"The Master always finds a way to make you submit," Hancock murmured, her voice tinged with a soft, reverent blush. It was as if she had fully surrendered, her mind consumed by an inescapable infatuation. She added, almost dreamily, "I've been completely and utterly tamed by him."
As she spoke, she turned her gaze toward Nico Robin, who stared back, perplexed.
After a brief pause, Hancock's fingers lightly brushed over the necklace resting on her neck.
Nico Robin furrowed her brows, uncertain of what was about to happen.
Click.
The seemingly delicate necklace expanded with a faint sound, transforming into a thick, ominous collar that now encased Hancock's slender, swan-like neck—pale and flawless, like alabaster.
Nico Robin was stunned, her breath catching in her throat. The necklace, which had appeared to accentuate Hancock's beauty, was now revealed as a slave's collar—a symbol of imprisonment wrapped around a figure so pure and majestic.
'It's like an angel's wings being tarnished,' Robin thought, 'its light dimmed by layers of dust.'
A wave of sorrow surged through Robin's chest as though something sacred had been defiled before her eyes. For a moment, she forgot how to breathe.
"Surprised?" Hancock's voice was eerily calm, her expression unchanged.
"I am Master's slave. Isn't it only natural for me to wear his collar?"
"But..." Robin's voice trembled, her lips barely forming the word. The concept of someone as regal and untouchable as Hancock being reduced to a mere plaything shattered her sensibilities.
Nico Robin had seen much and survived through horrors few could fathom.
Yet, the sight of Hancock, a woman of such noble stature, willingly allowing herself to be degraded in this way, broke something inside her.
Hancock had not only submitted—she had embraced it.
'Hancock, have you completely given up on yourself?' Robin wondered, her heart aching with conflicting emotions.
"Don't worry," Hancock said, her voice growing colder, "soon enough, you'll be just like me. You'll kneel before the Master willingly, pleasing him day and night, begging for more. You'll moan endlessly, lost in the pleasure he gives."
Her words were crude, laced with vulgarity. Still, her expression remained eerily detached, as if what she described was the most natural thing in the world.
The contrast between her chilling demeanor and the vile words she uttered left Robin disoriented. Her wide eyes reflected disbelief, a mix of shock and repulsion.
"Do you honestly think I'll surrender that easily?" Robin demanded, her voice sharper than she intended.
Hancock's response was a slight shake of her head, her lips curling in a faint, knowing smile. "No, I don't. But I trust in the Master's methods. He always finds a way."
Hancock rose gracefully from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom.
Moments later, the unmistakable sounds of soft, intimate moans drifted out.
" ah, mmm"
Robin's blood ran cold. Lakeman hadn't even commanded Hancock to serve him, yet she willingly offered herself here.
'Am I destined to end up like that too?' she wondered in growing terror.
It felt like icy fingers had wrapped around her heart.
'No.'
'Absolutely not.'
'I'd rather die than live like this.'
Over the next few days, Lakeman's torment became a nightly ordeal for Nico Robin. Her disgust and nausea grew with every encounter, making her physically ill. Yet, despite the relentless degradation, she couldn't deny the treasures he offered her during the day—rare manuscripts, historical records, priceless documents she had long dreamed of studying.
Her passion for history became the only thing that helped her endure the nights. The thought of reading just one more ancient text kept her going. Slowly, the need for knowledge began to chip away at her resolve, making her more vulnerable to Lakeman's manipulation.
And he was quick to take advantage.
"Straighten your back more," Lakeman commanded one evening as he pounded her pussy.
"Can't you make any noise?" His tone was teasing yet firm.
"Watch your sister Hancock. Learn from her. Take everything in, and don't let a single drop spill." Lakeman ordered her as he filled her mouth with his cum, some leaking from the corner of her mouth.
With each small act of submission, Robin found herself sinking deeper into his control. After only three days, she was horrified to realize that she had begun using her entire body to serve Lakeman. Worse still, she had mastered over ten intimate techniques that she never thought she'd know.
'Damn it.' She gritted her teeth, her heart boiling with frustration. Yet, she couldn't lash out no matter how much she loathed it.
Lakeman continued to tempt her with rare ancient books, including records thought to be lost forever.
Before her, the entire ancient and modern history of the Kingdom of Britain unfolded, offering her the chance to piece together a complete chronicle. She knew that she could accomplish what few had ever dreamed of if she had a year.
But deep down, she knew something was wrong.
'But that's not enough,' she thought bitterly.
'These materials may be enough to recruit me as a subordinate, but they'll never make me serve him willingly.'
Heh. Robin chuckled darkly to herself.
'Does he really think he can turn me into a willing slave, using my body to please him? It's impossible.'
Another night fell.
At dinner, Lakeman, Hancock, Shirley, and Robin gathered at a lavish table set with a feast. The sight only raised Robin's suspicion.
'More drugs in the food?' she thought bitterly, her expression darkening.
"Don't look at me like that," Lakeman said with a smirk, clearly noticing her unease.
"I don't drug you every night. My skills are more than enough to make you lose control."
Robin's face fell, her mood worsening.
Grabbing a piece of Sea King meat, she mechanically stuffed it into her mouth, chewing without much thought. As she did, she stared across the table at Lakeman as if imagining she were devouring him instead.
"If you ate me as seriously as you're eating that, it would be wonderful,"
Lakeman quipped, his voice filled with playful condescension.
Robin's eye twitched violently at the remark, but she held back her fury.
She knew she couldn't win against him—at least not like this.
"Stop teasing her and get to the point," Hancock said calmly, cutting through the tension. Her voice carried an air of authority, which Robin had never heard.
'Since when did Hancock start sounding like his official wife?' Robin thought, her brow furrowing.
Sensing the shift, Lakeman cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair.
"Alright, I'll get to it. Archeology is your passion, isn't it?" His blood-red eyes gleamed with interest.
Robin didn't respond, though her sharp gaze never wavered from his.
"What if I told you I could offer you protection to pursue your research freely? You could study history to your heart's content. I could even tell you the truth about the Void Century," Lakeman said, his smile widening with a knowing look.
Robin froze.
Her interest was piqued, but she hesitated. "Are you serious?" she finally asked, her voice laced with skepticism.
"Of course," Lakeman replied smoothly. "As a Celestial Dragon with real power, I can access the truth behind the World Government. Protecting a small 'demon's child' like you is nothing."
He leaned in slightly, his smile deepening. "As a gesture of goodwill, let me share a little secret about the Celestial Dragons."
"What secret?" Robin's curiosity was impossible to hide.
Beside her, Hancock shook her head subtly, already aware of the trap being laid.
"Do you know why the Celestial Dragons wear those ridiculous bubble helmets?" Lakeman asked, his tone casual.
Robin and Hancock were both caught off guard. They had never questioned the odd custom beyond the common belief that the Celestial Dragons refused to breathe the same air as commoners.
"There's more to it," Lakeman said, his voice growing darker. "One day, this world will be completely submerged by the sea. Those helmets? They're for breathing underwater."
Robin and Hancock stared at him in shock, unable to process what he was saying.
Lakeman continued without waiting for a response.
"Clue number one: the Holy Land of Mary Geoise, where the Celestial Dragons reside, sits at the highest point of the Red Line. It's the only place that won't be flooded."
He raised a finger. "Clue number two: all over the world, islands, and land masses are showing signs of erosion, the sea rising higher with each passing year."
Another finger. "Clue number three: most Celestial Dragons refuse to eat Devil Fruits because of this. They know what's coming."
When he finished, his gaze grew intense. "You can verify these claims yourself. I'm not lying."
Robin's mind raced. 'Could it be true? If the world was destined to be submerged, wouldn't that mean the destruction of countless nations, countless lives?'
"Is this the secret behind the Void Century?" Robin asked, her voice edged with urgency.
Hancock, too, was staring at Lakeman, waiting for his answer with bated breath.
"No," Lakeman said, shaking his head. "The Void Century covers the war between two immensely powerful individuals. "
Lakeman's blood-red eyes glinted as he leaned back, his expression calm yet predatory. "The victor of that war was the one who founded the World Government."
Robin's heart raced as the truth settled into place. All the fragments of history she had uncovered—the broken pieces of ancient knowledge—now aligned with Lakeman's revelation. The World Government, the very institution that had hunted her for years, was built on the ruins of a battle between two titanic forces.
Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, as she attempted to keep her composure. "So, you don't know the full truth yet claim to understand everything?"
Lakeman's smile widened, the confidence in his demeanor unnerving. "I don't need to know every last detail. The past is important, but it's the future I care about. What matters is what happened, not every nuance. I'm not concerned with reliving history—I'm focused on building a new World Government."
Robin's eyes narrowed, disbelief mingling with a rising sense of alarm.
"A... new World Government? One under your control?"
Boom.
The weight of Lakeman's words landed like a bomb, shaking both Robin and Hancock. The audacity of what he was suggesting left them momentarily speechless.
"You're planning to overthrow the current regime?" Robin finally asked, her voice sharper now, the disbelief in her tone impossible to hide.
She had heard of men with ambitions for power before, but this? This was on a scale unlike anything she had encountered.
Hancock, her brow furrowing, was the next to speak. "Master, you are already favored by the Five Elders. Your authority is second only to theirs. You're practically a prince within the World Government."
"In other words," Robin added, her voice steadying as she tried to make sense of it all, "aren't you already destined to inherit control? Why would you want to rebel against the very system that's set to grant you power?"
Lakeman chuckled softly as if amused by their inability to grasp the full scope of his plan.
"Ah, this brings us back to what I mentioned earlier," he said, his eyes gleaming with dark delight. "The victor from that ancient war—the one who founded the World Government—is still alive. And not just alive but thriving."
"What?" Both women froze the sheer absurdity of the statement, momentarily stunning them into silence.
"The victor from nine hundred years ago is still alive," Lakeman repeated, his tone almost casual. However, the words carried an unimaginable weight.
Hancock and Robin stared at him, their minds struggling to process the idea. It was impossible—no human could live that long. And yet, the confidence in Lakeman's voice suggested otherwise.
"That person has lived for over nine hundred years?" Hancock asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"How can anyone survive that long?" Robin echoed, disbelief flooding her senses.
Lakeman leaned back, clearly enjoying their reactions.
"There are many ways to extend one's life across the seas," he said, as though discussing a trivial matter. "For example, the longevity potion made from the millennial dragon bone marrow in the East Blue. Pure gold is rumored to grant eternal life. Or, there's the Soul-Soul Fruit, which allows the user to steal the lifespans of others."
His smile deepened, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "And then, of course, there's the Immortality Surgery, performed by the awakened Op-Op Fruit."
The room fell into a heavy silence. If these secrets ever became widely known, they would spark chaos on a global scale. The prospect of cheating death, of gaining eternal life, would ignite the world in flames.
Both women sat in stunned silence, their minds grappling with the realization that treasures capable of prolonging life truly existed—and that the World Government had access to them. It was overwhelming.
"For the first time, you're starting to understand the true depth of the World Government," Lakeman continued, his voice silky. "It's built on knowledge and resources that few can comprehend. And I intend to seize control of it all."
His blood-red eyes bore into Robin's as he delivered his final, damning blow. "Your homeland was destroyed by a Buster Call. If you want revenge, I can give it to you. Every single person who had a hand in it—whether they were Navy or CP—I could find. I'll let you deal with them however you wish."
A fire blazed in Robin's chest, and a familiar, long-dormant rage ignited once more. The thought of finally avenging her homeland—of punishing those who had robbed her of everything—was intoxicating. The flame of vengeance that had simmered within her for years roared to life.
Beside her, Hancock watched Robin with a knowing look. She could see the change, the shift in her demeanor. She's almost there, Hancock thought. 'It will soon be that she fully succumbs to Lakeman's offer.'
From tonight on, Hancock knew she would have an extra sister.
Robin straightened, her expression hardening with newfound resolve. Her gaze locked onto Lakeman's, sharp and unwavering.
"What do I have to pay for this?" she asked, her voice cold and severe.
Lakeman leaned back, clearly pleased with her response.
"I can fulfill your desire for revenge and your passion for archaeology," he said smoothly. But do you have any other desires? Are there any regrets that you still cling to?"
Robin considered his words for a long moment, the room heavy with anticipation. After a deep breath, she shook her head. "No. Nothing else."
Lakeman's smile widened.
"Then, could you die with no regrets?" His voice was soft but powerful, and every word pierced the tension between them.
"Yes," Robin answered firmly, nodding. There was no hesitation in her voice now. The weight of her decision settled over her like a shroud.
"Good," Lakeman said, satisfaction dripping from his words. "Then, in exchange for your revenge and the fulfillment of your archaeological pursuits, I want the rest of your life. Hand yourself over to me completely."
His hand extended toward her, an offer that held more than just a deal—it had her future, her fate.
Robin stared at his outstretched hand, her heart pounding. She knew that if she took it, there would be no turning back. Her life, her body, her soul would belong to him.
But in return, she would find peace. She would no longer have to wander aimlessly. The pain, the loss, and the uncertainty would all be washed away.
It seemed, at that moment, like an easy decision.
"Alright," she said softly, her voice steady as she placed her hand in his.
The weight of her choice echoed through her, heavy and irrevocable, like a stone sinking into still water.
Lakeman's grin was one of triumph as his hand closed around hers.
"Excellent," he said, his grip firm and possessive. "From now on, you will call me 'Master.'"
Robin's voice was calm, resolute. "Yes, Master."
That night, under Hancock's careful guidance, Nico Robin learned to fully please Lakeman. She was taught how to use every part of her body, how to move, and how to anticipate his desires before he even voiced them. She learned his preferences, dark pleasures, and every whim.
It was a night of madness, during which she shed the last remnants of her old self. As she and Lakeman intertwined, the woman she had once been was left behind. In her place was someone new—someone who had given everything to him.
By the time she awoke the next day, it was already evening. The sky outside the window glowed with the fading light of the setting sun, casting the room in a soft, amber hue.
Robin lay quietly on the large, luxurious bed, her eyes fixed on the horizon. Her mind was calm, as though past turmoil had been washed away.
"So, this is what you meant, Hancock," she murmured, her voice quiet as she gazed out the window. "When you said the Master always finds a way to make you submit."
Nico Robin exited the palace a week later, returning to the outside world after her transformation. The air felt sharper, the world more vivid.
Everything had changed.
By carefully observing Hancock, Nico Robin had gradually learned how to interact with Lakeman. During the day, the two women remained cold and distant, showing no affection toward him. They had learned how to use subtle cunning to avoid being given too many tasks.
At night, however, they had no choice but to serve him. Hancock had taught her that even in submission, there was a way to maintain control—to turn their servitude into a game of resistance. Lakeman, for all his dominance, enjoyed the challenge.
Robin had adapted quickly, and Lakeman noticed.
"As expected of a girl who earned her PhD at the age of eight," he said one evening, his tone laced with amusement. "You learn fast."
The comment made Robin's blood boil, her teeth grinding in frustration. But after hearing such remarks enough times, she had grown accustomed to them.
'It's nothing,' she told herself. 'Words are the least of what he's taken from me.'
One afternoon, Lakeman summoned Vice Admiral Kizaru to oversee Robin's combat training, much to Kizaru's dismay.
"Vice Admiral Kizaru, I have to trouble you again," Lakeman said with a grin, patting Kizaru on the shoulder before turning and walking away.
Kizaru stood there, his face a mask of disbelief and reluctant duty. He had followed Lakeman to the Kingdom of Britain as part of his assignment, but this? Training the Demon Child?
"Nico... Robin," Kizaru muttered, eyeing the dark-haired girl before him. His mouth twitched with discomfort.
'How am I supposed to teach her?' he thought, incredulous. This was the very girl the Navy had been hunting for years.
"Saint Lakeman, are you trying to get me killed?" Kizaru whispered under his breath, his voice full of misery. With a sigh of resignation, he began to instruct Robin in the basics of combat.
During the midday break, Kizaru quickly pulled out a Den Den Mushi, his hands trembling as he dialed Sengoku's number.
Buru, buru—
Back at Marineford, Sengoku picked up the receiver.
"Kizaru?" he asked.
"It's bad, Marshal. I've seen Nico Robin," Kizaru said, his voice full of urgency.
"The Demon Child!?" Sengoku's eyes widened, his interest piqued.
"Where? In the Kingdom of Britain?"
"Did you capture her?"
"No," Kizaru replied, his voice hollow. "She's… staying by Saint Lakeman's side. Receiving combat training from me."
Sengoku: ???
He stared at the receiver in confusion, wondering if something was wrong with his ears.
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