With his legs stood stalwart on the bow of the Deadweight and a hand covering his eyes from the sun, Dante inspected the island in the distance, having absolutely no idea which one it even was.
At least he had more than enough time to try and find out. His ship was straight on course for the island, and yet still in the past 15 minutes he had barely moved a few meters. He was in it for the long haul, it seemed.
This wasn't a downside to Dante, though. He wanted some downtime on the open seas, in all honesty. He feared that he would be seeing Vergil sooner than he liked, and despite it being nothing more than a nagging gut instinct, he trusted it implicitly.
Dante wondered if Haki would give him the edge over Vergil, wondered if Vergil would have worked to grow stronger than ever, and wondered if this time the duel between them would come to a close for good.
He thought of a great many things while he was sailing towards the island, but the most important thing he thought on was how... lonely he felt. He had friends, sure. Luffy and his crew made for some friends, even if some of them don't trust him.
Rayleigh was more of a teacher than a friend, a Mr Miyagi instead of a drinking buddy. Beyond that? He had nobody. And he would always have trouble changing that, always have a sinking feeling whenever talking to anyone - the feeling that they would be used against him. He feared the worst always.
Maybe one day he won't have to be afraid. Maybe he can live the way he always wanted, surrounded by people who love him.
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Sengoku's brow was furrowed in an odd mixture of anger and confusion. Upon reading the details listed in Aokiji's report, he had ordered a comprehensive list of every ability Dante had displayed thus far since his debut to be sent to Marine Science and Vegapunk for analysis. He wanted an answer.
A Zoan fruit? It seems entirely unlikely given Dante displaying clear Paramecia abilities, yet if Kuzan's testimony was true then he could indeed utilise a transformation. There was no evidence other than what Kuzan had said, though, and Sengoku had trouble trusting it.
He trusted Kuzan implicitly, however he understood that sometimes fear can change the way a man sees the world. He wouldn't be surprised if in his despair addled mind, Kuzan began to take the Red Devil moniker too literally after witnessing Dante slaughter his brigade entirely.
And boy, wasn't that a fun revelation. An entire Buster Call, thwarted by a man who was a complete unknown just a few months ago. By this point, he should know that Dante is far stronger than any give him credit for, but he still finds himself concerned each time he hears the mans feats. The only small solace he had now was that Dante had gone underground again after killing his second World Noble. Saint Barneole was a tragic loss.
Sengoku falls asleep every night regretting beyond anything else that he didn't kill Dante the second he saw the man. If he could have taken him down then and there, maybe his forces would have been safer. Maybe his Admirals wouldn't be suffering at the hands of the Devil.
He held his head in sweaty palms and breathed a deep sigh. Now he found himself in the midst of another crisis. Borsalino was not responding. And coincidentally enough, he was last sighted engaging the Red Devil in combat alongside one of Kaido's All Stars a few weeks ago. It was as if Dante's very existence was a detriment to the Marines.
With recent events involving the Admirals, and the death of another Celestial Dragon, Sengoku was close to being forced into resignation. Already he was unable to question the World Government now. So, he held a Mushi in his hand, making a direct call to the Marine Finance branch, to have a request be put forth.
"Increase the Red Devil: Dante's bounty. He's becoming far too dangerous far too quickly. We need to stop him, by any means."
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Dante had been expecting an empty island full of greenery and moss, or even just a regular island with its own society. When his boat was anchored ashore, the last thing he expected upon turning around was to see several tens of tribal women, pointing bows and arrows at him, even some spears.
Awkwardly he held his arms up, not out of fear that they would attack him, but more so out of curiosity over the situation as a whole. He began to wonder if this was the enigmatic Kuja Island he had stumbled upon, and if he would finally meet another Warlord today.
There was also the added bonus that he was currently the only man on an island full of exclusively women, something that he can imagine several hundreds had long since dreamt of.
"Hey, I think I'm a little bit lost. Mind telling me where I am?"
A woman slowly walking to his side, alongside another holding what seemed to be twine handcuffs, smacked his chest with the butt of her spear, uncaring for his idle chatter.
"Quiet man-thing. You have no right to step foot on these lands."
"I didn't exactly do it intentionally you know! Once you get in these waters, it's pretty damn hard to get out."
She smacked him once again, while her companion bound his arms together in twine. He frowned at his current treatment.
"So, are we gonna address the whole man-thing title? I have a name, you know."
"Silence your tongue before I remove it! You are to be held as prisoner, you do not need to know anything else."
The reality of the situation was that Dante's reputation had begun to precede him. After his second spotting at Sabaody and the death of another Celestial Dragon, the Pirate Empress had been tasked with monitoring any presence of the Red Devil along the calm belt by the World Government themselves.
Normally, she would outright refuse and call it a day, however the World Government had begun to grow desperate, antsy even after the death of 2 World Nobles. Elder Nyon had to try convince her for several days to take the deal. They threatened to revoke her Shichibukai status and raid Kuja the very next day if she refused. An order from the Gorosei themselves, who wanted all hands on deck for the Devil Hunt.
They figured since none had ever seen him travel by boat that he went along the calm belt, and so they forced Hancock into watching the belt, alerting her many forces and crewmates that they were to watch out for a 'silver haired man in a red coat' and to bring him to her as soon as possible.
As of now, they had found their man. It was entirely a new question as to what would happen to Dante now that he was being 'held prisoner.' Of course, Dante knew absolutely none of this. He didn't even know what a Gorosei was. Instead, he was making idle conversation to see how much he could anger the Kuja natives.
"Soo... First time seeing a man, I assume? What's the verdict? I'd say I'm quite easy on the eyes, maybe thats why you haven't aimed for the face yet."
Contradictory to his statement, they were more than willing to hit his dashingly handsome face. Their allegiance to their Empress outweighed the astonishment they felt at seeing a real, breathing man. There were, however, some in the group that were much more open with the awe they felt. Hushed whispers, blatant staring. The lot.
Walking forward with his hands bound and no idea why they were even keeping him alive, Dante was having an... interesting time. Truth be told, this was the opposite of what he imagined when he heard 'Island of Women'. His perverted fantasies didn't come close to the harrowing reality.
"Don't you people kill any men on the island? What makes me so special? Actually, don't answer that, it'll take too long."
The frustration was beginning to fester within the Kuja tribesmen, and it was becoming clear to them that their choice to neglect the male gender was the correct one if they all acted like Dante. He was, in purest form, a rascal. A rapscallion. Dare they say, a scallywag.
It went beyond simple annoyance at this point. Many wondered if their Empress would care if they killed the man right then and there, snuff his life out and claim the bounty he more than likely had if Hancock placed such importance on him.
At this point though, Dante was pretty bored. It was clear they had orders to take him in, and their refusal to answer any questions told him everything he needed. He wanted to see where this adventure today would take him though, so he swallowed his displeasure and sat along for the ride. Better this than another hour spent on those abhorrent calm waters.
Nothing else to do now but simply wait, and be walked along to wherever they took him. Hopefully the Kuja have a good concept of POW treatment.
'Wonder what Vergil's up to.' he thought to himself as the women began to pull his bindings harder. Day was slowly turning to night, and the Palace was coming into sight.
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Calm, solemn quiet. Despite what some would think knowing his brother, Vergil enjoyed the serenity of peace far more than most would expect. It was a time that he could enjoy the silence, a time where he could reflect.
His reflections often brought him to that fateful night. How everything fell apart in one fell swoop. How he could do nothing but fend for his life with what little skill he had at the time.
How she chose Dante over him.
It was a recurring nightmare, one that he had taken control of and turned into a motivator. Every time he relives that dream, he is reminded of why he fights. What he seeks. Why he needs it.
At this point, he had long since repressed the happy memories he and his brother made as children in favour of spurring his hatred further. Lost memories of sparring and story time with their mother before bed, of warm home meals and nights up past bedtime reading together.
He poked around the campfire he had made more, stoking the flames with a regular stick. He watched the flames as they rose and fell, licked at the surroundings, eager to destroy anything that lay in its path.
With nothing but the sound of birds chirping occasionally and fire burning, Vergil would sit for hours, staring mindlessly into the flames. Some small part of him spoke of Dante, of days spent camping in the hills, but he was not ready to hear it.
He just waited for dawn to break so he could continue his hunt, alone at the fire.
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With dawn arriving, so too did Dante at the Kuja Palace. At least, that was what he was calling it. It made sense, after all. He was escorted into the main hall, surrounded by a platoon of hunters through several hallways and doors, until eventually he came upon a room with a single throne.
"Well, well... I can see now why you've got such a reputation, Miss Hancock. My name is Dante, but I assume you already knew that."
Dante expected a civil conversation, maybe even an intellectual discussion about the nature of running an island with only women and what that means for fugure generations.
He did not expect for Hancock to raise her head far beyond the normal amount, meaning she could barely see anything but small twigs of silver to represent the half-devil.
"Silence, worm. To gaze upon my beautiful form without my permission is a sin, one I should have you hung for. Be thankful that you are more valuable to me alive than dead."
His smile dimmed. He most certainly had a long day ahead of him. Hopefully this woman wasn't all ego, because she was most certainly winning in the looks department, and that would bring her score down considerably.
He had more than enough time to make an evaluation though, thankfully.