Launcher returned to her seat in the stands, while her associates booed and jeered at Slick's victory. It seemed that while she could do no wrong and they held her on a pedestal regardless of circumstances, the same was not afforded to the man that beat her at her own game. The booing grew louder and louder, followed by a throwing of popcorn and peanuts. Just when it looked like a fight was about to break out...

BOOM!

The deafening roar of a cannon swept the hall, and a hole was torn through the ceiling. Everyone immediately turned their attention to the island's master, captain AR-36 "Bullet" Bill. For some strange reason his mouth seemed to be expelling smoke. "That's enough! Now this attitude is completely unacceptable! If'n yer so pissed on account a' our loss, then let's see one o'you step up an' do better! Anybody? Di'nt think so. Remember, findin' strong pirates is the whole reason we put together this competition. Now anybody have a problem with that?" Not a single soul uttered a sound. None, that is, except for the man in the dark coat and top hat, who snickered in a raspy voice. Evidently this was hilarious.

"Good. Now then..." The Buccaneer's captain scanned the stands for the next of his officers, before resting his gaze on the shirtless man with the clock tattoo. "Alright, yer up, Greave." A silence filled the room as each of the Buccaneers exchanged looks, followed by slowly escalating whispers. The tattooed man stood up,popped his neck, rolled his shoulders, then gave a polite bow to his captain. Unlike his crewmate, Greave did not give a flashy entrance as he descended the stairs into the main hall. He did not signal the mooks with a word or fingersnap as Launcher did. They simply knew what to do and went to work, cleaning up the dodgeball court and replacing it with a large matted ring, cordoned off by a series of ropes. It was a boxing ring.

Greave turned to everyone on the stands and addressed them, speaking barely a whisper, yet the intensity of his face seemed to imply that he was in fact yelling. _{"Who is brave enough to get in the ring with me for a boxing match? No blows below the belt, no points, victory on knockout!"}



Bonekid had already volunteered for the next bout, but before he could rise to the challenge Hachirou stood up. "Apologies, kid, but you're a swordsman. If we're going to box..." He dramatically tore off his coat, throwing it up into the air where it was quickly caught by Runch. "Then we need a strong fist fighter. Besides, we can't let you Red Rums have all the fun. I've got my own pride as a Krunch. Right, cap'n?"

Runch could only respond with happy blubbering tears and a thumbs up, which gave the Krunch Krew's navigator all the validation he needed to hop over the railing to land directly in the boxing ring.

---

---

Smith seemed to contemplate Dirk's words for a moment as he moved the bodies of the two unconscious guards. Their legs dragged comically along the stone ground as the ninja stashed them around the corner, just off to the side of one of the castle's towers. "Probably a bad idea. If these jokers find that we've killed some of them they'll blow apart the ships for sure. Then it won't matter how long it takes to log this island on the log pose, because we couldn't leave." Either he completely missed that it was a joke, or Dirk didn't sound like he was joking. Either way, the idea was shot down.

"Let's take a look in here," he suggested, gesturing to the wooden door leading inside the tower. He opened it slowly, cautiously, but one look inside revealed that the caution was unwarranted, for the room was empty. It appeared to be some manner of observation post. Inside was a telescope pointed toward the ocean, and a radio station setup with a large den den mushi. Several logbooks were stacked on a nearby bookshelf, while the back wall had been emblazoned with a large marine logo and the words G-12, both of which had black paint crossing them out.

"I guess they saw us coming long before we ever spotted this island," Smitth observed, noting the telescope's positioning.

---

Caesar opened his eyes, laying where he was. He could feel pain, and he knew it was serious. Not like last time against that Saban. He fixed the ceiling with a dull glare, listening to.... Slick. The maniacal pyro. Who... Won.

This was twice he'd been bested by another. Sure he made them regret it each time but....

Was it possible he wasn't strong enough? The damage to his arms and chest seemed like solid indicators that something was amiss. It just... It didn't make sense. He couldn't go 100%, for other's sake, and he didn't need to.... But then....

Why did he keep losing and getting injured? Yeah he healed fast and it really didn't hurt unbearably but...

What was going wrong?

He'd let the crew down. He'd, well, he'd let himself down.

He laid there, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, for an eternity. The next match was starting but, well, he just couldn't bring himself to care about it.

He had failed too many times in too short a period for these to be flukes. It just didn't make sense. He couldn't even score 2 points against Launcher.

Idly he wondered if he should find her and commend her for her victory but.... He couldn't bring himself to. Maybe it was poor form, and really she did cut a striking figure, but he couldn't bare the thought of admitting he was a failure.

A sigh escaped his lips as he closed his eyes. He should thank Liliana. This felt like her work.

But she shouldn't have needed to do this in the first place. He shouldn't be in this condition.

None of this was right.

For now.... For now he would listen to the fight.

Hachirou landed with an audible thud, then stood up from a crouched position to take a standard boxing stance. His opponent, Irons Greave, grinned and put up his own defense. The two were ready to begin duking it out, when the two pirate referees from before reappeared. Both had multiple amusing injuries, including black eyes, bloody noses, and bandaids slapped haphazardly all over their faces.

“The second contest is about to begin! In the red corner we have the Buccaneer Pirate’s top fighter! Hailing from Clock Town in the South Blue, the shirtless wonder, Irooooooons ‘Knockout’ Greeeeeeave!” The announcement was met with much applause, whistling, and cheering.

“In the blue corner,” began the second ref, “Some muscular guy nobody really cares about-” A loud, sassy “Blow it out your asshole!” could be heard coming from Trickshot Jo’. “-Navigator of the Krunch Pirates, it’s Hachirou H. Hachirou!” Just as Greave’s announcement was met with praise and adulation, Hachirou’s was met with boos and hisses.

“Last call for betting! Place your bets now, window is closing!”

“Peanuts! Popcorn! Don’t miss out on the fight because you had to get a snack in the middle of it!”

“Llllllllllet’s get ready to rumbllllllle!” Three clacks on the bell sounded off the first round.

Neither opponent wasted any time in jumping straight in for a brawl. The two fighters met at the center of the ring and let loose their fists of fury. The strength and speed of both men quickly proved intense. Their arms appeared to completely vanish into a blur, while the force of the blows blew Hachirou’s hair back by the sheer air force. Yet neither showed any signs of taking any hits yet. A keen eye could make out the individual movements, and would notice that not a single blow had been landed in several seconds of the fight so far. Every punch, every strike was countered, parried, dodged, or otherwise negated.

“Oh wow,” commented one of the Buccaneers. “I can’t even follow this! Did their arms just turn invisible?”

“No, Greave is just that fast,” said another. “But to see another boxer be able to match him blow for blow? It’s unreal.”

”Hachish ish-hic!-holding back,” slurred the drunken voice of Wutong Ken, eyes completely closed. He appeared to not be paying any sort of attention to the match at all.

”Omnomnom! He does like gauging his opponents! But really, to limit himself this much?” Runch stood up and cupped his hands over his mouth to cry out, ”Mr. Hachirou! It’s time to stop behaving like a kid playing with his spoon! We can’t waste any extra energy on this!”

“What? Pfft, quit kidding around,” waved off one of the pirates sitting nearby. “There’s no way he could be holding back. I mean look, he’s barely keeping up with our prize fighter! Yeah! Heheheh.”

Runch only gave the man a knowing smirk, taking his seat back. In the ring, the fight kept going with tremendous intensity. Each fighter glared knives at the other, looking for that one opening to take advantage. Without hesitation, Hachirou broke off from his opponent. ”Understood, cap’n.” He then addressed his opponent. ”I apologize if I have offended you by holding back. That won’t be a problem anymore.”

Greave kept his guard up. _{”No worries. I’ve been holding back too. Let’s see what you’ve got!”}

Hachirou grinned, a rare showing of emotion for the normally stoic man. ”Don’t feel too bad when you wind up on the floor… For that is where all go when they kneel before the king!” His final words were not so much shouted as roared, echoing with a beastly guttural tone. Hachirou’s muscles rippled, growing intensely in size, bulging! Golden fur grew from his skin, as his black hair changed color, looking more like a mane than before. His irises compressed vertically, like a cat’s, and claws grew from his hands. The man had completely transformed before everyone’s eyes, becoming a lion man.

Hachirou let loose another roar which shook the boxing area, and even the stands everyone sat upon. The pirates looked on in fear and awe. Many blinked and missed what came next, as the lion man shot forward like a bullet, his bulking clawed feet tearing up the mat behind him. His fist planted hard in Greave’s gut. _”UGH!” Greave shot back to the ropes, doubled over from the sudden blow. His saliva covered a good portion of Hachirou’s arm, and the floor as well, launched right from his mouth. But the other boxer didn’t throw in the towel yet. No, he was far from done.

Hachirou launched forward for another strike, aiming right for his opponent’s head. Just before making contact, the attack was caught by Greave’s left hand. _{”Heh. Strong.”} He squeezed, clenching down on Hachirou’s fist. The lion man grit his teeth in pain. _{”But not strong enough.”} Greave raised his head up, back into stance. His face was dominated by a wide grin as he lifted up his right fist. Then he slammed it hard into Hachirou’s gut.

”BUGH!” The air was knocked out of him, but Greave wasn’t done yet. He punched again, slamming his knuckles into the lion man’s face. Then again, in the chest, then the gut, the face, he kept slamming his fist hard into the Krunch pirate. Hachirou couldn’t back away with his hand gripped and pinned the way that it was, but retreat never crossed his mind. He had had enough. He raised his left arm through the assault, and thrust it forward with incredible force!

_”Slow!” Greave pulled back his fighting hand, and knocked aside Hachi’s attack with an open palm, never actually making contact with the lion man’s skin.

Hachirou was surprised, but only for a fraction of a second. His eyes narrowed in determination, and he opened his mouth to release a powerful roar! Greave grit his teeth to fight through it, but after five seconds he was forced to release Hachirou and cover his ears. The mighty roar had drawn blood.

_”Cheap,” he commented, reeling back and hearing only a ringing sensation.

”If it works, it works.”

_{”What did you sa-OOMPH!”} With feline reflexes and speed befitting the king of the jungle, Hachirou wasted no time in taking advantage of his opponent’s handicap. He powered through the pain of his own bruises to unleash a flurry of tremendous punches directly to Greave’s face, chest, and gut. Blows struck like machinegun fire, knocking the smaller man around like a rag doll. Up and down, left to right, back and forth.

Greave was a bloodied mess by the time he recovered enough to roll off the side and put up his fists again. He spat a large amount of blood over the side of the ring, then glared. _{”Now you’ve really pissed me off.”} Despite being several feet away, Greave threw a punch. No projectile was emitted, no contact had been made, but Hachi was knocked back all the same. This time it was Hachi’s turn to glare. He took a step forward to close the distance, but was thrown back by another long distance punch. Hachi grunted, then took another step. Again he was knocked back by some invisible force from Greave’s punch.

_{”Impressive, huh? My punches don’t lose any of their power over a minimum of eight meters. Those close up hits are my Second Hand punches. Now you’re experiencing my Minute Hand strike.”} He threw a double punch with both arms, the force of which bowled Hachi over. The Krunch pirate nearly tumbled out of the arena, saving himself by grabbing hold of the ropes and swinging back into place.

”Hrm. You fight by shaping the air with the force of your fists.” He held up his right hand, and clenched it. ”You aren’t the only one. But yours pales when compared to my mastery.”

_{”Then let’s put that to the test.”} The Buccaneer widened his stance, and swept his left hand forward in a circle, performing a form of kata.

”You are a gazelle.” Hachi widened his stance as well, planting both fists at his side. ”I am the king of beasts!”

Both thrust their fists forward at the same time, displaying different techniques. _{”Ultimate Minute Hand!”} ”Juuōken!”

Hachi roared loud as he unleashed his attack. Greave’s strike shot forward as a shapeless ball of air. Hachi’s vocalized roar sent ripples and vibrations through the air to match with his own fist strike. The two complimented one another, forming together seamlessly, creating an entirely new shape for the entire audience to witness.

_{”Is that a… Lion?! No! No!} NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The lion swallowed Greave’s own attack whole, blasting forward for its master. It struck Greave head on, maw gaping wide, and sent the man rocketing back. He snapped straight through the ropes around the boxing arena, right into the solid rock wall, and even straight through that!

The Buccaneer fighter fell hundreds of feet into the ocean. The entire pirate collective sat in utter shock, jaws literally on the floor. Several seconds passed by before the referees remembered to say something.

“Uh… Well, we can’t confirm that ‘Knockout’ Greave has lost consciousness, but…”

“Yeah, uh… I think that we can safely say that, uh…”

“The winner is Hachirou of the Krunch Pirates!”

Hachi grunted, spitting out a small amount of blood. ”Looks like I used too much power. I said he’d be kneeling on the floor.”

---

Caesar listened to the match, focusing on the combatants and ignoring the useless chatter around him. It all didn't matter.

The roars were, unfortunately, really annoying, leaving his ears ringing momentarily after each one. An annoyance, especially when the pirate talked quietly enough that, in the thick of the noise, it was somewhat difficult to hear him.

Shaking his head, Caesar listened to the senseless babble from the fight. It would've been better to watch it, arguably, but... He didn't feel like it.

No, not when he was so weak.

As the pirate flew out into the ocean, almost comically really, Caesar sat up slowly, climbing to his feet. Having to primarily use his feet and legs to get up was... Awkward. Difficult. He didn't like it.

The fire. From his position he could see her, and he moved himself slowly along the frimge of the arena, his eyes focused on that fire.

He walked slowly up the stands, a sharp pain stabbing with each step, before he stopped next to his destination.

"You're the first to ever truly best me." he said quietly to Launcher, his voice a little stained. "The situation may demand us enemies, but you are not my enemy."

Well, okay. No killing the boys then. Which was OBVIOUSLY what Dirk wanted to start that there in the place of men. So they lived, bitch. Whilst that happend, Smitch opened up the door, and it reveals a bunch of things, like stones, and bowls. Ding dong, Mariner logos. Dirk wasn't a stupid, I recognise them from when they fought the bad guys back on the island. The Island. Yuushuu Island, to be clear. He's gotta be clear on it.

You don't even know them Maniac! You can't just say you know what that means Psycho!

Sure, okay, but. Marine logos. Men who are coatmen. Chapter 1: What it means. Probably they became ex-Marines.

'Maybe they were ex-marines,' I utter, with not really scene the truth of that why there is marines being prats of the curry bean. They hook people now. No you're a hooker. Shut up.

You Figured It Out! Nicely Done!

I say shut up, this seems importent. Maybe. Dirk's thinking is interrupted by Some Guy screaming as he flies into space, or just the see, where there are see breezes to breeze through life like a breeze. Easy-breezy.

'We should take their stuff,' he concluded after watchingman the man goes to the drownland with that dunk tilt. 'They can't do this forever. If they try, and have their stuff be our stuff. They won't be able to protecc.' He paused just long enough to interrupts Smarch. Stupid Smarch calendars. 'But also attacc. People.' With his Brand New Hydraulically Operated Twin Brother, Coat, Dirk begins to begin to hide books and a telescope in his coat. He'll need them for the future year of later that very same year, on International Bring A Buttton of Bees to Work Day. There'll be bees, and he'll shoot them with a bee bee gun. Or create a beehive golem out of more bees. Perfect yes.

You utter fool.

---

In the brief time that Caeser was unconscious, Lilli worked on him. She was done before he awoke. He was likely only awake because of her ministrations...or well, that and his incredible tenacity. She watched the next match and was quite pleased that Slick had come out victorious, and really not terribly injured either. She took care of him, despite his complaints, and when she finished she turned her gaze to the arena. A boxing match it seemed. As the match progressed she found herself more and more impressed until finally Hachirou transformed. Her eyes shot wide and she covered her mouth, gaping. He was a devil fruit user, and a zoan at that! Then things got intense and she couldn't take her eyes off the two. Still, the Runch pirate managed to wrap things up quite satisfactorily. She smiled. The man seemed almost totally uninjured. She wondered if their “doctor” was really qualified to fix him up. She'd intervene if he wasn't.

She had half a mind to volunteer for the next round, but she wasn't so sure it was a good idea. Then again, they still had Feya.

Bonekid furiously jotted down notes as he watched the match, observing the strength of Hachirou as he was the holder of his specific Devil Fruit. The sheer strength of the punches that this lion man could throw were absolutely astounding, scarily so. He probably rivaled a fully-powered Caesar in strength, if he didn't completely overpower him in the end! Holy heck!

Lastly, the match ended with Hachirou coughing a bit of blood, but victorious, as his soft-speaking foe flew off into the drink outside of the keep. Was... was he going to be okay? He took a lot of damage, too much to be certainly swim with. Bonekid could only hope he was okay. The kid didn't want anyone dying from this mayhem. Still, a victory was a victory, and it should be cheered. "Oh yeah, mister Hachirou! Great job!"

Bonekid perked up, suddenly, as he talked to nobody. "Is it time?" Bonekid pulled his sword into his lap as a shine shone across it, cast onto the sword by the light in the room. "I guess it is."

Bonekid stood, holding his sword on his shoulder. "I'm ready to go! Let's keep this winning streak going!" He was clearly volunteering for this next round.

As the boxing match came to a close, Bill looked on in subtly surprise. It was clear that he was quite impressed. "If it comes down to my contest, I hope I get t'face 'im. That would be amazing." Of his officers, the man chomping down cigars in the orange tiger-striped coat was not so much impressed as he was furious, a scowl dominating his face. Muscles tensed and veins bulged at his visible displeasure.

"Captain..." he started, barely containing his anger. Bill cut the man off.

"Don' even ask. Go get'im." The man nodded, got up from his seat, then dove out the hole in the wall Greave had been sent flying through. If anybody paid attention, they would see him land in the water and begin swimming off in the direction his compatriot had been sent flying.

Spotting Bonekid so eager, Bill spoke up again. "Well, since me first mate is off gettin' our fighter back, an' yer so eager, why don' we move the schedule round a bit?" He glanced at the leather bound woman holding two swords and gestured with his head. Respectfully, she nodded and rose from her seat with grace and poise, slowly but methodically making her way from the stands to the center of the room.

As the woman approached, the gang of pirates quickly got to work tearing down the boxing arena. However unlike the other contests that had been setup, they did not replace it with anything else. The hall was left as it normally sat... Minus a cannonball shaped hole and a person shaped hole in the walls, of course. Regardless, she stood at the center of the room, hands on her hilts. She waited patiently and expectantly for Bonekid to take his place as her opposite, then drew two black blades: one long, and one short.

"Greetings, young one. I shall be your opponent today. The competition is simple: a duel. One point is awarded each time our blade makes contact. A victor is chosen at five points, or when one is unable to continue by means of unconsciousness or death, though it would seem blood loss shall not be a factor for you. Very well. Are you ready to face Kitana Blade?"



Back in the stands, Launcher turned to look at Caesar, eyes hidden behind her now cracked and broken sunglasses. The frames sat lopsided on her ears. Before responding, she blew a bubble of chewing gum large as her head, which summarily popped and covered her entire face. She made no indication to have even noticed. "I doubt you'd say that if you knew more about us."

---

---

"Ex-marines makes sense," Smith began, having completely ignored seeing someone fly out of the fortress toward the water. "Though I suppose they could just as easily have taken over this island from the marines."

He fiddled around with some of the logbooks and tools around as Dirk swiped a bunch of the objects for his own use. Why? One could say "only Dirk knows" but even that is very doubtful. Regardless, Smith was flipping through some pages in a rather bored looking manner when he spoke next. "It doesn't make a ton of sense, though. Whether they were marines stationed here or pirates that took it over, they should have at least one ship, right? So even if they did scuttle the Guppy and your crew's boat, in theory we could get away from this island... But where?"

Suddenly the door opened up, revealing a handful of goons on the other side. "Crap! Intruders!" one cried out. "Get them!" said another. Smith just sighed, dropping the book without ceremony, and charging into the doorway to do battle with them. Of course, that wasn't all, as Dirk's ears began to pick up a voice in the same room as them. "Marine base G-12, come in. This is captain Yoshi speaking."

It was coming from the den den mushi on the radio table. Somebody was signalling them! "Repeat, this is captain Yoshi. Come in, marine base G-12." Smith seemed to have those mooks handled, so maybe Dirk should answer? Of course, he could always help beat up some lowly pirates...

Bonekid stepped into the ring as he held his sword tightly in his hands, looking at the freakishly pale swordswoman in front of him with what could be conceived as a grin of excitement on his face. He was feeling a mixture of emotions right now, but mainly the likes of dread and enticement. It’d be a good match, but it had a lot riding on it. He’d best not disappoint his crew(s?).

”Uh… one question. What constitutes as a ‘hit’?” Bonekid wasn’t sure if a blade clash counted as a hit or if a vine punch counted as one, so he wanted to clear things up quickly.

In response, the pale swordsman lifted her right arm up in display, holding her black longsword in hand. With her left hand, gripping the short sword, she sliced quick and clean across her own forearm, drawing blood. The red liquid dripped three drops to the floor, but the rest was being absorbed by her clothing. A single bead of red ran down the edge of her blade. ”That is what constitutes as a hit. Blade to flesh. Though in your case, it is a bit different, but I imagine you get the idea. Now…” She shifted her position to take stance, holding both swords out in front of her. ”En garde!”

“En garde!” shouted the two referees, in unison.

As soon as Bonekid got an understanding and heard the word ‘now’, he shifted into a defensive stance of his own, taking one hand off his blade’s hilt as the blade became covered in a thick bark-like substance. ”Kojo-Kojo Cover! We’d better hope it helps.”

While Bonekid immediately began a defensive tactic, his opponent rushed forward in an offensive blitz. Her expression never changed, neutral and stroic, like a porcelain doll. It was unsettling and creepy, like a puppet woman were swinging two black swords at the skeleton kid. First the longsword swung horizontally to lock in with the Shroomblade, cutting into its protective wooden cover but not piercing it completely. Next Blade swung her short sword, just outside of reaching Bonekid. Then, in an instant, the tip of the sword seemed to grow longer! It reached forward, slicing into the skelekid’s clothes and nicking one of his ribs.

“Point for Blade!” cried one of the referees.

The short sword appeared to shrink back to its normal size before his very eyes, but on a second glance he could make out what was happening. Her sword hadn’t gotten longer at all. It was her blood. The precious red liquid of life had snaked along her sword and become like an extension of the blade itself!

”Oh, so that’s how we’re playing?” Bonekid tilted his head before a vine shot out from his plant skin, swiping underneath his foes feet. ”Good. We’ve been itching to go all out.” With a swift movement, Bonekid deflected the sword strike before he backpedaled a few steps. He shifted into a better position as his blade swung around him, the weight between the child and the sword acting in tandem with each other, giving them a fair bit of momentum. ”Kojo-Kojo Overgrowth!” The skeleton kid turned his momentum into an assault as he lunged at Kitana, his form carrying with it various streaks of newly formed foliage.

Blade’s response was as emotionless as ever. Her movements were calculated and graceful, with absolutely zero malice or enjoyment behind them. As the vine lashed out at her legs, she spun her longsword clockwise, sweeping downward and back up to its original position. As the sword spun in place, it left behind a trail of blood taking the form of a large circular shield. Not only did it serve to slice apart the vine snaking toward her, but it acted as a barrier between both combatants.

”Haemo haemo shield,” she uttered simply. ”Rain of daggers.” She followed up by slashing into the blood barrier with both swords in an X formation. This sent dozens, nearly a hundred droplets of blood, flying toward the skeleton in the shape of little razors and just as sharp.

”K-KOJO KOJO NOPE!” The plant skin and flying foliage around Bonekid’s body shifted into a wall of bark, blocking most of the incoming attacks (and causing Bonekid to halt in his tracks as he splat against the wall), but not all was saved. The hat normally worn by Bonekid was torn to shreds, carrying through the air like it was nothing but a shard of paper. Thankfully, the Shroomblade was there to keep Bonekid’s head safe where the wall couldn’t.

”O-oh…” Bonekid looked at his blade, and noted the… rather large amount of blood on it. The blood on it… somehow… made him feel more secure with the blade. He trusted it more. He felt his soul in it more.

A wicked grin appeared on Bonekid’s face as he called once again.

”Kojo-Kojo Weave.”

Whatever foliage was left around Bonekid coiled into a series of spider like legs, lifting the skelekid off the ground and carrying him around the arena quickly as he circled and weaved around Kitana, looking for an optimal spot to score a point without risking the threat of a foe earning a point.

At last, one opening was found, and Bonekid went for it, sending his blade around for a slash from the his right side (aiming for Kitana’s left), using another instance of his weight versus the swords weight for momentum.

Blade was not nearly as open as the younger swordsman believed. If he had thought that his new mobility had somehow disoriented her, the results of his attack would prove otherwise. She lifted up her shortsword to intercept his attack, then swung a quick counter maneuver with her longsword. The superior reach of her longer arms had proved vital in piercing his plant matter skin, spewing chlorophyll like blood.

“Second point, Blade!” cried a referee.

Blade twisted her sword, knocked the Shroomblade aside and retaking her stance. Whereas previously she had taken a very offensive style, now she had changed gears to be more on the defense. The older swordsman had to have something up her sleeve, but she had one major disadvantage in this battle. There was no way she could know of the Shroomblade’s secret strength, and her parry-lock maneuver had spilled more of her blood onto it.

”Heh. Fair game.” Bonekid smirked as he pulled his blade back and left his hand open. ”You’ve got a lot of tricks in your arsenal. We both have that in common.” Bonekid felt his blade speak to him even more than it had due to the additional blood on the blade. ”Looks like we’ve gotta find another route...”

Bonekid stood back in his own defensive stance as his free hand clenched the air, moss spreading along the ground where scraps of what was cut off of Bonekid’s plant skin. Bonekid couldn’t grow his plants unless he had one of two things; suitable growing terrain, or other plant matter to work off of. Moss was plant matter that could spread along stones, and it was plant matter affected by his Devil Fruit’s powers.

”How’re you holding up? I don’t want you to die from blood loss.” Bonekid was earnest. He wanted to talk to her after this was over in attempts to improve his own talents with a sword. Alas, that’d be for the future. Right now, he needed to buy some time.

”Concern for your enemy is a luxury for the citizens in their homes-” since the Bonekid had not pressed the offense, Blade was more than eager to take up that position herself, swinging both swords horizontally. They shot forth red projectiles, large scythe-like swathes of blood that would no doubt cause havoc if they connected. ”Not for soldiers on the battlefield!”

Bonekid hastily swung his sword as he leapt, dodging one of the blasts due to his small stature and newfound agility, with the swing causing the other blast to collide directly with the Shroomblade. The inpacrt caused the blade to pull Bonekid back a bit, but it coated the blade with a sticky and shiny crimson edge combined with the other blood soaked onto the blade. Bonekid gave a dark scowl as he commented again. ”How... honorable.”

The Shroomblade took on a wicked green glow as Bonekid stood there. The Red Rums would know this as an Honor Strike, but without it firing off, Bonekid was simply left cooking it as he returned to his defensive position. ”I gotta say, you are bleeding a fair bit. We don’t want our opponent dying in a battle this fun!” Bonekid giggled as his blade gleamed with the green energy imbuing it. Meanwhile, the moss growing around the shards of plant skin continued to spread, growing at a much faster rate as more moss could spread from each centimeter that covered the area.

”Honor has no place in war,” posited the macabre swordswoman, twirling her swords back into form. ”In battle, the very act of fighting makes both sides evil. The only true justice is to end the bloodshed as quickly as possible… To end ‘evil’ by any means necessary! Hato hato sheathe!” More of Blade’s blood seeped from her wound, covering both blades of her weapons. The blood condensed and hardened, focusing the iron content within the blood into a larger, sharper edge. The black swords were now crimson, but they were not the only thing to go through a transformation. No longer did Kitana Blade look lifeless, detached, and aloof, but fierce, determined, and frenzied.

”Heart Murmur!” she cried out, slashing both swords up from the ground. The floor split from the cut, which was quickly shooting toward Bonekid.

”Nice try.” Bonekid’s sword flashed back to its original color as the kid performed his patent-pending Sword-Jump technique, launching a good distance into the air above Kitana and staring down at her with a grin on his face. With his sword still drawn, Bonekid harnessed the power of his Devil Fruit as he used yet another one of his techniques. ”Kojo-Kojo Spring Apple!” The mossy ground under Kitana shook as a platform of plant matter rocketed out from under her, though, not launching her up. It instead swarmed around her body with an intent to trap her, contain her, keep her from moving so Bonekid could get a point.

Bonekid’s free hand unleashed the vine part of the Spring Apple move as he pulled himself towards the ground, landing back on it quickly and charging towards Kitana’s back, a hefty jab being sent her way from the Shroomblade. The skeleton was moving so fluidly with his blade at this point that it’d be comparable to rain along a leaf, dripping off at the end. Poetic, in a way.

Blade was taken by complete surprise at the sudden tree growing beneath her feet. The branches twisted out and around, the foliage grew all about her legs, completely destroying her footing. ”What is this?!” she cried, sweeping her blades in wide swathes, cutting a path for herself. Just as she was about to jump from the tree, Bonekid’s sword stabbed two inches deep into her back. ”Ugh!”

She tore herself away, seemingly tumbling down through the air, yet she landed on both feet, crouched, albeit with a wince. Curiously, the wound wasn’t bleeding at all despite no doubt having sliced an artery when she tore herself away. Her blood manipulating devil fruit definitely had bonus applications it seemed.

“Point for Bonekid!” A ref cried out. “The score stands at 2-1 in favor of Kitana Blade!”

Blade stood up, narrowing her steely gaze on her skeletal opponent. She wasted no words, slicing in a single quick and efficient motion along the trunk of the tree. Without a single cry of “timber!” the tree crashed down in Bonekid’s position, but that was not all. She measured her opponent’s reaction and moved in position to launch a blood wave at him just as he began to do something about the tree.

Bonekid rolled out of the way of the tree as he held his sword towards Kitana, a vine rocketing out of the fallen trunk in attempts to wrap around her ankle to try and trip her. While in the fluid move, Bonekid protected his body from an oncoming attack by pulling his sword in front of him. If a wave hit it, it’d just make him more powerful. Though, he’d still have to dodge, but any blood on the blade was still fortuitous. ”How’re you feeling now? I’d imagine not so good.”

The woman’s lips curled up in an insidious smile, slicing apart the oncoming vine with a flick of the wrist. She never even so much as glanced in its direction. ”I told you, inexperienced child. Concern for your enemy is not a luxury you can afford. All men on the battlefield are evil by nature!”

A portion of the blood scythe splattered onto the Shroomblade as its owner protected himself, but a larger portion splattered all around. Come to think of it, there was a lot of blood splattered around…

”You are not the only one who can manipulate a battlefield to your advantage! Hato hato Vein Burst!” she spun her swords together, hilt to hilt, then pierced the ground with both blades. All the blood spatter quivered and reacted in an instant. Completely surrounded on all sides, the puddles and spatter formed into dozens of spears and blades, centered right on Bonekid. No doubt he could block many, and dodge more, but it was impossible to avoid getting hit by all. No matter what actions he took, the skeleton swordsman found himself impaled by at least half a dozen blood-spears.

“Point for Blade! Multiple strikes simultaneously count as a single blow!”

Blade nodded toward her opponent. ”Had you a normal body, you’d no doubt be dead right now. Count yourself lucky.” And lucky he was, for the attack had an unintended side effect. The Shroomblade was now saturated with a source of precious life energy…

”... heh…” Bonekid’s tone completely shifted as he took his sword and spun, a slash completely ripping through every bloody spear that impaled him like it was no more than tissue paper. ”Saddle up, kid, because you’re in for a wild ride now. Kojo-Kojo Blades of Grass!”

The plants that coated Bonekid each split off into their own separate appendages, forming long blades of plant matter at each tip. They were, quite literally, blades of grass. As for what Bonekid did, the end of his personal sword extended far beyond what was normal for it, but it still seemed like a perfect weight for Bonekid.

”Think fast.”

Before Kitana knew it, Bonekid was right up beside her with both of his Blades of Grass swinging from the sides, his own sword aiming right for her torso with the skeleton’s face masked by a malicious grin. He knew the risk he was taking, but he was ready to bail if he had to, especially with the moss underfoot ready to make a wall of pure bark.

Blade reacted with surprise. Clearly she had not expected her opponent to receive such a tremendous boost in speed and power. Despite this she wasn’t one to give up any ground. Her left hand brought up the shortsword to block the Shroomblade. Her right hand partied one of the grass blades. She strained to force the weapons back. Of course, that left one attack she had no way of blocking, and paid the price. The grass blade on her left side sliced into her skin, drawing blood. Only after this strike did she put any distance between them.

“Point for Bonekid! The score is 3-2!”

Blade grit her teeth. ”Very well. In order to end this evil, I will need to use my greatest technique…” The woman closed her eyes, centering herself. She positioned her longsword directly in front of her face pointing toward the sky, while the shortsword remained at her side, pointed diagonally toward the ground. Then her eyes opened back, completely red. No iris, no pupil, only red. Then she began moving, the abandoned grave and poise suddenly having returned to her. The motions of her arms were fluid, like water, spinning around in a beautiful dance. All the blood that had littered the hall, soaked into clothes, and splattered around all returned to its owner swirling and rushing in a perfectly composed system of fluids. She was almost like a solar system, with many belts of orbits centered on her own mass.

”Let this be our final clash, young one.” She prepares herself for a charge, but the beautiful dance never ceased.

”If it is, we’ve had a fun time.” Despite the blood on Bonekid’s blade being absent now, he continued speaking with the darker tone of voice that he had when the blade was covered. With a planty mass forming underneath his feet, Bonekid prepared for the final clash, the Shroomblade glowing with the same green energy as before, the light near-blinding at this specific moment.

”Hato Hato Circulation… And!” Blade charged forward like a rocket, launched by a wave of blood pushing her from behind. ”Hato Hato Aortic Surgery!” She swung both blades forward together into a single point. The entire mass of blood moved in perfect synchronicity, coming to a single point and hardening around the two swords as a single massive sword of blood.

”Honor Strike!” Bonekid connected the Shroomblade to Kitana’s devastating attack and met it with a power unlike most. The Shroomblade’s glow extended through the sword and onto Bonekid’s figure as it clashed against the bloody attack, a bright light emitting from the contact made by the two blades.

The two blades clashed together in a single stroke, a brilliant light emanating throughout the hall and blinding most of the observers. By the time the blinded could see again, both combatants were standing on opposite sides, back facing back. Kitana Blade held both swords together, her enormous blood weapon still in perfect form. Then, slowly, the blood began to flow as a mass of tendrils back toward its owner. Blade collapsed to the ground, and though her blood flowed back home through her wounds the woman had clearly lost consciousness.

“Uh… Ok, wow. So the winner, by knockout, is Bonekid!”

Bonekid, standing right behind what was a KO’d Kitana, raised his arms in the air as he let out a loud ”Heck yeah! That was fun as crap!” Bonekid used a bit of the Kojo-Kojo-no-Mi to lift and carry Kitana back to the other stands, where he gently placed her down, doing a bit of a happy walk as he did so. ”Oh man, that was fun! She was so cool! What I’d give to be as good as her someday!” With a smile on his face, Bonekid picked up what was left of his hat at the moment as he carried it back to his own stands. ”What do you guys think? How was that ma-gheck!”

As soon as Bonekid stepped near the stands, his entire body collapsed onto the bottom stand, his head hitting the edge of the lower seats with an audible thud. Must’ve tuckered himself out, the poor scamp.

---

Caesar chuckled lightly at her reply, glancing through the stands. "What, that you're all Marines or Marine killers, eh?" he replied quietly. "Enemies only remain enemies as long as they allow it. Take care of yourself, Launcher, I'll want a proper rematch one day."

He waited for a moment, but when no reply was forthcoming he left the way he came, nodding to himself.

Moments later he was among his crew, though off to the side and slightly apart. The match with Bonekid and... Blade?... was beginning.

Which, as the match progressed, he realized that no one else on the Rims could've hoped to beat Blade. After Boney the next highest skill with a blade, as far as he could tell, was himself. And he most definitely couldn't have handled the skill Blade was displaying.

Another failure for him. Maybe the kid would be willing to train him some in the blade arts.

But for now he watched, analyzed really, Blade. Sure the fucking magic alien bullshit augmented the techniques, but Blade really was skilled. Maybe he could incorporate some of that into his own repitoire, using his electro instead of magic blood.

Wait, he wasn't a magic alien with his electro, was he? Could his dad have lied to him all these years? That was....a disturbing thought. But... There was no reason to believe his dad had lied, and he'd just need to push that thought away.

But, the match was over now. It had been interesting, and close. If the kid had collapsed and sooner...

He couldn't even help collect the kid, with his injuries.

He looked around, maybe he could get Dirk to...

Where was the little guy? He furrowed his brow, frowning. When was the last time he'd seen the weirdo? At the docks? Had he been captured or just slipped away?

His eyes roamed the room and he noticed that he didn't notice.... Smithy? Was that his name? Was he even real? Wait, yeah, he's taken out Slick.

Huh. Well, maybe he was just hiding in plain sight? He was a slippery little....guy? Thing?....person?

He hoped nothing bad was coming from this.

"Someone should get the kid," he said quietly to the two crews.

Matches went by as Cedric drank his fair share next to Runch's very own drunken doctor. The man seemed to have an endless supply of liquor on him. They took turns taking swigs from the bottle as they watched Slick defeat launcher, and the powerful lion man wreck his opponent through stone walls! "DID YOU SEE THAT HIT!?"

Finally it was time to watch his very own first mate take up his imaginary friend sword and fight the swordlady. "Give her a taste of what the Red Rum pirates can do!" He yelled out to Bonekid.

The match went on with much back and forth hits that kept Cedric on the edge of his seat. He even forget to drink for the duration of it he was so focused. Finally, "HONOR STRIKE!!" And the woman collapsed!

"YEAAAAAAAAAAAH! HE DID IT!"

Cedric scooped up his first mate from the lower stands and began tossing him into the air and catching him repeatedly, "Bawhahahaha! The boney skamp did it! He took it to that swordlady!" After a couple more seconds of jarring throws, Boone finally settled down and placed Bonekid on the seat next to him.

He did seem pretty tuckered out. Rest would be good for everyone after this day was done. Cedric could only wonder who would go next after that intense match. He eyed the remaining crew of their opponents. Who would it be next? And who would Cedric face?

'Maybe they're pretending to be submariners to get the profit of food and that things,' Dirk offered, still swiping things right up until the door re-opened and they hit the enemies with their full by which he meant the enemies yelled angry words at them and said "no, you're not allowed to be in here, you need to DIE". Then Squanch had a fight with them.

He was doing fine on his own. Yes, Dirk could answer the snail instead.

Pft. You moron. You'll expose the crew's presence here.

'Fine, I'll do that,' he said into the telesnail on the hand, formerly on the table, and had a head tilt that also he used a second hand with to cover the snail and stop noise getting it clogged with noise wreckage, which would be the wooooorst thing. 'Mosh pit mosh pit, this is a marine solidear speaking. What?' he asked, wanting to know what the married captain wanted.

---

On the edge of her seat throughout, Lilli felt equal parts proud of her son's combat prowess as she was scared for his wellbeing. She had several glasses of milk set up by the time he was walking to them. She rushed forwards, but he fell...and was then thrown about by Boone. It didn't take her long, but she pushed close and when Boone stopped, took her son in her arms, holding him tenderly and setting him down with the gentleness only a mother could muster. Gently she helped the unconscious Bonesword drink the milk, glass after glass. She—unfortunately--couldn't do much else except make him comfortable, but she certainly did her best, finding pillows—as she had somehow gotten the milk—and settling the bone boy in for a rest. She kept his head on her lap the whole time, kneeling close, and stroking his skull affectionately.

She hoped it would be her turn soon. She was getting tired of seeing members of her crew injured and she was absolutely itching to take it out on someone.

Runch cheered for Bonekid's victory while the rest of his crew showed their appreciation for the fight in their own way. The Buccaneer Pirates began to murmur whispers of genuine concern that they might actually end up completely failing at this competition. It was truly an outcome they hadn't even considered could happen! As the skeleton kid came back to the stands from his victory, one of the Buccaneer officers, the man in the creepy coat and top hat, stood up to attend to the fallen Kitana Blade. Once he reached her prone form, he tapped his cane on the ground three times, unlocking a hidden mechanism which revealed a very large syringe within. He stabbed the needle deep into Blade, depressing the top of the cane to force a liquid through her body. After a few moments the swordswoman began coughing and stood up on her own.

"I lost. You should not have revived me." Her statement was morose yet calm.

"And let you leave me alone with this crazy crowd? Please. You're the only one that I can stand here." His own words sounded very detached and clinical as he twisted his cane-syringe back into a regular looking cane. A moment of pause passed between the both of them as each regarded the other with a completely blank stare. The moment was broken when, out of nowhere, the two began to passionately kiss, groping at one another with an intense ferocity.

"They're at it again!" cried a pirate.

"The legendary love between Blade and Maul!"

"My heart melts every time I see it!"

After nearly a full minute of furious, passionate makeout, the two abruptly broke apart as sudden as they had begun. Once they straightened their clothes, nobody could have been able to tell they even remotely cared for any human life, much less were so madly in love together.

"I shall take my seat," Blade commented, walking up the spiral stairs.

"As I accept the opposition's new challenger." The man named Maul straightened his top hat and gestured for a group of pirate mooks to begin the setup for his own contest.

"Boomoomoomoom!" bellowed Bill. "Looks like you've already decided for yourself who is going to participate next, eh? Go on ahead, Dr. Maul!"

The doctor smiled and tilted his head up just enough for the light to shine on his sunglasses, giving him a sinister visage. "My contest will be rope climbing!" he declared just as two ropes unfurled from the ceiling, no more than five feet from one another. "The first to reach the top and touch the ceiling wins. If you give up, or go unconscious, then you lose by default."

"Why would going unconscious be a problem?" Runch called out, squinting his eyes.

"Interference by the opponent is allowed." The man threw out his arms dramatically like a showman. "So who will take up the challenge of Dr. Maul?"



Several loud thuds, clunks, and crashes could be heard as one of the Krunch pirates suddenly fell over and tumbled down the stands, and then down the stairs. Wutong Ken came to a rather loud and abrupt stop right in front of Maul with an audible SMACK that echoed across the hall. "Ish-hic!-acshept yer chall-hic!-enge!" He stood up with some difficulty, swaying back and forth and trembling all over. His eyes had glossed over. Nearly every pirate in the room laughed hysterically at the antics of the drunk man.

---

---

"Uh...." There was a noticeable pause on the other end of the communication snail as the captain clearly wasn't sure how to respond. "Are you ok, soldier? You sound like you might have had a concussion. What's your name and rank?"

"OH GOD MY EYES!" screamed a pirate from just behind the door. Judging from the sounds, Smith was getting very creative in how he was beating them up.

"What was that?! Soldier, answer me!"

You're ruining everything, Dirk. You're going to mess everything up for everyone.

'Nuh uh, I'm good,' he said into the telesnail againaginagain. 'I am playing pirates. Sorry, we are playing with pirates. We're pirates. Oh no, swords and guns. We're bleeding. We are dead. Don't call again.'

And then he chucked that silly old telesnail out the window, and slightly off the wall. Then he jabs some guy in the stomach who is trying to fight him with my hand knife the knifing knife got there to hand it to you, you did an amazing job, Dirk.

Couldn't Have Handled It Better Myself!

You messed up Moron! Now we're going to die Retard! I hope you're happy Failure!

'Sorry, Smash. I panicked,' Dirk yelled at Smosh as he did more weeaboo combat fightan. 'There might be angry swordpeople going to kill ussssss, nherhggeoifk.' It looked like Slush was doing just fine, though.

Two men stood at the center of the hall, ready for the competition to begin. The officer of the Buccaneers, Dr. Maul, took hold of the rope with one hand, keeping his cane in the other. By direct contrast, the doctor of the Krunch Krew fumbled around with his rope for a good ten seconds before he got a hold of it. The laughter continued.

“Place your bets! Who will reach the ceiling first? Place your bets!” cried the gambling pirate.

“Ah, there’s no way this is even fair,” complained another pirate. “There’s no fun in betting in this contest. We all know what’s going to happen.”

Runch merely smiled in the face of such mockery. When directly addressed by Feya, he turned to address her back, any sign of worry completely missing from his expression and voice. ”My doctor is always inebriated! Omnomnomnom! It wasn’t just for the party we had earlier, miss Nelson. Wutong Ken has never once been sober in the time that I’ve known him, but he’s still never once let this crew down. Omnomnomnom!”

He turned his attention back to the floor below them. ”Many have underestimated him as some lowly vagabond, unfit and irresponsible, incapable of doing anything. What they do not realize, what it took me time to realize, is that while he may be drunk he possesses a clarity of mind unmatched. Instincts that never fail. He is drunk because one must be in order to be a master of the drunken fist!”

“Begin!” shouted both the referees in time with one another.

Maul put himself into an early lead, wasting no time in pulling himself directly up the rope one hand after the other. His climbing speed certainly was impressive, but it was clear he lacked the physical prowess of the Red Rums’ and Krunches’ real powerhouses, like Caesar, Feya, and Hachirou. If any of them had been facing down Maul instead, it likely wouldn’t even be a competition.

Still as it was, Maul was making great time, climbing the rope with his cane held between his teeth and his top hat remaining balanced on his head. He took a second to glance down at his competition, only to find that Ken had somehow gotten himself tangled up in the rope! Such a humorous sight it was to behold, as his right leg had somehow been tied up past his ear, his arms had crisscrossed along his back, and his left leg just kind of dangled in place.

“Hahahahahahaha!” laughed a Buccaneer, pointing directly at captain Runch. “And you were trying to put the fear of God into us over your crew mate! Hahahaha!”

”Disappointing that they wanted to waste my time with such a joke,” Maul sighed, giving pause in his climb. ”Still, one must not look a gift horse in the mouth. An easy victory for my crew.”

”Quit bein’ a dumbass honky an’ take it seriously, dammit!” Jo called out, firing a shot into the air to vent her frustration.

Hachirou’s ears twitched. ”He is about to make his move,” the man stated rather simply.

That’s when Ken began to swing in place, ever so slightly at first, but quickly gaining speed and momentum. Like a pendulum he moved back and forth. Then he spun around, unraveling from his rope-prison like the world’s most complicated yoyo! Faster and faster he spun, still swinging! The new torque had him swinging around in a circle as he unraveled.

”What is this?” Maul observed, intrigued by his opponent’s antics. Once he saw Ken’s rope spinning around him in circles, he received a sudden click of realization and began booking it up his rope again. More and more Ken’s rope wound around him, tightening, until he could escape it no more. The rope constricted around the doctor, preventing him from moving too much. In the same motion, the tip of Ken’s rope snapped upward. Having totally unraveled, he rose up through the air freely, almost making up all of the distance he had lost at the start!

Runch gestured toward the pirate taking bets. ”5,000 bellis on my mate, please! Omnomnom!” The pirate shrunk away, muttering about how betting was closed.

Meanwhile, Ken was in the process of climbing up the rope and had reached where he had ensnared his opponent. ”Shcuse me, hic! Coming frew.” he added politely, tugging himself up on Maul’s ankle, and stepping on his face heading upward.

“I don’t believe it!” cried one of the pirates. “He made it look so easy!”

“I don’t think he’s even aware of what he’s doing!” exclaimed another.

To his credit, Wutong Ken whistled merrily to himself as he leisurely climbed up, not a care (or sense of urgency) in the world. Behind his dark, round sunglasses, Maul narrowed his eyes in complete disdain for the drunken doctor that had just gotten such a tremendous advantage over him. ”Not today, ol’ chap,” he muttered through the cane between his teeth. The ensnared man jerked his head back, knocking his top hat off. Before it flopped down to the ground below, he managed to snatch it between two fingers on his left hand. With a little jerking and prodding, a small syringe fell out of the hat and into his palm.

Licking his lips in anticipation, joyful that he now had what he wanted, Maul dropped the hat and repositioned the syringe between his fingers. Without any ceremony, he jabbed it into his side and pressed the plunger down hard.

“He’s doing it!” gasped a pirate, fearful.

“Dr. Maul is actually bringing out him!” another cried, both astonished and terrified.

”... So hot.” muttered Kitana Blade under her breath.

Among the tangled ropes Dr. Maul began to convulse violently, grunting and groaning pained gasps. His glasses fell to the floor, shattering on the stone. His muscles tensed and his joints spasmed out of control. Before their very eyes Maul expanded into a much larger person, muscles rippling, but in a rather distorted way. His limbs elongated as they bulked, giving him a wiry, spider sort of look as much of his hair fell out. If it had not been for his clothes (which now barely fit) he would not have been recognizable as the same person.

“It’s him!” Most of the pirates cowered in fear, taking shelter beneath their seats. “Run! Hide! Fear for your lives! It’s Mr. Sledge!”



The rope snapped against the flexing, expanded muscles of Mr. Sledge in no less than four different sections. ”RAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!” In a single bound Mr. Sledge threw himself up to the same height as Ken. As easily as one steps on a bug, Mr. Sledge reached across the ropes and snagged Ken by the collar.

”YOU FALL DOWN NOW!” he screamed, then chucked Ken down at the floor. No sooner had the drunken doctor left his hand did he begin climbing upward again, now much much faster than prior to his transformation.

Ken fell down, down, down further. He had past the end of his broken rope before he was able to react and grab hold of it. ”Welp.” He said in a sort of verbal shrug. The drunkard reached out with his toes, taking hold of Maul/Sledge’s own rope using nothing more than his feet! Head first he swung down like a pendulum, releasing his toe-grip at the height of his arc in order to grab hold of the rope with his hands. ”Yoush-hic!-getsh down heresh!”

The drunk man began to tug the rope back and forth, sending whipping motions up along the thing. The first few didn’t even register on Mr. Sledge’s radar, but after a few seconds he noticed what was going on. Pausing his ascent for a second, the deformed mutant gazed back down at Ken, completely unimpressed and undisturbed by the drunken boxer’s attempts to shake him off.

”YOU SUPPOSED TO BE ON GROUND NOW!” He fought back against Ken’s shaking by flinging the rope around himself, with brutish strength violently outpacing his opponent’s. Ken was being flung around like a flea on a yoyo for as much control as he had over the situation!

”Whysh the room shpinning more’n normal?” the drunken doctor asked in a daze as his body flopped limply around in every direction. SLAM! He collided with a wall! SLAM! SLAM! The brutish Mr. Sledge wasn’t giving Ken an inch to spare nor a second of respite! Despite it all, Ken never registered any pain even as he began bleeding out his mouth.

”WHY YOU NO LET GO?!” Sledge redoubled his efforts, putting more and more force into the swinging, bashing Ken into wall after wall! The pirates were still cowering beneath their seats, though some of the more brave ones took notice of the brutal display going on in front of them.

On and on it went. The good doctor was bleeding profusely and had lost so much blood he was unrecognizable. Still, his fortitude held steadfast. Not once did he let go with so much as a single finger. It seemed it would go on forever, but someone had to give, and finally someone did. Mr. Sledge slowed down and mostly went limp, breathing heavily, his stamina having taken a heavy toll. Once more he mustered the force of his great strength for one final swing! That’s when Ken opened his eyes and seized his opportunity. As he was flung once again, Ken tugged hard on the rope with the force of Sledge’s swing, redirecting his force. The Krunch pirate was sent rocketing upward high, closing the distance! Up, up, up he went! Ken flew past Mr. Sledge and at the apex of this jump he grabbed onto the rope once again!

Now ten feet above Mr. Sledge, and only five feet from the ceiling, Ken was all but assured his victory. He reached up with one hand, ready to pull himself to even greater heights! ”NO BEAT MR. SLEDGE!” The mutant man tugged hard, throwing himself up high with his vastly greater strength, and closed his muscular fingers around Ken’s calves. He clenched hard… But so did Ken.

Phwoot.

Sniff sniff. Mr. Sledge’s face turned green in disgust after experiencing the most rank, awful, gut wrenching fart he had ever had the displeasure of smelling. Quickly he moved to cover his face with both hands… And promptly fell. THUD! Crack! The stone floor split where Mr. Sledge collided with it, knocked unconscious from the fatigue and the concussion. Before everyone’s eyes the man’s body shrank back into the form of Dr. Maul.

”You got dis, honky!” cheered Jo.

”Just a little farther, Ken!” chimed in Runch.

Whether or not the doctor had even heard them was up for debate, as he did not seem to acknowledge the cheers of his crew. Slowly, painfully, he reached up with one hand and pulled up a little farther. With increasing difficulty he reached up with his opposite hand. Now he was right on the cusp of victory. All that remained was to touch the ceiling. Just reach out… And touch it!

The last of Dr. Wutong Ken’s endurance and stamina left him in that moment. Everything went black, and he fell…

”Bori bori jelly platter!” Cap’n Runch leapt from his seat with outstretched hands. Large, soft and porous cereal shot forth from his body and onto the ground beneath the falling doctor. He landed on the top with a soft thwoomp, sinking a good four feet down before rising back up to the top.

“Both contestants are unable to continue!” announced one of the referees.

“This match is declared a draw, with both sides losing their athlete!” added on the other.

"Woah! Soo close to victory..alas not enough. However, he put up a great fight and denied his opponent the win. There is no shame in that." Boone turned to Runch with a look of proud resignation. He crossed his arms and looked over the battlegrounds, "There is no doubt in my mind that we have what it takes to win. Let's stand fast, crews joined in unity against our common foe!" He stuck out his hand for a firm shake with the cereal captain.

Afterward he couldn't help but wonder what his helmsman as well as Runchs's ninja pirate were doing. Hopefully finding a way to get them out of their predicament. Even if they won there was no guarantee these pirates would let them go. They had all the leverage while the Red Rums had none.

Boone took another long swig of his drink. It would be his turn soon. He could feel it. Cedric eyed his custom blunderbuss and whispered, "Soon friend, soon."