"Sucker Punch!!!" Dora's massive fist, coated with Armament Haki, rammed into John Giant's face, sending him flying. As he crashed into the mountain, the entire island rumbled. It was a spectacle to see giants locked in a primal brawl.
John Giant, realizing he had few options, had challenged Dora directly with the agreement that the winner could make one request of the loser. As John was sent flying, the other giants from the Marine squadron seemed uneasy.
The Vice Admiral was the strongest among the giants who had joined the Marines, but Dora was simply toying with the giant, who was more than a century old. They very much wanted to gang up on Dora and beat her into submission, but my presence was enough to deter them from making any stupid moves.
The battlefield shook with each clash of the titans. Dora, her fists cloaked in the shimmering black of Armament Haki, moved with a ferocity and speed that belied her massive size. John Giant, wielding a saber as large as a ship's mast, picked himself up from the rubble with blood streaming down his face. He launched himself forward again, meeting her with equal determination, his own Armament Haki coating his weapon in a dark, steely gleam.
"Who are you? You cannot be any regular giant," John roared as his saber followed a deadly trajectory.
"I am the one who is going to teach you what being a giant truly means," Dora roared back, venting her anger. I had told her almost all the atrocities that the World Government had done to wandering giants, and the fact that even giants had helped them in such endeavors irked her.
"I will make sure that you will never lay your hands on another giant henceforth," she vowed, and the island shook under her mad charge.
Their exchange was a symphony of destruction. Dora's fist collided with John Giant's saber, the impact creating a shockwave that rippled through the island, causing trees to snap like twigs and the ground to crack and heave. Both giants were thrown back, but Dora was quick to recover, her Observation Haki giving her the edge as she anticipated John's next move.
John roared and lunged, bringing his saber down with a force that split the air. Dora sidestepped with surprising agility, her own fist countering in a blur of motion. She drove her punch into John's ribs, the Haki-infused blow sending him skidding back, his feet digging deep trenches in the earth. The mountain behind him groaned and crumbled, loose rocks tumbling down in a cascade.
Not one to be outdone, John used his momentum to swing his saber in a wide arc, the blade catching the light as it came towards Dora with deadly precision. She blocked with her forearm, the clash sending sparks flying.
With a swift twist, she deflected the blade and closed the distance, her fists a whirlwind of devastating punches. Each hit landed with the force of a titan, creating craters in the ground and shattering nearby boulders into dust.
"Damn you! I will have your head, you dumb cunt!" John roared. I couldn't help but narrow my eyes. I didn't like when others cursed at my family, but for now, I kept my anger in check as I didn't want to intervene in Dora's fight.
"What did you just say?" Dora roared, uprooting a massive tree and slamming it into John's face while infusing it with Haki, sending the opponent flying again.
"Vice Admiral!!!" the other giants roared, wanting to intervene. But just as they took a step, a massive pressure descended on them, like the sky itself had come down on them, sending them crashing onto their knees.
The sheer pressure of my Conqueror's Haki was not something they could handle. Three of the giants succumbed to the Haki's pressure, foaming at the mouth, while Lacroix was using his arm to push himself up, or at least he tried, but his face was pinned to the ground.
The other two giants were prostrated on the ground, cracks spreading where they were pinned. I just smirked as I kept my eyes on the fight going on in front of me while the rest of the giants struggled to keep their consciousness.
Even the Marines on the ship were all knocked out. The massive Sea Kings, however, couldn't help but sweat. Though the pressure was not targeted at them, they had experienced the terror before, so they couldn't help but shiver as they prowled on the edge of the island.
They did not dare to leave without my permission because they knew the fate of anyone who tried to escape, having witnessed the fate of dozens of their kin who had been defiant.
"Ptui…! Do you think you can best me with just this?" John roared as he ripped apart his torn Marine cloak and shirt and tossed them aside, exposing his bare upper body. His ripped muscles and countless scars told the story of a lifetime of battles.
"Did you think I got nothing in return from the World Government for giving them my allegiance?" he bellowed in laughter. "It's time I show you what a giant can truly do when he unlocks his full potential." His entire body suddenly turned warm, and his eyes became bloodshot. His skin started turning crimson. "Behold the power of a true giant, you bitch!"
But before he could showboat, Dora's massive fist landed on his face. Unlike earlier, he stood his ground and turned to face Dora.
"Is that all you got..! That gave me quite the itch," he spat. However, Dora didn't let up and rained down a barrage of attacks, her fists coated with Haki.
I was observing the fight from the sidelines. John's resilience was remarkable, but after whatever he had done, it was skyrocketing. Even with my Voice of All Things, I could detect that his vitality had just shot up multiple folds from what it was earlier.
Despite the punishment, he held his ground due to the power-up, his own Observation Haki allowing him to narrowly evade Dora's most lethal strikes.
He countered with powerful slashes, his saber creating shockwaves that cut through the landscape. One such wave cleaved through a nearby mountain, sending a massive chunk crashing into the sea.
The fight escalated, their movements blurring into a frenzied dance of destruction. Dora's fist slammed into John's saber, sending it flying from his grasp. She followed up with a thunderous uppercut that lifted the giant off his feet, his body soaring into the air before crashing back down with earth-shattering force.
"Hahaha! Is that the best you can do?" John taunted. Dora frowned, not understanding why someone she was beating up one-sidedly had gained a sudden power-up. But I realized that John must have undergone some modifications.
He must have allowed the World Government to experiment on him in exchange for greater power. The primal brawl continued, each clash leaving the island scarred and broken, a testament to the titanic battle of wills and a giant's power.
**********
Pleasure Island, North Blue
Within the depths of a squalid slum, inside a tattered house made of broken metal sheets, a woman lay screaming. She had gone into labor, but there was no one by her side except for a little girl who was only eight or nine years old.
"Mother... mother, tell me what to do!" Little Monet's voice was fraught with worry. Her life had been filled with hardship since birth, and the only light in all that darkness was her mother.
Despite her disability, her mother worked as a pleasure worker to make ends meet. Monet's father, however, was a demon in human disguise. He was as abusive as they came, using his own wife's body as a bargaining chip to gamble and drink. It was he who had forced her mother into the sex trade. A meek woman, her mother had endured everything for Monet's sake all these years.
Despite his wife's labor, Monet's father was nowhere to be seen. Little Monet was certain he was off drinking and gambling somewhere. In recent months, since her mother was heavily pregnant, he had not been getting enough money and had become more abusive.
The countless scars and lash marks on her body were a testament to his cruelty. Monet had come to realize many harsh truths at a young age. She had started working odd jobs since she was three because her father snatched away everything her mother earned.
The money Monet earned in secret filled their bellies. Despite all the hardship, she had managed to save enough money to get her mother medical help during the pregnancy. But her father found out and took the money. The beating he gave her left her unconscious for two days.
When she woke up, she heard her mother screaming in pain from labor. Monet was lost, not knowing what to do. Though she pretended to be strong, it was all too much for a little girl to bear.
"Monet... Monet," her mother whimpered in pain, her eyes rolling back. She knew her chances of surviving were minimal, so she called her daughter closer. She saw Monet's legs had bled, understanding that her daughter must have run around the dump of the slum seeking help. But kindness was long forgotten in this place.
"Mother... stay with me, please! Please don't leave me!" Monet pleaded, kneeling next to her dying mother, tears streaming down her face.
"Sugar... her name's Sugar," her mother whispered. Despite the child not yet being born, she knew in her gut it must be a girl. "She will bring you all the happiness and sweetness of life, just like sugar," she muttered. Sugar was a luxury to people struggling to make ends meet, and naming a child Sugar meant that the mother wanted her child to live like a princess.
Monet's heart shattered into pieces. Her mother's voice grew weaker with each word. The reality of her mother's impending death crashed over her like a relentless wave. She clutched her mother's hand, feeling the life slip away with every passing second.
Her mind raced with memories of her mother's gentle smile, the way she sang lullabies despite her own sorrows, and the warmth of her embrace that shielded Monet from the cruel world outside.
Monet's childhood had been stolen from her, replaced by a relentless struggle for survival. She had endured beatings, hunger, and the cold indifference of a society that had forgotten the meaning of compassion.
Now, as she sat next to her dying mother, she felt a fierce determination take root in her heart. She would fight for Sugar's future, for a life free from the horrors that had plagued their existence.
Bang!!!
Suddenly, the door to their little abode burst open as someone kicked it in. Three men stepped into the shabby home, which barely fit them. Little Monet instinctively picked up the rusted kitchen knife, standing defensively.
"Hehehe! It looks like we have a feisty one here. Good, good!" The man in the lead, with a snake-like grin, had eyes that glinted with malice. His slicked-back hair and sharp, angular features gave him a predatory look. Dressed in a tattered suit that had seen better days, he seemed cunning and dangerous. The two burly men following him, muscle-bound and thuggish, were clearly his enforcers.
"Get out... get out of our house!" Monet's tiny voice trembled as she threatened them, but the man in the lead simply disregarded her, his eyes falling on her mother, who was still barely breathing.
"It seems like we made it in time. She's still alive!" He chuckled darkly. Just as Monet was about to charge, another man stumbled into the home, all drunk and reeking of alcohol. He was disheveled, his beard soaked in what seemed like his own vomit.
Calling him an animal would be an insult to animals, but it was his eyes—the eyes that held all the cruelty—that sent shivers down Monet's little body, making her unconsciously drop the knife in her hand.
"Well, well, if it isn't my precious little family," the drunk man slurred, leering at Monet and her mother. This was her father, the source of all their suffering.
Monet's heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to protect her mother and sister, but fear paralyzed her. The leader of the intruders stepped closer, surveying the scene with a smirk.
"Your timing is impeccable, old man. We were just about to take care of our business here," the leader said, his voice dripping with condescension.
"Just get it done; you have already paid for the goods , so it's all yours." Monet's father grunted, staggering to a corner and collapsing in a heap, utterly indifferent to the horror unfolding before him.
The leader turned back to Monet, his eyes narrowing. "Now, little girl, why don't you be a good child and step aside? We're here for your mother."
"No!" Monet screamed, her voice cracking with desperation. "You can't take her!"
The leader laughed, a cold, heartless sound. "Oh, but we can, and we will. She's still breathing, which means she's still useful. And your father here has already sold her to us for a decent price.."
One of the burly men moved towards Monet, but she stood her ground, her small frame trembling with a mix of fear and determination. She glanced at her mother, who lay weakly on the bed, and at her cruel father, who had gone ahead and sold his own wife. He stirred, rummaging through the pots and pans, wanting to find something to eat. He grumbled in dissatisfaction, not finding anything.
"Leave us alone!" Monet shouted, tears streaming down her face. "You can't take them!"
The leader's expression hardened. "Enough of this. Grab the woman and let's go."
The second thug advanced, grabbing Monet by the arm and yanking her away from her mother. Monet struggled, kicking and screaming, but she was no match for the brute strength of the man holding her. He threw her to the ground, and she hit the floor with a painful thud.
"Please, don't take her!" Monet sobbed, crawling towards her mother.
The leader bent down, his face inches from Monet's. "This is the way of the world, little girl. The strong take what they want, and the weak suffer."
With that, he stood up and signaled to his men. The two thugs lifted Monet's mother from the bed, her body limp and unresponsive. Monet's cries filled the tiny room as they dragged her mother away.
*********
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