“Mhm, not bad.
It seems you have a pretty good handle on Armament Haki now.” A leisurely voice drifted from nearby, carrying a hint of satisfaction.
The three sisters turned to follow the sound and saw Saint Dio reclining comfortably in a lounge chair that had been brought in at some unknown time.
Legs crossed, he basked in the New World’s scorching sun, his relaxed posture making it seem as though he were vacationing in his own backyard rather than on a dangerous, deserted island.
The sunlight bathed his white hair, creating a soft, radiant halo.
Beneath him, Stussy was sprawled between his legs.
Her blonde head bobbed up and down as she eagerly sucked on something, making pleased, slurping sounds.
The cold and efficient expression she usually wore was replaced by a flushed, blissful glow, as if she were tasting the most exquisite delicacy in the world.
Born in the Kingdom of Women and never having had contact with a man, Hancock and her sisters had been mortified and filled with shame when they first witnessed such a scene.
But through Stussy’s relentless, day-after-day “brainwashing,” she had indoctrinated them with things like, “This is a necessary ritual to demonstrate loyalty to our Master,” and “Only women cherished by Master are worthy of doing this.” By now, the three sisters had come to accept such behavior as a perfectly normal part of their daily routine.
Occasionally, they even found themselves stealing glances, secretly comparing the gap between themselves and Stussy.
Saint Dio tilted his head up slightly from his lounge chair, his gaze sweeping over the three bodies caked in mud and sweat, their chests heaving with exertion.
“However,” he continued, “that was just a minion.” He paused, a meaningful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Crocodiles like these hunt in packs.
And they always have a leader—the strongest of the bunch.” As if to prove his point, the moment the words left his lips…
BOOM—!
The marshy water before them erupted.
Mud and debris soared into the sky as a shadow, far more massive than the previous giant crocodile, slowly rose from the depths of the swamp.
It was a colossal crocodile, over ten meters in length.
Its scales were a deep, dark green, its back covered in jagged, rock-like bony protrusions.
Two slit-pupiled eyes, glowing like eerie green lanterns, stared down coldly at the three minuscule figures on the ground.
Its mere presence emanated a suffocating sense of pressure.
Saint Dio settled back into his lounge chair, waving a hand dismissively.
“Your next target is that one,” he said casually.
The three sisters stared at the behemoth, swallowing in unison.
They had just endured a brutal battle, their stamina nearly depleted.
Covered in wounds and mud, they were still gasping for air, their breathing ragged.
But Saint Dio’s orders were never open for negotiation.
The three exchanged glances, gritted their teeth, and tightened their grips on their weapons.
“Charge!” Hancock was the first to rush forward.
Another grueling struggle ensued, one that cost them every ounce of their remaining strength.
When the ten-meter crocodile finally crashed down, shaking the entire marsh, the three sisters collapsed onto the muddy ground.
They lay there, chests heaving violently, too exhausted to lift even a single finger.
Sweat and mud streamed down their foreheads, dripping into the mire beneath them.
When they finally managed to catch their breath and instinctively glanced toward Saint Dio, they saw that Stussy had changed her position.
She was now straddling him, her back to the sisters, her legs spread wide.
Hancock lay on the ground, and from her angle, she could see everything with absolute clarity.
Stussy wasn’t using her front; she was using her back.
Hancock could see the area stretched nearly out of shape, the surrounding skin pulled taut as if it might tear apart at any moment.
Yet Stussy’s face showed no hint of pain.
Instead, she wore an expression of almost intoxicated pleasure.
Her waist sank slowly, inch by inch, swallowing the terrifying thing Hancock was watching until it was completely taken inside.
Hancock stared, unable to look away.
An involuntary question surfaced in her mind.
Could that place…
really fit something like that?
But Stussy had done it.
Not only had she done it, but she seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it.
Under Stussy’s long period of brainwashing, a deeply ingrained thought had already been planted in Hancock’s mind: As a woman branded by Saint Dio, serving her master was her natural duty and her highest honor.
If she couldn’t satisfy him as Stussy did, she was a failure.
Watching Stussy’s ecstatic expression, she thought silently— I wonder if I…
can do it.
Saint Dio was thoroughly enjoying the moment.
As a World Noble, his greatest privilege was that whatever he did seemed perfectly natural.
In this distorted world, his status as a “Descendant of the Gods” was the ultimate pass.
Even as he engaged in such acts in the middle of the wilderness, no one would dare utter a word of criticism.
Moreover, with a highly skilled professional like Stussy attending to him so perfectly, he didn’t even have to lift a finger.
He could simply lie back and enjoy the most exquisite treatment.
Stussy’s waist swayed wildly, her golden curls cascading like waves in the sunlight.
Beads of sweat glided down her smooth back, refracting tiny glints of light.
Her breathing grew hot and labored, yet her lake-blue eyes remained clear.
Even in the throes of ecstasy, she never ceased to attend to her master’s needs and the movements of her surroundings.
Her gaze swept downward, meeting Hancock’s black eyes, which were staring fixedly at them.
A gentle smile curved Stussy’s lips.
She paused her movements and slowly opened her arms toward Hancock.
It was an inviting gesture, an embrace welcoming her to join.
At that moment, the sunlight happened to pour down through a gap in the clouds, bathing Stussy’s body and coating her curvaceous form in a hazy golden halo.
Her open-armed pose, backlit by the sun, resembled a Madonna stepping out of a classical oil painting.
If one ignored the part of her currently joined to Saint Dio, her upper body alone would have been the very definition of “sacred.” Hancock dragged her exhausted body, stood up as if possessed, and walked over step by step.
Stussy pulled her into an embrace, holding her gently as she leaned in to whisper soothing words into her ear.
The words brushed against Hancock’s eardrums like a spring breeze, woven with countless references to Saint Dio.
They spoke of his power, his majesty, the protection and blessings he bestowed upon them, and how they, as his chosen women, should be eternally grateful and serve him with all their hearts.
After all, Stussy was a top-tier agent trained by the rigorous CP0, a master of psychology, rhetoric, and hypnosis.
Hancock, meanwhile, was merely a young woman from the backward, isolated Amazon Lily who had never received a formal education.
The gap between them was an unbridgeable chasm.
In just one month, under Stussy’s day-after-day “guidance,” the three sisters’ minds had been completely reshaped.
In their minds, Saint Dio was no longer the enemy who had imprisoned and enslaved them, but the Supreme Being, the very reason for their existence, the master they were destined to serve with everything they had.
This was exactly the strategy Saint Dio had deliberately chosen.
He knew all too well that chaining them down through fear and violence alone would never last.
High-pressure rule inevitably bred rebellion, and at the first opportunity, the backlash would only be more fierce.
As for so-called “humbling oneself for the talented” or “winning hearts with virtue,” he was a World Noble.
Mere slaves were not worthy of making him lower himself to curry favor.
So, he chose a third path.
The religious model.
He would play the role of the “God,” while Stussy would serve as the “missionary.” Through systematic brainwashing and faith-building, he would make these girls embrace their identities and missions from the bottom of their hearts.
As long as Saint Dio could maintain his overwhelming power and uphold his image as a “God,” the loyalty of his believers would never waver.
Loyalty built upon worship and faith was far more stable and enduring than a master-slave relationship maintained by fear.
Moreover, this model had an additional benefit: it was effortless for him.
He only had to focus on training Stussy, who would then use her professional skills to train others on his behalf.
It was a highly efficient, stable pyramid structure, and Saint Dio sat firmly at its apex.