Saint Dio’s broad shoulders bore Stussy’s feet as her body was folded nearly in half.
A fine sheen of sweat glistened on her pale skin in the dim light.
Her hands clenched the bedsheets beneath her, knuckles white, as her cherry-red lips parted slightly to let out ragged gasps that sent a surge of heat through the man’s veins.
“Those five…
old…
old men…
hah…
definitely plotting…
something…
again…
mmh…” Her words shattered under Saint Dio’s relentless thrusts, yet she still found the breath to mock the five figures who held the world’s highest authority.
Having followed Saint Dio for years, she had been subtly influenced by the young man, gradually losing the cautious reverence she was supposed to hold for those five beings.
Saint Dio didn’t answer, responding to her complaints with his actions instead.
The creak of the bed frame and Stussy’s stifled moans intertwined, echoing through the cabin for a long, long time.
Only after the expensive sheets had been crumpled and torn in several places did Saint Dio finally pour the climax of this prolonged exertion into her.
Stussy let out a long, deeply satisfied moan, her body melting into the bed like a pool of warm cream.
She was too exhausted to move even a single finger.
Her lower abdomen bulged slightly, and as her body relaxed, the fluid slowly flowed out, soaking into the sheets beneath her.
Saint Dio climbed off her, casually threw on his coat, fastened his belt, and tucked Jormungandr behind his back before leaving the room.
He walked down the corridor to the room where the Hancock sisters were being kept, then pushed open the door.
The room’s furnishings were unexpectedly luxurious: a soft bed, exquisite furniture, clean clothes, and even a window offering a view of Mary Geoise at night.
Saint Dio had not deliberately mistreated the three young girls; at least in terms of material conditions, he had provided them with treatment above the average standard of the Holy Land.
At this moment, the three girls were huddled together on the same large bed, sound asleep.
The days of terror, flight, and mental torment had pushed their bodies and minds to the limit.
Even in sleep, their brows remained furrowed, and their bodies occasionally twitched unconsciously, as if they were still fleeing something terrible in their dreams.
Saint Dio did not wake them.
He sat down in an armchair in the corner of the room, crossing one leg over the other.
His right fingers tapped rhythmically on his knee, his eyes gleaming with thought in the dim light.
He was pondering his next move.
In the original story, the Hancock sisters were all Devil Fruit users.
Hancock had eaten the Love-Love Fruit, while her two younger sisters had eaten the Snake-Snake Fruit, Model: Anaconda and the Snake-Snake Fruit, Model: King Cobra, respectively.
Since Saint Dio had intercepted them early, he naturally wouldn’t let these three Fruits slip away.
Long before departing for the Sabaody Archipelago, he had already secured all three Fruits through his own channels and used his Golden Finger to enhance and upgrade them.
He was simply waiting for the right moment to give them to the right people.
As he was lost in thought, a slight movement came from the bed.
Boa Hancock had woken up.
She opened her eyes groggily, and the unfamiliar ceiling that met her gaze made her daze for a moment.
Then, memories flooded back into her mind like a tide—the Sabaody Archipelago, the auction, their captain being killed, being taken away by that white-haired youth, the searing pain of the brand…
Her body jerked violently, and she shot up from the bed like a startled cat.
Then, she saw the white figure in the armchair.
The white-haired youth was sitting there with his legs crossed, propping his chin with one hand.
His eyes watched her calmly, as if he had been sitting there for a long time.
Hancock’s heart constricted violently, and every hair on her body stood on end.
Instinctively, she rolled off the bed, planted her feet wide, and clenched her fists, striking a standard combat stance.
Saint Dio watched the black-haired girl before him, whose legs were still trembling, yet who still maintained her fighting posture.
An amused curve touched the corners of his mouth.
This is what makes it interesting.
If she had simply wagged her tail and surrendered completely in a couple of moves, it would have been too dull.
A wild little beast is far more satisfying to tame.
Leaning back against the chair, he casually tossed out a lure: “If you can defeat me, I will release you three sisters and let you return to the Kuja.” A flicker of hesitation crossed Hancock’s black eyes, but it lasted only an instant.
She grit her teeth and glared back fiercely.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” She had witnessed firsthand how the white-haired youth had effortlessly subdued her captain.
The captain, a powerful warrior who was nearly invincible in her eyes.
If even the captain was no match for him, what right did she, a girl in her early teens, have to challenge him?
She was no fool who would let a few taunts cloud her judgment.
Hearing her words, Saint Dio did not show the slightest displeasure at being rebuffed.
Instead, he smiled.
It was a smile of genuine appreciation.
He rose from the chair and walked slowly toward Hancock.
Hancock instinctively tried to step back, but her feet felt as if they were nailed to the floor, unable to move.
It wasn’t out of fear, but because she knew that running away was pointless.
Saint Dio reached out, gripped her chin, and applied a slight pressure, forcing her to tilt her head up and meet his gaze.
His pitch-black eyes were like a bottomless, freezing pool, reflecting her face—a mask of both terror and defiance.
“It seems you understand your situation perfectly,” Saint Dio said, his voice neither loud nor soft.
“Since you know I won’t let you go, you might as well obediently accept my training.” He released her and turned to walk toward the door, leaving his final words to linger in the air: “Starting tomorrow, don’t expect me to hold back.” …
One month later.
A nameless desert island in the New World.
The island’s climate was oppressively hot and humid, dominated by muddy swamps and dense tropical jungles.
The air hung heavy with the stench of rotting plants and animal carcasses, while swarms of insects buzzed incessantly.
Venomous snakes lurked in the swamps, and hungry crocodiles crawled through the shadows of the jungle.
This place was a natural death trap; only a few patches of dry, hard ground offered any safe footing.
At that moment, a young girl’s cry shattered the jungle’s silence.
“Hah!” A lithe figure darted past the swamp’s edge, followed closely by another, sturdier form.
Boa Sandersonia and Boa Marigold, Hancock’s two sisters, were now locked in a fierce battle with a giant crocodile, standing five meters tall.
Both girls wielded specially crafted naginatas, their weapons clashing against the beast’s massive form.
After a month of brutal training, the girls’ bodies, which still bore some traces of baby fat, had become lean and powerful.
Their skin had been tanned to a healthy wheat-brown, and the muscles in their arms and legs now displayed smooth, explosive contours under the sun.
“Roar—!” The giant crocodile roared, swinging its massive front claw with devastating force.
Sandersonia and Marigold raised their naginatas simultaneously.
The blades clashed against the crocodile’s claw, producing a dull, metallic clang.
Their feet plowed two long furrows into the ground, yet they managed to withstand the blow.
“Now!” Seizing the moment when the crocodile’s old strength was spent and its new strength had yet to rise, Sandersonia leaped into the air.
She put her entire weight into the naginata, pointing the blade downward.
Using the acceleration of gravity, she drove the tip deep into the crocodile’s pinned front claw.
Shink—!
The naginata pierced through the crocodile’s rough scales, sinking deep into its flesh.
The beast let out a deafening roar of agony, thrashing its front limb wildly.
But Sandersonia gripped the hilt with all her might, hanging onto the weapon as the crocodile swung, refusing to let go.
On the other side, Marigold seized the opportunity.
She lunged toward the crocodile’s other front claw, twisted her naginata horizontally, and thrust upward with all her strength.
The blade’s tip found the gap in the joint, pinning the other claw to the ground.
“Wuuu!” The giant crocodile thrashed in agony, its massive body twisting violently.
Its colossal tail swept across the surroundings, snapping trees in half.
The two sisters gritted their teeth, their feet sinking deep into the muddy ground as they strained with every ounce of their strength to pin down the creature’s nailed-down front limbs, refusing to let it break free.
The crocodile unhinged its maw, revealing rows of razor-sharp, bone-white teeth, and snapped viciously at Marigold, who was closest.
“Sister!” They both cried out at the same time.
Just as the tooth-filled jaws were about to snap shut, a tall figure leaped from the canopy of a nearby tree.
Boa Hancock, clad in a form-fitting qipao designed for mobility, traced a graceful arc in the sunlight with her long legs.
Her body extended in mid-air, her right leg raised high.
Armament Haki, black as ink, coated her calf and the toes of her foot.
“Hah!” She delivered a powerful, high-kicking strike, her foot slamming directly into the giant crocodile’s lower jaw.
Crack—!
The crisp sound of bones shattering rang out.
The giant crocodile’s closing maw was slammed shut by the force of the kick.
Several broken teeth flew from its jaws, trailing streaks of blood as they splashed into the swamp.
The blow left the beast dazed, its massive body swaying precariously.
Using the momentum from the kick, Hancock performed a graceful flip in mid-air, bringing her legs together as she plummeted straight down like a meteorite.
Thud—!
Her heel slammed into the top of the crocodile’s skull.
A visible shockwave rippled outward from the point of impact, churning up the muddy ground beneath her.
The crocodile’s ferocious, slit-pupiled eyes constricted sharply before glazing over.
Its colossal body convulsed a few times and finally crashed to the ground, sending a spray of muddy water and crushed leaves into the air.
Hancock landed steadily atop the crocodile’s head, breathing slightly heavily.
Strands of black hair, damp with sweat, clung to her forehead.