~~Claude Brave~~

Claude could see chaos occurring every time an item was auctioned, even if it were but an old, crusty weapon that held no dignity, nor served any value according to the patriarch's eyes. First was a war hammer, rough and uneven in texture. The metal head was shiny enough to draw excitement from the guests' eyes. Both sides of the hammer head ended with sharp chin-like things, made from bronze and painted to perfection, that ran down covering a good chunk of the hammer's shaft to form an axe-like shape. Claude had to wonder if the toy was even a hammer to begin with.

Thousands of gang members fought for the auctioned weapons. The leader of tattooed redfangs, roared his excitement loudly and fiercely as he bid 120k berries for the first item and won. He raised the hammer high in the air, as if challenging the others with his arrogance. all the while, his men, with their weird reddish taints clapped their hands and drummed the ground with their weapons. Claude had to hold his face from forming a frown.

Next was a paintbrush, delicate in shape and flawlessly symmetrical, and from what his keen sight could tell, very sharp and deadly. "How dull. How predictable" Claude could hear Frank's unimpressed voice from afar, as the love fanatic leaned forward and observed the thing in great detail, only to end in disappointment. At last, the item was taken by the valkyries. Their leader, a red-haired woman clad in a long, embellished battle suit that did nothing but further magnify her fierce yet mature figure, shouted alongside her close followers and guild members. The clanging of their swords fell on the other guests, loud as thunder. What followed was a fight between the redfangs and the valkyries, all to see which side held the mightiest weapon… with of course, Waylen joining the fray.

And then, it was a slave, or a fish man to be precise. One could see his Strong bones and sharp eyebrows from far away. With a loud snort, the man sat like a martial artist and patiently waited for his bidder with closed eyes with a behavior that completely betrayed a slave's mannerisms. The winner was a man that resembled a lizard by his looks with an abnormally tall stature. He painted a wide, evil smile that adorned his sharp lips. He was the clan leader of the bloody serpents. A very powerful group consisting of numerous warring small clans that led savage lives among the peaks of Argent mountains. These lawless brigands amounted to a thousand in total number, and from what Claude knows about them, they are always seen descending from the mountain to rob, kill and rape. Their leader, the lizard-like man, was said to have slain over a hundred of West blue pirates and was one of the very few, of the Portelinian bunch, that managed to earn themselves a bounty numbering in millions. Claude narrowed his cold eyes as the martial artist kneeled before the lizard and swore his allegiance and loyalty. The battle between the former two gangs now increased in heat, as even the serpents landed few blows here and there.

After a few rounds of bidding. Claude heard another shout. "... Now for the next item, ladies and gentlemen! A mermaid from the waters of asheport!". Unbothered by the ongoing scuffle, Ethan, the auctioneer whose sole purpose is to hype up the crowd, did a fine job as he presented this 'item' with open arms, an excited face, and great fervor behind his young voice. He spread his arms gracefully with his bird badge gleaming beneath the fancy costume. "unparalleled beauty, the air of a maiden, soft features and of young age. She is our finest slave for this night!"

'he will cause a ruckus, won't he?' the patriarch took a quick glance at his friend in crime. Knowing of the fanatic's enthusiasm for beauty, an interesting scene is about to transpire. 'huh?' for a moment, Claude could have sworn that he saw three Franks at the same time… blurry figures decorated in the familiar shades of classic brown. 'I must be tired' he thought.

Yes, the work of a leader was nothing short of troublesome and the burden he carried on his shoulder grew heftier and heavier, but it wouldn't get to the point where he would start hallucinating. After a quick face rub, his vision finally turned back. Guillermo and Negumi stood valiantly by his side, never budging, never shifting.

Guests once again screamed in delight, a scream that echoed louder than any of the former ones. With lust filled gazes, they commenced another round of bidding.

"I bid fifty thousand berries!"

"a hundred for this lady right here!"

"a hundred and twenty!"

"I bid five hundred for the mermaid" surprisingly, this gentle, soothing sound came from the high stage, bringing the guests at the lower stage to a moment of shock. Breaths were held in and the fighting receded for a second, as they looked at whoever was brave enough to challenge the gang leaders. "I'm speechless. Pretty ladies have made a habit of oftenly sinking when they are sold to a bidder. Why? A bidder pays good coin just like a devoted husband does. He might not be as caring nor as dutiful, but there is always room for him to turn romantic, even if he's but a mere bidder" the love fanatic chuckled, and his mesmerizing eyes flicked with mischief. "Come with me, young lady. the world is a better place, I assure you." he ended with a courtesy bow. The mermaid's frightened eyes finally regained their beautiful, innocent shine as she shyly smiled at Frank. The latter simply leaned back in his seat.

"Ah, one of the big five, Frank Costello. Excuse our rudeness…" Ethan acknowledged the bow and cleared his dry throat for a moment. He slowly brought his hand to check the time and went back to announcing, with his cheerful voice reaching to new heights. "And now, ladies and gentlemen! For the star show of tonight! It is none other than… the devil fruit!" two ladies carrying a large box moved behind the platform in delicacy, and brought it down gently for all guests of the auction to see. Claude's eyes drilled holes into the box, as if wishing with every part of his brawn to see the fruit. Leisurely, the announcer, Ethan, knelt and opened the box from the top, and Claude couldn't find it in himself to blink. 'the fruit… the fruit!' he thought. This mere fruit, was the item that would make room for the legacy of the Brave family to solidify for years! never to be taken for granted by anyone… this was his own path to earning power, and all he needed to do was bid a few millions to get it, a simple but demanding process.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

The fighting suddenly stopped in the lower stage. Gang members stood still in their places. Expressions of confusion overshadowed their previous enthusiasm for battle. Claude felt as if time stopped. He tried moving his hands but couldn't. He wanted to command his two underlings but found not a single word leaving his mouth… his muscles twitched and squealed in sheer pain leaving him to sit hopelessly in torment.

Now when the treasure was finally unveiled, Claude Brave could see nothing but rocks and dirt… there was no fruit, no treasure of some sort, nothing. Rage took him by the throat, and his cold eyes had a red tinge to them. 'what is the meaning of this?!' Claude was promised a devil fruit, and he meant to take it, even by force, if needed, elsewise the patriarch would be mocked by his enemies…

Guests were frozen in place. But The announcer Ethan, the servant Sha Lin, the ladies… all Were in good form. They retreated behind the curtains of the platform. Ethan, in particular, made way for a person to come in. Whatever he might be, Claude had no clue, other than the fact that he used a spear.

"wonderfull"

he heard the 'thing' speak. A cloak that hid most of the body below the visage… and the latter belonged to a young man nearing his late twenties or so… Ragged cloak, frilly spear, hollow face, and the red eyes of a vengeful killer. The man grabbed his spear tightly, flipped it and spun it twice before starting a cruel 'dance'. The platform that was left barren with the departure of Sha Lin and Ethan, fell away beneath his boot heels. The material itself, albeit seeming strong and sturdy enough, retched and squealed in destruction. The air above them, as if mortally wounded, seemed to recoil from the 'dance'.

Silky-smooth, writhing strings of spasming, white energy was released from the spear to dance freely in the air of the auction, refusing to be withheld, refusing to be suppressed. Above them, a silhouette of a massive, lonely moon manifested from the writhing strings. Resembling a holy monk, the sullen figure of the man danced underneath the shining moonlight.

He took two steps before twisting his body for a delicate spear strike that only managed to urge airy waves to travel quite a small distance… next was a subtle jump, that didn't reach high and didn't seem mighty, but caused great disturbance in the energy holding the moon together… and then he released a beam, one so strong and powerful, it shattered the moon to a dozen dazing pieces, as if it were made of glass. Finally, all fragmented shards started trembling when the silhouette of the dancer became blurry, only for it to finally start lounging to the surroundings, quicker than a snake, sharper than the finest blade. The white moon from before, served as a fuel for this monstrous dancer, further decorating his performance.

"lovely"

Claude's stunned, cold eyes beheld madness. Destruction on a scale so massive it defied all laws of physics and common sense. The white shards surrounding the man followed him like a pack of loyal wolves and aided his performance to a great degree. At first, it was the unfortunate redfangs that got the first, fresh taste of the performance. Limbs and blood flew in the air under everyone's frozen eyes. The leader, who appeared so brazen before, could only sit like calm water as his bulky, tattooed body was shredded to pieces. Next, the valkyries of the night, were put under the spear of the dancer so brutally Claude felt the need to vomit. The lady from before was reduced to a mere fleshy paste, along with her paintbrush. Under the horrified eyes of the serpents, their clan master also shared the same fate as his predecessors. Hands and feet were cut first and the man became limbless for a moment, before a painful death came to end his misery.

A part of the stage, reserved for the masters that grew ever so rich betting on fighting rings and slave pits, became a bloodbath, filled to the brim with their saddened, weary faces. How can Claude blame them? All They could do was slowly watch, as their brethren were slain in front of them, knowing fully well that they would soon be facing a similar fate.

Claude stared into the great hole torn in the lower stage… Waylen Stagehand, the slave master, was eaten alive by those shards… They came down like wind and struck his body hundreds of times, cutting through all his tough meat and strong bones like a fine shredder, before disappearing and slaughtering their other unfortunate target. All Claude could make do was a desperate clench to his rope of sanity. Even if he somehow quelled his internal paranoia, all he would manage to do by then would be long-sighing through endless pain and excessive exhaustion… as if that would lessen any of his anxiety.

"splendid"

Claude heard the 'thing' mutter for the third time, a voice so dry and cold it could send goosebumps rolling through the body. The dancer was coming for him, and the signs of his killings became closer and closer and closer… it was a terrifying thought that ran down his mind, to see his body butchered, to see the end of his legacy so dreadful. It was horrible. From the end of his eyes, Claude could see movement. When he finally started focusing, he could tell the shape of a tidy, graceful man, readying himself for an elegant escape. 'how is he able to move?' his confusion could be felt from a mile away, and surely enough the man noticed.

"ah, my friend. They say poison is a woman's weapon. Whoever was brazen enough to do this to us… she earned my wholehearted respect." Frank said grimly. "when the patriarch came into the devil's den. He filled his lungs with the flowery, fume-laden ozone of the scarlet… A plant so deadly and poisonous, it was said to be cursed by the world." Frank showed a faint smile, upon noticing Claude's dismay.

"Whoever orchestrated this, they got you good. As for me, I happen to have the antidote". Claude could finally see the light of hope shining brighter than ever upon his family name… now if only he could get that antidote, it would count as a happy ending in his books. Even if he lost both his men, at least his name won't be ending in this god forsaken place. He would return with vengeance and unleash his unhinged wrath at them… if only…

Frank took his hat and performed a solemn bow that oozed sarcasm. "Adieus, my friend. If we ever meet in hell, let it be a pleasant meeting" he said with his delicate tone, and Claude's rage reached new heights. With a puff, Frank disappeared from the auction, never to be seen again, never to be heard of…

'that bastard! He had a devil fruit?!' all his rage took but a few seconds to turn into terror. The blade of the devil, the dancer, the monk, whoever he was, grew nearer.

Bitter and angry, Claude felt his whole soul leaving him… He felt a rush of feelings bombard him from all sides. From one side, were the shadows of his family members, despite bearing him no love or intimacy, served to restrain his mind from going mental. On the other hand, were the dark souls of those he wronged, those he decried, tormenting him with endless suffering and sheer pain, and gnawing away at his sanity. His head drummed and jerked, earning him a piece of his own medicine, the one he used to 'bless' countless people with. And for the first and probably last time in his life, Claude finally understood why death could be taken for mercy.

In a second, he unleashed all his lonely burdens and mustered all his leftover strength to utter… "kill me" through a trembling voice, unbefitting of a patriarch to do. A moment later, his smoldering corpse laid across the floor, along with Guillermo's and Negumi's. His dead body, ever so cold and elegant, gleamed in the darkness of this grueling 'dance'.

"delightful"