“This is the Slash-Slash Fruit I just recovered from Mr.
1.”
“I think it has very high compatibility with your Flower-Flower Fruit.”
Rowan said it as casually as if he were handing over a tool rather than a power that could reshape a fighter’s entire combat style.
In his hand rested the newly recovered Devil Fruit.
The Slash-Slash Fruit—Supa-Supa no Mi.
A power that turned the body into steel blades.
Robin’s gaze lowered to it, thoughtful.
The Flower-Flower Fruit allowed her to bloom limbs anywhere within range—walls, ground, air, even inside enemy blind spots.
The Slash-Slash Fruit turned flesh itself into cutting edges.
Rowan didn’t need to explain further.
The implication was already clear.
Every sprouted arm becomes a blade.
Every angle becomes a kill zone.
A battlefield where attacks could come from anywhere—and every attack was lethal.
No distance required.
No warning.
Just execution.
And once Armament Haki entered the equation…
The cutting power would only escalate further.
A quiet, efficient evolution of murder.
“…Indeed.”
Robin nodded slowly.
“The compatibility is extremely high.”
She accepted the fruit without hesitation.
Then—
Gulp.
The taste hit immediately.
Worse than anything she had ever experienced, but she endured it without complaint.
Only a faint tightening around her eyes betrayed the discomfort.
The moment it entered her body—
A violent surge of energy erupted within her.
Not rejection.
Not collapse.
Something else.
It settled.
Like a second system locking into place beside the first.
Robin’s breath caught.
She lifted her hand.
Shing!
Her arm transformed instantly into a gleaming steel blade.
“…It worked.”
Not disbelief anymore.
Confirmation.
Absolute, undeniable confirmation.
Everything Rowan had said was real.
Dual Devil Fruits weren’t theory.
They weren’t myth.
They were now her reality.
Robin slowly flexed her blade-form arm.
A cold thought surfaced.
If this continued to develop…
The balance of the world would not remain intact.
The Marines.
The World Government.
Even the Warlords…
None of them would remain untouched.
Her eyes drifted toward Rowan.
And for the first time, she began to understand not just his power—but the shape of the storm he was building.
“Robin.”
Rowan’s voice broke the moment of silence.
He stood with his usual calm, as if the world around them wasn’t about to erupt into war.
“As long as you’re part of my crew…”
His gaze met hers directly.
“Anyone who wants your life will have to step over my corpse first.”
A pause.
“And once the crew grows strong enough…”
“I’ll personally take revenge for Ohara.”
The words landed cleanly.
No embellishment.
No hesitation.
Just intent, spoken plainly.
“We share the same enemy.”
“This place will be your home.”
For a moment, Robin didn’t respond.
Because she had heard variations of promises like this before.
And every single time—
They had ended the same way.
Fear.
Rejection.
Distance.
But this time was different.
Because the person saying it had already proven he could back his words with reality.
Robin lowered her gaze slightly.
A small nod.
Not dramatic.
Not emotional.
But final.
A short while later.
Footsteps.
Many of them.
Heavy, coordinated, closing in from every direction.
Rainbase was no longer quiet.
It was awake.
Rowan, Wiper, and Robin stood at the city’s edge as the desert wind swept in.
Then—
The sand itself began to move.
It gathered unnaturally at the front of the approaching force, coalescing into a familiar silhouette.
Sir Crocodile.
The Shichibukai.
Leader of Baroque Works.
His presence alone seemed to press down on the battlefield.
His eyes moved slowly across the group.
Wiper.
Rowan.
Then finally—
Robin.
A faint smile formed.
“Miss All Sunday.”
“So you’ve decided to betray me.”
His voice was calm.
Almost amused.
But the pressure behind it was unmistakable.
“You should understand something.”
“In this world…”
“No one else would dare take you in.”
Robin’s fingers tightened slightly.
Instinct flared.
Fear—deep, familiar, unwanted.
Crocodile’s presence did that.
It always had.
But this time—
She didn’t step back.
Because she was no longer standing alone.
🌟 The story is already written… waiting to be unleashed.
🔥 Your power determines how fast the tale unfolds.