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Nine Snake Island had been filled with beautiful women and joyful laughter for ten straight days. No one expected that this particular afternoon would bring an uninvited guest—one whose arrival would mark the beginning of the end. After so many years of comfortable existence, it was finally time to pay the price for their accumulated privileges.
A sphere of brilliant blue lightning descended from the cloudless sky, crackling with barely-contained voltage as it hovered in mid-air above the island's central plaza. The unnatural phenomenon immediately caught the attention of the female warriors on patrol duty, their hands instinctively moving to the weapons at their waists. Years of training overrode momentary confusion, bodies tensing into combat-ready stances.
"How can lightning strike in broad daylight when there's not a single cloud?" one warrior whispered, her eyes squinting against the electric glow.
"There's... there's a figure inside that lightning," another breathed, fear creeping into her voice.
The next instant, Admiral Kennen unleashed his power.
Hundreds of lightning chains erupted from his transformed body, spreading outward like the branches of some terrible electric tree. The bolts moved with precision rather than chaos—calculated strikes designed to incapacitate rather than kill. Female warriors of Nine Snake Island who were caught by the lightning chains convulsed as voltage coursed through their bodies, consciousness fleeing before pain could fully register. They collapsed where they stood, smoke rising gently from their unconscious forms.
Fortunately, everyone retained their lives. All thanks to the invader's unexpected mercy.
The enemy defense alarm blared across the island—a wailing siren that transformed the atmosphere in an instant. The lively welcome banquet became a battlefield in seconds. Women who had been laughing and dancing moments ago now scrambled for weapons, their festive clothing replaced by combat gear with practiced efficiency. The entire island mobilized as one organism, every citizen understanding their role without needing explicit orders.
Most citizens of both daughter countries—Nine Snake Island and Paradise Island alike—belonged to combat units. They understood viscerally that if they didn't take up arms to protect themselves, no one else would do it for them. They couldn't rely on men in this world. They had only each other and their own strength.
From his vantage point hovering above, Admiral Kennen observed the female warriors surrounding him from below. Despite the variety of weapons clutched in their hands—swords, spears, bows enhanced with Haki—these weaklings posed no real threat. He could snuff out all their lives with a casual gesture, a slight raising of his small hands. But Admiral Raizumi, who believed in the philosophy of balance, had no desire to cause excessive slaughter.
"My target this time is only Boa Hancock," Kennen announced, his high-pitched voice crackling with residual static that made it carry further than his small stature would suggest. "The rest of you should flee while you can. Don't throw away your lives for someone else's crimes."
The women stared up at the diminutive figure in purple, his entire body wreathed in dancing arcs of electricity. The terrifying voltage blooming from his frame made the air itself smell of ozone. None of them dared to be the first to attack.
Faced with this type of Devil Fruit ability—one that could discharge lethal amounts of electricity—they were painfully aware that their mortal bodies couldn't resist the power of lightning. Their Armament Haki might provide some defense, but against a Logia-type Admiral? The gap in power was insurmountable.
Yet despite this brutal calculus of survival, the people of Nine Snake Island could not abandon their Empress and flee.
The prosperity Nine Snake Island enjoyed today existed entirely due to Boa Hancock's solitary efforts. The Empress had used her strength, her beauty, and her Shichibukai status to expand considerable living space for the Kingdom of Daughters. She'd negotiated trade agreements that other isolated nations could never dream of achieving. She'd protected them from pirates who would have razed the island given any opportunity.
The citizens didn't live lives of decadent wealth and luxury—Nine Snake Island lacked the resources for that. But at least they had enough food to fill their bellies and sufficient clothing to keep warm. More importantly, they didn't have to worry about elderly female warriors being driven from the Amazon Lily Kingdom when age robbed them of combat effectiveness. Boa Hancock had established retirement provisions, housing for the old, care for the infirm.
This kindness and generational foresight were enough to make the people of Nine Snake Island willing to die for Boa Hancock. The Empress had become the most representative ruler in this country's entire history, leaving a unique mark upon what was admittedly a brief timeline for any nation.
When the domestic alarm first sounded, Boa Hancock had been in the midst of enjoying afternoon tea with Diana, discussing the architectural differences between their respective island paradises. Her younger sister Boa Sandersonia burst into the palace chambers without ceremony, her serpentine lower body propelling her forward with desperate speed.
"Sister! We're under attack!" Sandersonia gasped out the briefest summary of the foreign invasion, her words tumbling over each other. "A Marine Admiral—lightning powers—already incapacitated the outer patrol!"
A gloomy expression darkened Boa Hancock's perfect features, shadows pooling in her deep blue eyes. She felt disturbed and deeply offended. The woman's anger rose like a tidal wave, and she no longer cared about maintaining composure before her honored guest from Paradise Island.
"How dare the Marine show up here uninvited?" Hancock's voice dripped with venom, each word carefully enunciated. "Haven't they learned enough from the Battle of Marineford? They're a bunch of idiots actively seeking death."
Diana rose from her seat, hand moving instinctively toward the sword that rested against her chair. "Hancock, let me come with you. Two warriors are better than one, and—"
"No." The Empress cut her off with a sharp gesture. "This is a minor household matter. I won't trouble my friends with such trivial affairs." Pride blazed in her eyes—the pride that had carried her through slavery and out the other side stronger. "If I can't handle domestic issues competently, it would only make me lose face before Paradise Island. I must preserve my dignity."
Diana hesitated, clearly unconvinced, but ultimately nodded. She understood pride. She'd been raised with it, trained to embody it. "Then I'll wait here. But if you need assistance—"
"You'll know," Hancock finished, already striding toward the door. Without bothering with extensive preparation, she grabbed her favorite white cape and fastened it around her shoulders, the fabric billowing dramatically as she rushed toward the scene of the incident. The woman intended to deal with the uninvited guest as swiftly as possible, already planning how she'd petrify the arrogant fool who'd dared violate her territory.
"Are the Marines so utterly devoid of manners now?" Boa Hancock's imperious voice preceded her physical arrival, carrying across the plaza with perfect clarity. "Showing up in my country without even the courtesy of a formal declaration? You're nothing but barbarians."
The crowd parted automatically, citizens creating a pathway for the world's most beautiful woman to make her entrance. Boa Hancock strode into view like a goddess descending from heaven, every movement calculated for maximum visual impact. Her long legs carried her forward with feline grace, the purple cheongsam hugging curves that had inspired poetry and madness in equal measure.
Admiral Raizumi pulled out an official Marine wanted poster, his small hands holding it steady as he carefully compared the image with the woman below. Yes—definitely an ugly hairless female, exactly as depicted. The identification step was complete. Now came the formal procedure.
He would respect the prisoner's human rights by fully informing her of the charges and justification for arrest. One must always claim the moral high ground, leaving no evidence the enemy could exploit in propaganda.
This face-saving project could dramatically reduce the Marine's operational costs. Improving public perception of the New Marine among sea-faring populations would invisibly narrow the distance between rulers and ruled. This was precisely what Fleet Admiral Artoria Pendragon wished to see—a Marine that served justice rather than arbitrary power.
"According to our latest strategic directives," Kennen announced in his crackling voice, "Boa Hancock, your title as one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea has been revoked. All Shichibukai privileges are hereby rescinded. Today marks the time to settle accounts for the crimes you've committed under false protection."
Boa Hancock couldn't help but roll her eyes at the pompous declaration. Had the Marine suffered collective brain damage? Why revoke her Shichibukai title without even offering a decent justification? The perfunctory nature of this announcement was almost insulting.
The Seven Warlords of the Sea enjoyed numerous privileges—legal piracy within designated territories, the ability to requisition minor prisoners from Marine custody, access to heavily guarded government facilities. There were countless benefits attached to the title, advantages that accelerated any pirate's ascent to power.
After becoming Shichibukai, many pirates experienced explosive growth, entering a developmental fast lane that would have been impossible otherwise. Crocodile and Doflamingo served as perfect examples—both had built criminal empires using their Warlord status as cover. Similarly, Nine Snake Island had developed rapidly in recent years, its population doubling compared to two decades prior.
How could she surrender such a lucrative position so easily? Boa Hancock's fury toward this Marine she'd never encountered before reached its absolute peak. She would teach this arrogant dwarf a lesson he wouldn't survive long enough to remember.
The Empress raised her hands, forming a heart shape with her fingers. Her temperament shifted in an instant—from cold imperial authority to seductive temptation, her expression melting into an irresistible invitation. Heart-shaped pink light gathered between her palms, pulsing with dangerous allure.
"Mero Mero Mellow!"
The heart-shaped beam shot directly toward Admiral Kennen's hovering form, crossing the distance in a blink. It passed straight through his lightning-transformed body without resistance.
The petrification effect everyone expected simply... didn't occur.
Complete silence fell over the plaza, the absence of sound almost painful. The awkward atmosphere hung thick enough to taste.
Boa Hancock slowly lowered her hands, heart gesture dissolving. There was one thing she absolutely could not accept—her signature technique, which always worked on men, had failed completely. The intruder had resisted the fatal attraction of the world's most beautiful woman without any apparent external assistance.
Is something wrong with my charm?
For the first time in years, the Empress felt genuine uncertainty about her appearance. But as someone who'd built an entire persona on unshakable pride, she quickly suppressed this negative emotion. The woman refused to believe her allure had somehow diminished.
Boa Hancock proceeded to make various adorable expressions on the spot—tilting her head cutely, biting her lower lip in faux-innocent confusion, striking poses that would have brought lesser men to their knees. She deployed every weapon in her arsenal of seduction, hoping one of them would capture the Marine's attention enough that he'd willingly kneel beneath her skirt and open his heart to accept the fate of petrification.
But this time, disappointment was inevitable.
To Admiral Kennen's Mink sensibilities, any human female looked exactly as attractive as a hairless monkey. Which is to say: not at all.
The complete absence of fur made them fundamentally, irredeemably ugly in his eyes. No amount of posing would change that basic biological incompatibility between their species' aesthetic standards.