, fists clenched. The Straw Hats, petrified, stared at their fallen friend, while the crowd held its breath, aware that a point of no return had just been crossed.