(Hewitt POV)
This had to be the weirdest fucking fight he'd ever been in...in his entire life.
Even if you disregarded how Gedatsu glared at them in silence before the fight began (and it boggled his mind that apparently the guy had forgotten he needed to talk for his opponents to hear him), the fact that he had wanted to explain how his powers worked to his enemies was just plain idiocy.
Who the fuck did that?
And then he proceeded to demonstrate his abilities by flinging his ‘swamp cloud burger’ at his own soldiers. Of course, exclamations of “Lord Gedatsu, you’re supposed to attack your enemies!” and “How careless of me!” followed in quick succession. Hewitt would have called the man an incompetent fool if it weren’t for one thing.
The man was terrifying.
The goat he hit with his swamp cloud burger struggled at first, clawing at the mass around his head, kicking with his legs to somehow get a breath of oxygen. Then his movements got weaker, slower though no less frantic. Until they just...stopped.
Nobody, and he meant nobody, moved in all that time, transfixed by the horror before them. All the while, this Gedatsu kept staring at them, once more forgetting to speak. Who knew what he internally monologued about.
He wanted to throttle the goats chanting “Lord Gedatsu, you’re supposed to attack your enemies.” Because that was what the man did. Attack his enemies. Which included Hewitt.
“Fuck!” That one had been way too close for comfort. Pity for the guy behind him, but he should have gotten out of the way too. The weirdo, that's what Hewitt decided to call him, was like a machine. Feet planted firmly on the ground, tossing his burgers left and right, twisting his waist whenever someone tried to get behind him. Almost like those artillery turrets guarding the marine bases back home.
Not that Hewitt could get behind the weirdo even if he wanted to, because the fucking Shandians hadn't given him shoes with milky dials! He did not want to step in the wrong place and die of asphyxiation in a swamp, thank you very much.
Ross was pretty much doing what Hewitt himself was, testing out a safe perimeter in which he could move while trying not to die. There wasn't much else he could do as he didn’t even have a gun. No self-respecting chef used a gun, not unless he wished for his food to smell of gunpowder.
He dearly regretted not bringing a gun. Screw self-respect, at this rate he was going to die.
Hewitt’s mental rant was interrupted by a pair of boots thrown haphazardly in his direction.
“Milky dial shoes. Their original owners don’t need them anymore.” Ross called out, already fastening the laces on his own, two pairs of bare feet sticking out of the clouds nearby.
As if deciding that they needed to be within arm’s reach to hit him, the remaining Shandians under Genbo were closing in on the priest. He would have less time to dodge their attacks, but the same held true for them too. Hewitt wished them luck, because they were going to need it, even if their enemy was a fucking weirdo.
And in true weirdo fashion, he had his back turned to them.
“Lord Gedatsu! You are facing the wrong way!”
“How careless of me!”
Right, those goats had to go.
----------------------------------------
(Ross POV)
Seemed that Hewitt had the same idea he had. Take out the goats and Gedatsu had no one to point out his eccentricities. He wouldn’t pin his hopes on it but maybe he would forget to breathe or something?
Ross moved carefully, making a lot of effort to stay as unobtrusive as possible. Genbo and his men could fight the monster head on. Ross had no business doing so unless he had no choice. It was far better to snipe at him from afar and erode his support to weaken him. The high casualty count amongst the Shandians was proof enough that Ross had the right of it.
Gedatsu had buried near a quarter of the Shandians into his swamp by the time Ross had managed to hide himself behind a tree, near the back row of talking goats. Not ten meters from his position, was Hewitt crouched behind a rock. It was a good thing that everyone was focused on the walking incarnation of oddity that was Gedatsu. Though, how he was continuing to beat the living daylights out of his attackers while having his eyes rolled so far up in his head, was something Ross would likely never understand. His captain had mentioned that the priests possessed heightened reflexes, but this was ridiculous.
Ross nodded at Hewitt and held up three fingers. Two. One. Bursting from his cover, Ross quickly bull rushed the first goat, slamming his fist into its spine. By the time its compatriots had registered his presence, Ross had already swept another to the ground and Hewitt’s knife was buried up the hilt in a third.
“You dare raise arms against the army of god?” Six guys, six dials. Ross wasn't sure which dial they were pointing at him but regardless, he wasn't going to just stand around. Moments after he threw himself sideways, gashes opened up in the spot where he had just been. Axe dials.
Another blast. And another. And another as Ross continued his spiral approach, slowly closing in on his targets. Bunched up as they were, there came a time when not all of them had a good line of sight. And that was when Ross struck. A single axe dial was easy enough to predict, though Ross still had to accept a long if superficial wound. The goat fared much worse.
Smashing the larynx, he grabbed one goat and pushed, knocking the others down like dominoes. Leaping over the first gasping goat, Ross landed knee first on a second’s skull and as soon as he started feeling it give way, he began tussling on the ground with the third. Hopefully Hewitt had the other three covered.
----------------------------------------
(Hewitt POV)
Hewitt was panting by the time he had stabbed his final opponent through the heart. Right, what about Ross?
Limping over to where Ross was locked in a wrestling match, Hewitt just kicked the goat in the head until it went still. And while Ross finished it off, Hewitt took a moment to look around.
Of the dozens of Shandians, there was only Genbo left standing. Standing being a very generous description, as he was bent over the weirdo’s fist, eyes blank. The others? They had either run off like intelligent people or sunk into the clouds. There were not enough corpses around for anything else.
Both Ross and Hewitt froze, hoping against hope that the monster had not noticed them. He wasn't turning around to face them, so maybe there was hope?
A minute passed, then two, then five. Apart from beginning to slide his arms across each other for some reason, the weirdo still refused to face them. Hewitt's heart was hammering out a drum concert in his chest, which Hewitt was certain could be heard for miles.
Eight minutes. He dared not swallow, though his throat and mouth were parched and screaming in pain, desperate for any liquid relief.
Ten. And just as Hewitt thought he could stand still no longer, the monster turned around.
“Screw this!” Hewitt screamed, “I’m getting out of here!”.
Ross also started running, but before they could take their second step, they heard a thump behind them. By the third step, Hewitt chanced a glance behind him, only to see the weirdo collapsed, face half buried in one of his own swamps.
This had to be their chance. As if on a signal, both Ross and Hewitt dashed back the way they’d come and pushed the weirdo deeper down the hole, head first.
Not a moment too soon as the weirdo woke up and began to kick, one of them sending Ross careening away. Then, for some inexplicable reason, the weirdo activated his shoes and…vanished into the clouds.
Hewitt had to sit down, feeling a dizzyspell coming on. He wasn't sure why they survived but it didn't matter. They had survived where a dozen others had not.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
And when Ross started laughing, so did Hewitt, crying and laughing hysterically.
“Uh, do you need a doctor?” Oh, isn’t that the Straw Hat’s reindeer? “You’re bleeding.”
Oh, and so he was. When had that happened?
That was a lot of blood.
Maybe he should do somet…
“Hewitt!”
----------------------------------------
(Bellamy POV)
Shura’s victorious look quickly transitioned into confusion, the resistance he expected failing to materialise. In fact, it was so unexpected, that he lost his balance and pushed his entire arm through the hole he had just made in my shirt.
Useful fact about being a spring man: you could turn your chest into a giant spring at a moment’s notice. And in an extended state to boot. And springs, extended ones in particular, had a tendency to contract with the same force required to pry them apart. And a spring of the dimensions my torso had turned into? That was a lot of fucking force.
Shura screamed as his arm was snapped in an instant, going cross eyed from the pain. I added to it by slamming both of my cupped hands into his ears simultaneously, rupturing his eardrums. A moment later, he had gone completely limp.
“Captain!” Rivers shouted, hugging me from behind in a breach of protocol. I would forgive it this time. “I knew you’d do it! I knew it!”
Cheers arose all around as the surviving Shandians celebrated our victory, before realizing just how many of their friends were lying prone on the ground. Too many.
While Kamakiri organized a transport home for the wounded and the dead, I cuffed Shura’s hands and feet together. Then I pulled a few more cuffs out of my bag just to be safe.
“Rivers, are you keeping the bird?” I asked, receiving a nod in reply. “Can you trust it?”
Another nod.
“We are both lovers of greater things. Anyone who loves North Blue Fruit Pops can be trusted.”
“Yes, they are…an exclusive taste. I’ll take your word for it.” I said before nudging Shura with my foot, carefully watching the bird’s face. It remained completely neutral. “Bring this guy to the ship and lock him in the brig. Don’t loosen his chains, and don’t talk to him if he wakes up. I already searched him for anything dangerous so it shouldn’t be too difficult. Can I trust you with this?”
“Yes, captain. You can rely on me.”
“Good man.” I replied, patting Rivers on the shoulder.
Soon an unconscious Shura was grasped in his former mount’s talons, while his former spot was occupied by Rivers who gave me a lazy salute.
“Where will you be headed, captain?”
“I’ve got a god to find.”
----------------------------------------
(Muret POV)
It felt hopeless. What was she doing this for? As soon as she had finished the emergency treatment, her patient was rushing back into the fight. Three minutes later, he was another body on the ground, waiting for a doctor.
Still, she moved on to the next, cleaning the wound and staunching the blood flow, applying stitches where they were needed. She had no anaesthetic but Eddy’s sword handle worked well enough in preventing her patients from crushing their own teeth.
The next one had a broken arm, courtesy of the giant dog currently doing its best to sit on two Shandians. A quick pull and a jerk and the bone was set, at least as well as she could manage in the time she had. Two relatively straight branches and the scraps of his pants would have to do for a splint.
The warrior nodded his thanks and resumed shooting his bazooka, another of her former patients lending him a hand in reloading it.
Dashing across some open ground, Muret silently bemoaned the fact that she couldn't just leave. Pirate or not, criminal or not, she was a doctor.
Not much she could do for these two. She didn't have the equipment to treat a ruptured abdomen nor was there anything she could do for a punctured lung. She offered them painkillers but the two men waved her off. They too knew that they were lost causes. Best to save what little supplies she had left for the living and not waste them on the dead.
Wyper was doing his best, trying to keep Ohm occupied but he was hard-pressed. Ohm was too much for one man to handle, especially on his home ground.
But if they were having so much trouble against a mere priest, what chance did they think they had against their god?
Arrogance, Muret reflected, was the precursor of disaster. What was happening to the Shandians could have easily happened to her crew. In fact, it could still happen. Sarquiss and his posturing, Lily and her bravado, Hewitt’s envy, Ross’ paranoia, Mani’s…Maniness. All of them could lead to tragedy. They had to open their eyes and learn, lest they fall prey to their own sins.
A severed arm, it was theoretically something she could reattach but not here, not now. She used the last of her bandages on the stump and sent the warrior on his way.
There was nary a Shandian who didn't have some sort of wound. At this rate Ohm was going to kill them all. What was she even doing, other than prolonging the inevitable?
She didn’t want to die. There were so many things she wanted to do. So many…
“Thirty six pound cannon!”
----------------------------------------
(Bellamy POV)
Originally, I had been planning on reaching the giant beanstalk. Most of the important events had taken place somewhere nearby in the show, so it was a pretty good landmark as far as those things went.
I didn’t quite reach it, but I found something even better. Or better said, someone.
“I’m afraid trying to douse Enel in saltwater wouldn’t work.” Robin explained as we leisurely strolled through the lost city. “The weakness of devil fruit users isn’t salt water per say. It’s standing water, which includes lakes, baths and of course the ocean. What I attempted against Sir Crocodile was aimed at his specific elemental weakness, no more no less.”
I sure was grateful I got to meet Robin. She had been one of my favorite characters in the show and she was incredibly intelligent in person too. I shudder to imagine what I would have done, had I not run into her.
“Take this, Enel! Kukukuku. Now you are helpless and in my power!” ZZZZAAPPPP!
Yeah, that would have been painful. And I told her as much.
She laughed. It was a very nice laugh, clear and bright. Just judging from this, you wouldn’t have thought that she was the same person who had broken the backs of Yama and his fifty divine soldiers for daring to damage the ruins.
She was a very scary lady, if you thought about it. She only required a line of sight to grow her body parts anywhere, and near instantly too.
And yet, she was stunning, even with dirt smudging her perfect skin.
“Do you think rubber gloves might work? Rubber is an insulator, which should counter lightning.”
“Conceptually, it is plausible.” Robin admitted, tapping her chin in thought. “But I’m not sure. Logias are perhaps the least understood of all devil fruits despite being generally acknowledged as being the most powerful.”
“Well, that’s another idea down the drain.” It was supposed to be a joke, but I wasn't sure how it came across. Robin just gave me a wry smile in response.
“Like I said, I’m not sure. It might work, it might not. It certainly sounds like it may be worth a shot.”
“I suppose. Say, Robin. Want to…”
“You have an interesting soul. I think I might keep you in a jar.” A voice drawled from behind us. We whirled around but I already knew what I was going to see: Enel floating in the air, leaning on his knee and looking completely bored.
Before I really knew what I was doing, my arms whipped out, rubber clad fists zoning in on Enel. Both just passed straight through him, his head vanishing in a burst of sparks. It was also only temporary, as Enel just reformed his head moments later, still looking as bored as ever.
“And what was that supposed to be?” I could detect the barest hints of annoyance in his voice, but then again, how annoyed could you get at a bug?
“Uhm…an experiment?”
Enel vanished in a flash of light and then a voice whispered into my ear. “Then, how about an experiment of my own?”
Very, it turned out.
“One-million-volt Vari.”
Ah, crap.