Through the settling dust, York's silhouette was menacing.
He raised a hand. Dozens of glowing tentacles—like the limbs of a holy octopus—shot out from the smoke.
The female members of the God's Knights, still reeling from the shockwave, couldn't dodge.
"AH—!!"
The tentacles wrapped around their wrists and ankles. The pleasure hit them instantly. Their knees buckled, and they collapsed, gasping for air, their strength drained by ecstasy.
"PIRATE!!"
Saint Garling roared.
Black-red lightning exploded from his blade. He slashed the air, severing York's light tentacles instantly.
He charged.
His saber—a Supreme Grade Blade—was wreathed in Conqueror's Haki. He swung horizontally, intending to decapitate the intruder.
York didn't dodge. He coated his fist in black-red lightning.
CLANG!
Fist met blade.
The sky above God Valley turned black. Dark clouds swirled and split open, mirroring the clash between legends.
BOOM!
Both men were blasted backward.
York skidded to a halt amidst the group of drugged Celestial Dragons. Garling landed back among his Knights.
York grinned, wiping a trickle of blood from his cheek.
"I thought the Champion of God Valley would be on par with Roger or Rocks! Turns out... you're barely keeping up with me!"
York's confidence soared. In the manga, Garling was hyped as a monster. But perhaps his true peak—or his immortality—came later. Right now, he was mortal.
And mortals could be bargained with.
"Our strength is matched," York shouted across the plaza. "We could fight all day. But by the time one of us wins, someone else will have stolen the prize."
York raised his hand.
ZIP!
New tentacles shot out, wrapping around the necks of twenty-three Celestial Dragons.
"Let's make a deal, Garling."
"These nobles... they have families, right? If too many of them die on your watch, even the Figarland Family will have trouble explaining it to the Five Elders."
Garling froze. His face twisted in fury.
"This is a threat!"
"It is," York agreed cheerfully. "A blatant one."
"What do you want?!" Garling growled.
York pointed a finger at the podium.
"The Devil Fruits. All of them."
"And Shakky."
"IMPOSSIBLE!!" Garling refused instantly. Those fruits were treasures of the world, collected for the Gods.
York's eyes went cold.
He clenched his fist slightly. He ramped up the fruit's output on one specific tentacle.
"OH... OH GOD... NO..."
A Celestial Dragon screamed. The pleasure turned into agony, overloading his heart.
THUMP.
He collapsed, dead from euphoric exhaustion.
The other hostages screamed in panic.
"GARLING! AGREE TO HIM!"
"I CAN'T DIE! MY FATHER IS A SAINT!"
"IT'S JUST FRUIT AND A WOMAN! GIVE THEM TO HIM!"
"IF WE DIE, THE FIGARLAND FAMILY WILL BE IMPEACHED!!"
Garling grit his teeth so hard they nearly cracked.
'Idiots! Do you know what those fruits are?!'
Shakky was expendable. But the fruits? Among them were Mythical Zoans and Logias that could shift the balance of the world. To give them to a pirate was madness.
But politics was a crueler master than war.
If York slaughtered two dozen Celestial Dragons, Garling would be executed for incompetence.
Garling took a deep breath. He slowly sheathed his sword.
"How can I trust you?"
"You can't," York smiled. "But you have no choice."
"Either you give me the loot, and I leave."
"Or... I kill two-thirds of them. I'll leave one survivor from each of the 19 Families to tell the tale. I guarantee you will become the most hated man in Mary Geoise."
Garling's veins bulged. The threat was perfect. It was political suicide.
"Fine."
Garling spat the word out.
"Take the fruits. Take the woman. But if you harm another hair on their heads... I will hunt you to the ends of the earth."
York beamed.
"Only the wise submit to circumstances!"
York moved quickly.
Using the hostages as a human shield, he walked to the podium.
He opened the first chest. A swirly fruit. He tossed it into a burlap sack.
Second. Third... Ninth.
"Nine fruits..." York muttered, suppressing a greedy laugh. "Jackpot."
He grabbed the sack and looked at Garling.
"Here's half of your trash back."
He released the tentacles from twelve hostages. They scrambled toward Garling, weeping.
"Now... where is she?"
Garling pointed to a small, reinforced door built into the base of the podium.
York walked over. He used Internal Destruction Haki to shatter the lock.
CLICK.
The door swung open.
The room was surprisingly clean. Standing in the center was a woman. She wasn't tortured or disheveled. She was impeccably dressed, calm, and beautiful.
Shakuyaku.
Her hands were bound behind her back, chained to the floor.
She looked up as the door opened.
Her eyes widened. Hope flared... and then dimmed.
A mix of emotions crossed her face—relief, shock, and a deep, crushing disappointment.
'It's not Rayleigh... it's York...'
"Shakky!"
York grinned, stepping inside. "I've come to save you!"
He saw the disappointment in her eyes. He didn't care.
Gloriosa had loved Roger once. Stussy had loved Whitebeard. Now, they both belonged to him. Shakky would be no different.
He walked behind her to unlock the cuffs.
"Be careful!" Shakky warned sharply. "Those are Seastone!"
York paused. He glanced back at Garling, who was watching from outside with a hand on his sword, waiting for York to weaken.
York smirked. He pulled a simple steel knife from his pocket.
"I figured they would be."
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