The two bid farewell to the pitiful Koala (they didn't) and leisurely strolled into the arena.
Orochimaru, held by Sabo, felt extremely uncomfortable. Sabo, like a thief, would hide him in one corner for a while, then dart to another.
That cautious demeanor made Orochimaru incredibly embarrassed. Is this how the Revolutionary Army carries out missions?
When they finally spotted Luffy, the scene before them made them pause.
Luffy, having inadvertently exposed his identity by talking to Chinjo, was now being relentlessly pursued by Cavendish.
Luffy dodged left and right, all while shouting something.
Cavendish, with a grim expression, gripped his weapon... roaring and chasing Luffy, determined not to stop until he cut him down.
(◞ ‸ ◟) Alas... Sabo and Orochimaru sighed simultaneously.
Especially Orochimaru; should he feel bad for Law? Luffy's actions made his already pointless disguise even more meaningless.
As Chinjo joined the fray, the situation became increasingly uncontrollable.
The arena soldiers also rushed over to maintain order.
For a time, dust flew in the arena, and the shouts of battle shook the heavens.
As the smoke and dust gradually cleared, everyone was astonished to find that Luffy had long since vanished.
Cavendish, acting like a madman, roared Luffy's name and sprinted frantically towards the arena's exit.
Orochimaru looked at the chaotic scene, a splitting headache forming. He rubbed his temples. Are these people blind? Can't they see the obvious fingers on the windowsill?
Anyone with eyes could tell Luffy was hanging outside, but they just ignored it?
After a moment of speechlessness, Orochimaru looked at Sabo, slowly raising his long, well-defined hand.
He gently placed it on Sabo's shoulder, his gaze holding an indescribable tenderness.
"You go find Luffy. I have other matters to attend to."
Sabo's heart felt as if it had been stirred, and a surge of reluctance instantly filled him.
Sabo, like a cat clinging to its owner, leaned into Orochimaru, gently rubbing his face against Orochimaru's neck. His warm breath softly caressed Orochimaru's skin, and he mumbled,
"Damn it, I haven't held you enough."
But he also understood the urgency of the situation. Despite his deep unwillingness, he slowly released his arms from around Orochimaru.
His eyes were full of helplessness as he watched Orochimaru's retreating back until it gradually blurred.
Then, he took a deep breath, hid himself in the corner, but Orochimaru's scent and touch still lingered in his mind. He was utterly dispirited, like a cat who had lost its catnip.
Orochimaru strolled leisurely along the windows of the arena's second floor.
Occasionally, he would casually glance through the window at the intense battles inside the arena, his eyes holding a hint of laziness and playfulness.
That shirtless man in the blue cloak is King Riku, right? He's still so strong for his age. Has no one recognized him? The soldiers' so-called loyalty seems a bit watered down.
These seeded contestants all seem to be part of the anti-Doffy alliance, right?
And a few of them will be Luffy's subordinates later on.
Orochimaru watched the battle above with interest.
Until Bartolomeo's actions captured his full attention—Bartolomeo stood at the edge of the arena, pulled down his pants, and started to relieve himself.
Orochimaru's steps seemed to be under a paralysis spell, and he fell silent for a moment.
His heart was in a tangled struggle. What should he do? His acknowledged subordinate was a bit embarrassing; he didn't want him anymore.
But if he let him continue like this, Orochimaru felt his reputation would be damaged... After hesitating and taking a few more steps, Orochimaru finally couldn't bear it anymore.
He quickly pulled out a megaphone, which he hadn't used in a long time, held it to his mouth, and loudly reprimanded, "Barto! Hold it in!"
The sound echoed through the megaphone, reverberating over the arena, causing everyone to turn their heads, all astonished by the sudden shout.
Bartolomeo, who was in a state of extreme relaxation and comfortable excretion, froze instantly upon hearing Orochimaru's reprimand.
He was like a puppet whose strings had been cut, his body stiffening into stone. One could even see faint cracks appearing on his rigid form, as if he would shatter into dust the next second.
After all, Orochimaru's voice was very unique, and as a devoted fan, Bartolomeo would certainly not forget it. At this moment, his mind was blank, filled only with:
"It's over, he actually peed so ungracefully in front of Senior Orochimaru..."
A moment later, he finally recovered from the extreme shock, but how could one control bodily functions at will? Could this urine be held back once it started flowing?
He could only frantically try to turn and cover himself. Just then, Hack silently walked behind Bartolomeo, muttering, "Excuse me, I'm going to ambush you. Please forgive me."
Before he finished speaking, Bartolomeo turned too abruptly, and the still-flowing urine streamed directly onto Hack.
Hack instantly stood frozen in place.
Bartolomeo, looking at the person he had just peed on, sighed, "What a good person... he actually came to help me cover up."
Bartolomeo finally managed to relieve himself of his "stock," and didn't forget to shake it off and wipe it clean. After confirming it was clean, he put it back. He even squatted down and washed his hands in the fish-filled water trough at the edge of the arena before pulling up his pants.
He kept thinking that Senior Orochimaru was extremely particular about cleanliness, and he couldn't leave an even worse impression on him.
Sabo, who was secretly watching, saw this entire scene. Seeing Hack's disheveled state after being peed on, he suddenly raised his hand and slapped his forehead hard, his face filled with conflict.
Hack was, in a way, half his master, but in this embarrassing situation, he truly didn't know how to face him. He even had the urge to pretend not to know him.
What to do, urgent online. Hack seems to be carrying his personal transponder snail, right? Oh... no... that's Koala's. Good, good, he didn't get dirty.
And in the arena, the moment Bartolomeo's urine splashed onto Hack,
The surrounding contestants seemed to trigger some kind of unified avoidance mechanism, almost simultaneously retreating sharply, moving away from these two "sources of trouble" in perfect unison.
Their faces were filled with horror, and they reached an unspoken consensus without even needing eye contact.
At this moment, all competition, disputes, and ranking struggles were cast aside. After all, compared to those, no one wanted to be sprayed by this sudden "flood."
Even a tiny bit was intolerable to them.
Thanks to this Fishman brother for his self-sacrifice.
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