"...HOW?!"
In anguish, the Celestial Dragon, Saint Zygmunt, cried. He thrashed his arms in a way that harmed the women slaves around him, but he of course didn't care.
As if having lost he senses, he roared and stomped his feet.
Within the silent colosseum, his cries echoed throughout.
"THIS IS A FRAUD!!"
To him, Masasuri was a game character, one whom he invested quite a lot on. Yet, for him to face an end like this... at this moment, Zygmunt felt as if he lost the world.
And he needed to direct his rage at someone.
"...Yes, that must be it!"
Turning, Zygmunt directed his eyes at Vallerina.
"You broke the rules, didn't you? You gave that puny slave of yours that serum, right?!"
"Have you gone insane?"
"SHUT UP!!"
Zygmunt jabbed his finger at Vallerina, red-faced.
"The rules here are sacred!! Even if you are a member of the Topman family, the rules transcend your authority!!"
"As I said—"
Vallerina attempted to speak back, only to be cut off by Zygmunt's continued rant,
"Your slave was at the Doriki of 3!! A fucking 3!! He shouldn't be able to move like that!!"
"...Huu, as I said, I haven't broken any rule."
Vallerina took in a deep breath and responded as calmly as she could, but her words didn't reach Zygmunt's ears.
Standing up, she walked up to the obese man daringly. No one, not even the Celestial Dragons themselves, dared to speak in this situation, feeling the wrath that was piled up within Vallerina.
With her chin up and her eyes looking down on the Celestial Dragon with blatant disgust in her eyes, Vallerina spoke,
"But let's say that you're true, that I indeed cheat and strengthened my slave."
She narrowed her eyes, and her gaze seemed so sharp and cold that it felt as if it was capable of cutting.
"What then? What will you do about it, Donquixote Zygmunt?"
"Y-You—!!"
"The answer is quite simple, don't you think?"
Leaning down, she growled into his left ear,
"Nothing. There is absolutely nothing that you can do. You may be a god to those puny bugs down in the pit, but to me, you are nothing but a fat degenerate whose entire self speaks of uselessness."
It was a blatant delivery of contempt. The world of Celestial Dragons too wasn't as simple as it looked.
However, none of the feuds that were ongoing among them was Darvy's business.
He looked up to the sky, gazing at the blue palette filled with many white clouds.
The scene looked so peaceful. It invoked the sense of freedom. Yet, when Darvy reached his hand out to it, he couldn't grasp it. It was right in front of him, yet it wasn't.
"C-Cough..."
Masasuri seemed to have regained his consciousness. Coughing, his body twitched. Parting his eyes from the sky, Darvy looked at the fallen man with white wings that were stained in blood.
By now, the sand should've swallowed them in. However, they still remained on the platform, probably due to everyone's attention being locked onto the verbal fight that was ongoing between Topman Vallerina and Donquixote Zygmunt.
"...Hah,"
Some light entered Masasuri's dull eyes. He made a weak smile upon realizing his current state, realizing that he had lost. He then coughed some more, spitting blood uncontrollably.
"I... lost, huh..."
There was silence. The noise that was ongoing above was filtered out of Darvy's ears. Staring at Masasuri in despair, he couldn't help but ask,
"...Hey."
Masasuri, surprised that Darvy spoke to him, shifted his gaze up to the red-haired boy.
"Are you proud?"
"...What do you mean by that?"
"As in, are you proud of your status as..."
Darvy recalled the words spoken by Scorpion,
"...an entertainer?"
Masasuri snorted,
"...Perhaps."
"Why?"
Masasuri's face fell sullen.
"Because there is no other way for me to hope."
He smiled, though his smile trembled.
"Once these explosive collars make their way on us, it is impossible for us to get out of here. The only future that awaited me, up until now, was to fight and fight again for nothing but the entertainment of my master until my fall."
Darvy's eyes narrowed. From Masasuri's eyes, the tears dropped,
"Of course I remember... the time when I was able to fly freely, when I was bound to no one but myself... but now, in order for me to live on within this hellish life, I have no other choice but to deceive myself."
Darvy now understood. The so-called pride of these self-proclaimed entertainers was nothing more than a delusion meant to mask their despair.
"But alas... my time has come, it seems."
Masasuri looked up to the sky.
"...Darvy, was it?"
"...Yeah."
"You won't make it."
"Pardon?"
"I see it in your eyes. You hold a resolve... that pitiful resolve to break free out of this cage. But guess what?"
Masasuri's coughing worsened. His eyes began to lose the little bit of light they had—it was obvious that as the blood continued to drain out of his body, he was about to die.
"You... you will never break free. You will suffer the same fate as me... eventually forced to give up on the idea of freedom and immerse yourself in delusion, fight over and over until one day... you lose."
Darvy felt that Masasuri was whispering to himself rather than to Darvy. Masasuri was telling him that he had no choice. In a way, he was cursing Darvy at the end of his life, to put his life at ease.
"...Perhaps."
Masasuri's face loosened. His neck tilted, and his hands fell. Life no longer existed in the hollow shell of a body. Then Darvy muttered,
"But I won't give up. Be it by death or by breaking free... I will seize my freedom."
Lowering his body, he closed the deceased body of Masasuri's open eyes,
"...Rest in peace."
The sand below then began to swirl, which signalled that the third round of the tournament had come to an end.
__________
That night, through the dim hall, Vallerina was found walking with guards by her side. With high heels and a luxurious dress, she wasn't someone who was preparing to go to a sleep.
Eventually, she stopped in front of a huge door. Raising her small hand, she knocked on it twice. After a while, a grumpy voice was heard.
"...Come in."
The guards opened the door for her, and she walked into the huge room beyond.
Upon entry, the door closed shut, and there was no one but Vallerina and another person, an elderly man who was seated on a comfy-looking couch.
Vallerina bowed and raised the skirts of her dress, saluting,
"Topman Vallerina greets the great Elder and the family head."
"...Vallerina."
This man was none other than one of the Five Elders, Topman Warcury himself.
"For what reason has the youngest child of the family come to see me?"
Warcury pointed the couch in front of him and Vallerina complied, sitting down atop.
"I received the information approximately a month ago about what is wagered as the winning prize of the slave tournament."
"...Did you?"
Warcury paused. Leaning back, he raised an eyebrow,
"And so?"
"Clearly, you were expecting to see me."
Vallerina leaned forward with confidence.
"Come to think of it, there were many things about this season's tournament that were different from any other. First of all, I was given a letter of invitation to participate without putting myself on a waiting list. Second of all, there was at least one participant from the esteemed five families in Mary Geoise, including me."
"..."
"The great Five Elders were encouraging a competition among us. Am I correct?"
"...Not bad, Vallerina. You have grown."
Warcury then asked,
"However, none of us is in particular yearning for a victory. I suppose that... it is a form of test."
"A test, you say."
"One meant to discern the useful ones from a flock and nothing more. And to answer your question... no, I wasn't expecting you."
Vallerina flinched at that as if not having expected such a response.
"I wasn't expecting you for two reasons precisely. One, the rumor of you having chosen the weakest slave among all has spread far and wide. Two, you didn't seem interested in winning the tournament... until now, that is."
Warcury's eyes turned sharp as he looked at Vallerina astutely.
"Therefore, your visit suggests two conclusions. One, the supposedly weakest slave revealed his potential to become strong, strong enough to win all the other competitors. Two, you began to desire the winning prize."
"...Yes, you are correct."
"Then, you must be here for an approval."
Vallerina's eyes trembled. She wondered how Warcury managed to read her mind so thoroughly.
"To be more specific... to ask for permission to invest resources in that slave, such as a devil fruit or a power-empowering medicine."
Warcury didn't even bother to wait for Vallerina's confirmation, knowing that this was exactly what she was about to ask.
"Trying to follow the footsteps of that kid, Dominius, I see. Hmm..."
Warcury then lowered the tone of his voice,
"...A foolish decision, I'd comment."
"H-How come...?"
"Devil fruits, to us, aren't valued because of their costs but because of their rarity. Furthermore, they exist as the greatest variable that may disrupt our control over the slaves... it is a double-edged sword with the blade pointing us longer than the one pointing away from us. On the other hand... that serum is known to have numerous side effects, and the greatest among them is the mental derangement of the one who administered it."
Vallerina, recovering from the shock of getting her mind read, pursed her lips in thought.
"Then..."
"Yes, think, my dear Vallerina."
Warcury whispered,
"We are Celestial Dragons, the hegemons of the world. There exist many forms of power in this world, and we possess all of them. Funnily enough, these powers of ours not only work on those replaceable human beings, but also on our kind... and you have already used this idea many times in your favor."
Vallerina's eyes widened, knowing what Warcury was trying to convey.
...
After Vallerina left the room, Warcury lifted a cup of tea and sipped on it.
"Hm..."
He mumbled,
"Darvy, was it?"
It seemed that he had taken an interest in a certain red-haired boy.
__________
"...A week after, huh."
Looking at the screen above him, Darvy commented.
"The fourth round..."
"Something seems different, however."
By his side, the middle-aged former pirate, Haddock, pointed it out.
"There is no match-up being announced. Considering how early the past match-ups were announced prior to the start of battles, this is unusual."
"Well, well, Darvy, what a surprise to see you still alive?"
A bickering voice was heard from their back. Darvy turned and saw Scorpion smirking at them; he felt a deja vu.
"Scorpion."
"You know, too bad."
Scorpion then frowned with genuine disappointment.
"I wanted to see you dying pitifully, ripped to shreds, you know? It's always the likable ones like you who react the finest when twitching in pain. Oh well."
Shrugging, he walked over and stared at the screen.
"And to resolve your curiosity... the fourth round won't be a one-versus-one match-up. Instead,"
He then smiled devilishly,
"It will be a round of elimination, pitting all 125 of us together, until only 16 are left."
Darvy frowned.
"...Something doesn't make sense."
"Oh? Is my explanation inadequate from your perspective?"
"No, not that."
"What then?"
"More than 700 participants survived and were brought from last to this season's tournament. Yet, the mortality rate and severity of this tournament's rounds are excruciatingly high. Even if I am to account for the losers who managed to survive the fights and punishments, their number right now is very low."
"...! Come to think of it..."
Haddock whispered, having realized what Darvy was speaking of.
"This means that the format of the tournament changed. Yet, you leak the information about the future rounds as if you know what will happen."
Darvy's red eyes narrowed and gleamed within the darkness,
"Who exactly are you—"
Darvy couldn't finish his words. At the next moment, there was someone behind him with a hostile intent, placing his hand on Darvy's shoulder.
"Let's keep it there, shall we?"
Brody. It was that man of the 3rd rank.
"You..."
Haddock especially seemed shocked, as if he wasn't able to notice Brody's approach.
'...This guy is fast.'
Darvy grimaced, feeling the formidable strength on his shoulder.
"Heh,"
Meanwhile, Scorpion grinned darkly.