Chapter 26: Let The Grown Men Speak

If the stairs were made of wood, the steps would have creaked under my weight.

Such random thoughts. Killer scratched his forehead but only managed to rub the surface of his striped mask as he walked up the stairs to Kid's room.

The two-story abandoned building where their entire pack crammed themselves into was no luxurious hotel but it would serve. Heat and Wire managed to get water and electricity running, which was honestly all they needed. Well, that and an internet connection and cable TV but they could do away with such luxuries given their current situation, Killer thought.

Kid's room was almost pitch black if not for the soft moonlight that slanted between the gaps of the broken blinds that had been pulled down. But Killer didn't need light to see how the space was littered like a labyrinth of trash. Killer had been with this pack since the day he was born but he still couldn't figure out how Kid managed to clutter his room like he'd been imprisoned in it for decades despite being in it for twenty-four hours or less.

There was a dented rusty pail that was now an overflowing trash can beside what was supposed to be a small, cushioned chair. It was almost unnoticeable thanks to the pile of clothes that had been haphazardly thrown on it. Next to the laundry-infested chair was a small wooden table cluttered with boxes, wires, and more clothes. There was a jacket and a pair of denim pants on the lamp. Killer was willing to bet there was underwear there, too. Boxes and plastic bags with morsels or half-eaten food were everywhere. On the floor were screws, metal scraps screwdrivers, hammers, broken saw blades, broken bottles, empty bottles, inscribed objects, and whatnot lying around like a trail of Kid's work. What Killer's eyes followed, however, were the droplets of blood and glowing green liquid leading to the bed where the injured red-haired leader of their pack lay wheezing.

At that point, the cluttered room with its faded walls and broken ceiling no longer mattered.

My lord is stubborn.

"My lord…" Killer began.

Kid's yellow eyes flicked up angrily. A growl rumbled loud enough from between his teeth to make the blonde man shake his head and correct himself.

"Kid."

His red lord said nothing before turning back to his task at hand.

Had the circumstances been different, Killer knew that Kid would have chosen to reprimand him with fangs bare and claws out. Such was his annoyance at being called "lord" despite assuming his position as head of the Eustass clan… or what remained of it. The fact that Kid did not even utter a word only proved how strenuous his current activity was and how little strength he had left.

Metal bolts, wires, and rods protruded from his left arm—his bad arm, the arm he refused to accept he had lost—on which he been forcefully installing braces amidst a ribbon of his own blood. He was grunting and gritting his teeth, glaring at the large metal arm at the end of his self-installed mechanism. The giant square fingers were silent for a moment until its index finger started creaking and curling albeit rather erratically.

"F-fuck..." Kid huffed with a big, irritated exhale as his head dropped on the blood-stained mattress. The bed's one shaky leg made a small wooden whimper. The large finger fell with one last grating metallic whimper.

"We need to get that taken care of." Killer nodded at the limp arm without moving from the doorway.

"The hell do you think this contraption is for?!" Kid snarled, more impatient than angry as he grit his teeth again. He grunted, wiping the beads of sweat on his forehead and neck. Putting on this brace was more difficult and painful than Kid could properly fathom. The fact that had not regained the use of his arm despite his insane healing abilities as a werewolf was insulting. His arm wasn't even "broken". It was just "cursed to not function". And the body could not heal what wasn't injured.

But it wasn't his body that this silence curse was taking a stab at. It was his pride as an alpha wolf. He would be an idiot not to know that this was both a mockery and a warning.

Never fuck around with warlocks. Never.

Perhaps the silencer was thinking that his own pack would tear him apart and choose a new leader among themselves, someone who would know better than to pick a fight with mana-weilding humans. But this pack was unlike others. His wolves were very loyal to him. This was despite the fact that a pack with an eternally injured alpha wolf would be the laughing stock of the entire world.

"I'm going to kill him." Kid growled angrily, trying to form a fist with his limp hand and failing. "I'm not giving up on that Trafalgar."

"Of course, we aren't." Killer shrugged as a matter of factly. "We've sacrificed too much to give up now."

"On the contrary, you've sacrificed enough for that particular prey." Said a cold, deep voice from behind Killer. "If 'sacrifice' is what you want to call biting off more than you can chew."

A tall man donning a long dark blue coat and a ruffle-neckline shirt underneath stepped into the room. His long, pale face with apathetic eyes was framed with golden locks of wavy hair parted in the middle and fell down to his waist. He wore a belt of pink cloth and yellow beads and a pair of deep purple pants. The sound of his boots was nothing but soft clacks against the floor. A buckle of a leather belt that fell from the doorknob where it was hanging made a louder noise. Killer sighed. He should get around to tidying up as the cousins exchanged… pleasantries.

"Scarecrow." Kid greeted.

"You do know my name is Basil Hawkins. Choose one or the other." Said the man without a change in tone as he walked towards the only chair in the room. Killer made a small surprised sound before closing the door and hurrying to remove the mountain of clothes to reveal the old black chair with the faux leather peeling and flaking like dry, blistered skin.

"Scarecrow." Kid insisted.

"Red dog." Hawkins patted the seat, not amused by the cloud of dust that made him crinkle his nose.

Red Wolf. Killer wanted to correct him but thought better of it.

"What do you want?"

"To help you." The Scarecrow replied, turning to the red-haired wolf on the red-stained bed.

"I don't need your help." Kid glared. Hawkins' reply was to raise his hand and point a long, bony finger at the injured arm.

"That looks horrendous."

"Get out!" Kid sat up, stumbling forward after forgetting about his large metal arm. Killer gasped in surprise, dropping the heap of clothes on the table. A number of objects fell on the floor, clattering and thudding like an interlude to an argument. Basil Hawkins didn't even budge.

"Sit."

The word had barely left the Scarecrow's lips when brown stems and dry vines quickly shot out from the wall cracks to coil around Kid's limbs and forcefully pull him down on the bed. The alpha wolf roared and cursed and thrashed, tearing at the sheets and kicking against the floor in protest. He was rowdy enough to make the bed hit the wall and crack into the plaster but it was not enough to free him from the constriction.

He had not recovered from the encounter at Punk Hazard. He's still weak. Weaker. Significantly weaker.

But Killer didn't say that.

Hawkins did.

"Your clash with the warlocks drained you to such weakness."

Killer was thankful he was wearing a mask. He didn't know what kind of grimace flashed across his face just now.

"What did you say…!?" Kid yelled, ignoring the pain and the irritable sticky mix of sweat and blood on his skin. He thrashed about again, less threatening now that the branches had tightened around him like brown snakes hissing as they slithered to find anchor around and underneath the bed where it found more cracks on the floor. The Scarecrow stood quietly without a change in expression even as Kid hurled insults and curses at him.

"If you want me to leave you like this, you only need to say so." Hawkins finally spoke and then turned to Killer who had abandoned the impossible task of making the room look presentable in sixty seconds. "I can come back once this red dog has calmed down. Or never, if he so chooses."

"Did you call him here!?" Kid shouted at Killer. "Did you tell him I needed help!?"

"You do." The blonde werewolf sighed.

"I don't!"

"You obviously do." Hawkins said, his tone still unchanging. "Your arm needs tending to."

"Get your fucking straw fingers away from me!" Kid struggled loudly and uselessly as Hawkins approached the bed, folding his sleeves up his arm. "Don't think I don't know that you only want to look at my cursed limb to satisfy your curiosity!"

"These curious straw fingers could be your only chance at getting your arm back."

"Bullshit! You haven't unraveled a silencer's curse in your life!"

"What insult." Hawkins was eyeing at the arm in question. "Of course, I have."

"I doubt you can unravel this!" Kid was talking to his cousin but was looking disgustedly at the dry vines that were crawling and coiling around the metal framework around his arm. "This god damned curse spread so fast, you'd think it was water!"

"I was informed of such details."

"Killer, you told him, you fucking traitor!?" Kid hollered like a toddler with a tantrum. "I will murder you!"

The masked man shrugged and crossed his arms. His lord didn't mean his threats. He never did. Not to him.

But Hawkins did not care.

"Eustass Kid, do you want your arm back or not!?"

For just a split second, Hawkins' face changed into that of a scarecrow with angry yellow irises and black sclera and a slashed black crescent for a mouth. His words sounded like angry hissing from hell, lashing out like a shrill threat. His gaze aimed sharply at Kid like a throwing knife stabbing his flesh. The alpha wolf's voice died down and his struggle ceased. The wolf's own yellow eyes turned back into dark ones as his vision fell to the floor. Hawkins allowed him a few more seconds of silence before stepping closer, his face back to the pale, apathetic visage it had been earlier.

A new set of vines crawled up from a long crack on the floor, weaving themselves among each other until there was a brown chair of branches in front of the bed. Kid looked disturbed but said nothing.

"I'm going to have to plant a seed to stop you from bleeding any further." Hawkins said levelly. Kid nodded.

"And then another seed to map out your arm." At that, the red werewolf's nostrils flared as his eyes widened at his cousin who was quick to retort, "Or would you rather I open you up to examine?"

Kid growled and looked away. The dried vines and branches uncoiled themselves from Kid's limbs. Hawkins then leaned forward to inspect the cursed arm, clicking his tongue.

Killer let out a quiet exhale.

Eustass Kidd and Basil Hawkins. Both were lords of their own families suffering from different curses from different warlock clans during the infamous Warlocks' Conflict several hundred years ago. The Eustass clan, a family of inventors, and the Basil clan, a family of alchemists, have worked together for centuries. They fought alongside each other during the Conflict, but the Basils lost to the Trafalgars and the Eustasses to the Vinsmokes. The Vinsmokes inflicted the Lycan's curse upon the inventors and used the pack as one of the forces to fight the war. The Trafalgars, on the other hand, tested various spells on the Basils as part of their research, which resulted into turning the survivors into scarecrow-like creatures with plant-related abilities. They were considered failures not worth naming.

While it was said that the Conflict laid the foundation for today's strongest warlock clans and led to an advanced age for mana manipulation and sorcery, it did not go without innocent casualties. Neither of the cousins were alive during the Conflict but the curse persisted to afflict them and what remained of their house. This included the lesser houses pledged to them and caught with them when the curse was inflicted. And it would continue to be passed on to their children and their children's children until someone managed to undo the curse. Sadly, there was no cure for the Lycan curse and the experiments on the Basils were deemed irreversible to this day.

"Your pack is downstairs. I've seen to their injuries." Hawkins' voice broke both the silence and Killer's thoughts. "They're all out of mortal danger now."

"Thank you." Kid muttered without hesitation, his voice truly grateful and leagues apart from the rough, arrogant tone he was striking at his cousin earlier.

Killer smiled behind his mask. Their leader was rash and rude with no mercy for his enemies but he did not lack for care for his pack. Sometimes Killer thought he loved his followers more than himself.

While treating the entire pack earlier downstairs, Hawkins had commented on how it was a wonder that the warlocks killed none of them. He was quite surprised to learn that a single incubus did all the damage to everyone but Kid. But since it was common knowledge that incubi were not made to fight, the Scarecrow assumed that it was also the reason that none of them died. Killer had a different opinion. It seemed to him that the demon deliberately chose not to kill any of them despite being fully capable of doing so. For what reason, however, Killer wasn't certain.

"What madness compelled you to strike?" Hawkins commented casually as he leaned back and watched his fingers turn into brown stems slowly branching out and intertwining to form a copy of Kid's arm—a framework of twigs with various shades of brown. Killer noticed the appearance of three dark triangles above each of the Scarecrow's eyebrows and a dark cross at the base of his throat.

"I saw a chance and I took it." Kid responded easily.

"Fool." Hawkins clicked his tongue as he watched the first layer of branches part to reveal more twigs underneath. Killer did not understand what he was doing but he didn't think it was his place to inquire.

"It was stupid to attack him without more information."

"I thought we stalked him enough."

"If it had been enough, this wouldn't have happened." Hawkins crossed his legs, blinking thoughtfully at the cluster of interwoven dried vines that emulated Kid's arm.

"That's why I said I thought it was enough."

"We knew he was the Donquixote head's nephew. That alone should have merited at least a month more of observation or else we lower the probability of success."

"Again, motherfucker, I made an assumption, which I have already admitted was a miscalculation."

"Miscalculation." The Scarecrow scoffed.

Hawkins' pale index finger reached for his throat and traced a vertical line over the dark cross. A gash opened on his skin from where he pulled out a thin piece of what seemed to be a playing card. There was no blood or a glimpse of muscle, vein, or bone; nothing but a small black slit at the base of his neck. And even if this wasn't the first time Killer was seeing the Scarecrow do such a thing, fucking hell, he found it creepy all the same.

"Did you even know how ridiculously ignorant this one was?" Kid talked over Killer who was about to say something but was only able to get one syllable out.

"No, but…" Hawkins replied as he started to slide the card between some of the twigs. He had not gotten a corner of his card in when it burst into flames, leaving nothing but smoke. Kid had gasped in surprise. Hawkins clicked his tongue before resuming his sentence. "Did you think the Trafalgars are stupid enough to let anyone with their name walk around like prey that's begging to be hunted?"

That made Killer think.

Anyone carrying the surname of a powerful warlock clan would be required to know how to manipulate mana else they would be a shame to the family name. Now if Trafalgar Law couldn't manipulate mana for whatever reason, he would have been killed by his own clan without question. It was "safer for the family that way".

So perhaps Trafalgar Law wasn't prey after all? No. He barely put up a fight. Then maybe they wanted him to die? That didn't seem to be right either. Surely the Trafalgars had means to eliminate him if they wanted to, right? But Trafalgar Law was very much alive. So did that mean they couldn't kill him themeselves? Or shouldn't?

Why?

What could possibly stop a powerful warlock family from killing someone as ignorantly useless as that? Did Trafalgar Law manage to flee from his clan? Impossible. Unless he had help from the outside.

"The Donquixotes are protecting him." Kid said surely as if he could read Killer's thoughts. "A clone of their family lord showed up from his fucking mana lock."

Killer could feel his eyes widen. This was the first time he was hearing that. Perhaps Kid was waiting for a better time to talk about it.

But the involvement of the Donquixotes made sense location-wise. The Trafalgars' main territory was Flevance. Trafalgar Law was in Dressrosa, a long way from his possibly dangerous home. And while the Donquixotes' main seat was in Marejois, Dressrosa was one of the territories under their jurisdiction.

"Just because the clone looked like him doesn't mean it was made by him or anyone from his family." Hawkins uncrossed his legs. "The Donquixotes could be protecting him but the possibility exists that you are being misled. All assumptions are never facts unless proven to be so."

The Scarecrow leaned forward, and poked two fingers into the twig arm. Killer looked at Kid to make sure this wasn't hurting him in anyway and found the red-haired werewolf rolling his eyes away.

"I already answered that shit argument. But fine. Point taken." Kid smirked and shrugged. "Regardless, the Donquixotes are dumb not to teach him shit. Just like the Trafalgars. I mean, really? He came from one family and is protected by another? How the fuck can he know nothing? Warlock training is supposed to start at an early age. Fuck, they'd train babies from the womb if it were possible."

Hawkins only spared him an unconvinced glance before pulling out two cards from the cross marking on his neck.

"He can't even use his mana at will." Killer added as if to reinforce his lord's premise but then stopped, his back going rigid before turning to Kid. "Wait, no. He had a familiar."

"So? He couldn't fight."

"But he had a familiar!"

Kid rolled his eyes away again

"Familiar-schmiliar. Like that explains everything. The most he did was try to attack me with mana prickles. What was his plan? Give me rashes?" The red-haired wolf growled impatiently. "So, yeah, sure, he had a familiar—a familiar he couldn't use."

"Kid." Killer took a step towards his alpha wolf, both of them totally ignoring how Hawkins was muttering something as one card hovered over his right hand and another over the twig arm. "No matter how pure his mana is, there is no way an ordinary human could snare a familiar by accident. And he tethered, remember? He sent mana to his familiar directly. It was reckless, yes. The success rate for such a technique is so low, it could have killed even an experienced warlock in five minutes. And if a regular, untrained human managed to pull it off by some miracle, his inexperienced body wouldn't be able to handle it. Pure mana would disintegrate him."

"Then how is he alive!? Why didn't he fight back!? Why was he so fucking dumb!?" Kid snarled. He was pissed not at Killer but at how they couldn't get to an answer. "He didn't even know I was coming! He hadn't trained his demon! He couldn't borrow regeneration at will! He couldn't... Couldn't anything!"

"Exactly." Killer raised a thick finger. "Someone with that last name, protected by another family, smelling that dangerously nice, but without any knowledge about mana manipulation or the world we're moving in… How the do you think he's still alive?"

Kid made a noise of contemplation.

"No one's attacked him?" The alpha wolf shook his head. "Unlikely."

"So they don't want him to die but they don't teach him to protect himself." Killer spoke, crossing his arms as he looked up thoughtfully at the ceiling. "It doesn't make sense."

"Why do they not just lock him up in a tower or something, then!?" Kid grumbled, flexing his phantom hand. The metal fingers creaked. Hawkins irritably clicked his tongue but Kid kept talking. "No one was following him around to protect him except for crazy demon slut. Why did they have to wait for him to be attacked?"

Both cards burst into white flames leaving only smoke in its wake.

"And this is why we should have waited." Hawkins spoke with a tone of finality. "But you just had to take that risk you mistook for an 'opportunity', didn't you?"

"Meaning no offense although I don't really give a shit if you are offended," Kid scratched his ear with his free hand. "But I really wasn't expecting you to help fight this Trafalgar. Or any Trafalgar for that matter."

Hawkins did not even twitch but that insult didn't go unnoticed judging by how the air around him immediately tensed before smoothing out shortly. Perhaps the Scarecrow immediately realized it wasn't a jab at his strength or cunning. The Trafalgars cursed his entire clan after all. Until said curse is lifted, no mana-induced technique performed by any member of the Basil family could harm anyone who traced his lineage to Trafalgars. In the same way, no one from the Eustass clan could harm a Vinsmoke.

"Is that why you were so eager on eating his heart?" Hawkins leaned back into his woven chair again, watching the dried vines unravel themselves to turn back into Hawkins' long, white fingers. The triangles above his eyebrows and the cross at the base of his throat disappeared. "Did you do it for my sake? Because you wanted to kill one of my casters' kin?"

"Don't flatter yourself, dear cousin." Kid replied with a smirk. "It's just that I haven't forgotten what his clan did to mine."

"Forgot? You speak as if you were there." Hawkins shrugged. "I doubt the Trafalgar you are chasing knows of the failed experiment to reverse the Lycan curse. And even if he did, it's not like he is responsible for the sins of his forebears."

"He carries the sin of being born into that family."

"That stupidity is what got your arm cursed. You lost your limb to a pointless grudge."

"It's not entirely just a grudge." Kid half-laughed when Killer thought he would be angry. "Even if he doesn't manipulate mana, just being a Trafalgar guarantees that his mana is very refined. Eating his heart will stabilize the Lycan curse. I'm not a fan of being unable to manipulate mana and uncontrollably changing into a wolf every full moon. But you know that already, don't you?"

"Still doesn't merit that." Hawkins nodded at his cousin's arm.

"Is it just me or has my cousin developed some form of love for his casters?" Kid asked Killer before turning back to the Scarecrow. "Is it because you go to the same schoolhouse?"

"I harbor no love for your prey. I barely know him." The blonde visitor said coolly. "I simply see it pointless to fault him for something he never did. But trust me when I say I would be glad to rid this earth of one of the Trafalgars."

"Oh?" Kid sounded amused.

"It's one more dead caster. One less person for me to fear. You, on the other hand—"

"Anything on his arm?" Killer felt the need to intervene before this turned ugly.

Hawkins only looked at him from the corner of his eye, obviously displeased with the interruption.

"The curse is deeply rooted." The Scarecrow sighed heavily, crossing his arms and legs. "There's still traces of the curse but most of it has dissolved into your life essence and it will continue to do so in the coming days until there's barely a trace of it. It's made itself part of your system."

Hawkins raised a finger when he saw Kid was about to say something.

"If I attempt to cut out what I can trace of it, there is a fifty percent chance of paralyzing the left side of your body, a thirty percent chance of paralyzing your entire body, and a ten percent chance of killing you."

"A success rate of ten percent." Kid muttered absently like he was still trying to add up the numbers as he spoke.

"Not so." Hawkins shook his head. "There is a five percent chance that this curse will afflict me as well, a three percent chance that Killer gets afflicted as a third casualty due to his proximity, and a one percent chance that it inflicts all living creatures within a still undetermined radius. All of the last three probabilities does not render you cured."

"One percent." Killer whispered, trying not to slip into a daze. "It's that potent?"

"Whatever silencer scripted this is certainly beyond our caliber." Hawkins pressed his elbows on the armrests and wove his fingers together as he leaned forward.

"I told you so, you dumb Scarecrow!" Kid exploded but he had no strength in him to get up so he kicked Hawkins' wooden seat instead. "Why am I even surprised, eh!? I knew that our mystery silencer was out of your league! I told you, it spread so fast! I barely had time to kill off my circuits! I bet you didn't believe me, did you? I bet you didn't think I knew how slow silence curses were supposed to be casted? You are out of your mind!"

"Am I?" Hawkins didn't even bother to stir. "You provoked monsters beyond our league. Which one of us is out of his mind?"

Silence. Grumbling.

"More importantly, I never said we can't do anything." Hawkins snapped his eyes seriously at his cousin. Kid's yelling died down like a silently urge for him to continue. Killer swallowed hard.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" Kid grumbled.

"I doubt you can read what you're looking for." Said a deep voice that seemed to have come from within the walls. "So my money is on no."

"Who's there!?" Kid motioned to stand up, stumbling forward after forgetting about his large metal arm. Hawkins got up as well, his wooden chair unraveling itself back under the cracks. The three young men looked around; the werewolves sniffing for a scent of their intruder but dangerously finding none. But their hearing found what their eyes and noses initially couldn't. The sound of fine grain made them turn towards one of the ceiling corners where sand spilled ominously from a crack followed by the thick smell of tobacco.

"What the shit…?" Kid grumbled, ignoring the pain and the irritable sticky mix of sweat and blood on his skin. Killer immediately shushed him by defensively moving half-a-step in front of his alpha wolf as they both watched the sand grains crawl on the corners of the ceiling and the wall. It gathered towards the nearby chair, pushing the clothes off and slowly sculpting itself into an earthy silhouette of a man sitting with his legs crossed.

He was a large, middle-aged man with black slicked back hair that fell to the back of his ears. The large scar with stitches across his face and running over his nose went oddly well with how his heavy-lidded eyes stared disturbingly smug at both Kid and Killer. Sand quietly seeped like eerie wisps under the large pelted fur coat over his broad shoulders that swayed slightly as the grains completed his form on the chair.

This stranger looked human but he sure as fuck didn't smell like one.

"Good evening, gentlemen." There was a puff of smoke from where the cigar stuck out of his mouth. His left hand was still forming into what seemed to be a large golden hook.

"That sand making you high?" Kid raised his head, making sure to show his teeth as he spoke. "How 'bout introducing your grainy ass?"

Normally, Kid would have skipped the questions and jumped to ripping his throat out but his current situation gave no room for that.

The man smirked and took a long drag from his cigar before puffing more smoke. He stared leisurely at Killer and then Kid and then Hawkins. The red-haired werewolf growled threateningly. The sand stranger merely scoffed. Kid eyed the ashes and embers of burnt tobacco that had fallen on his floor and contemplated how he was going to wipe it using this asshole's stitched face.

"You are new if you don't know who the alpha wolf in Dressrosa is."

"You mean aside from me?" Kid scoffed back even more smugly. "That's one alpha wolf too many, old man."

The newly-arrived stranger raised a thin eyebrow, more amused than insulted as he laughed with slow, deep-sounded syllables that complimented the lazy smoke from his cigar before he broke into loud roaring laughter. When his audible mirth had died down, he eyed Kid once again, striding towards him without breaking eye contact as the taller and older man approached.

"One alpha wolf too many, indeed… Pup."

It was annoying how Kid wanted to make a fist with the phantom hand on his lost arm. He didn't really want to admit it, but if he got into a fight with this other alpha, he'd probably get ripped to shreds especially with that… Wait. Kid sniffed discreetly. This stranger didn't smell like a human but neither did he smell like a wolf. Both of the aforementioned creatures had no ability to change their composition like how this man turned into sand. Such abilities belonged to demons. But this one didn't smell like a demon either. Kid thought back to the string person from the Trafalgar's heart but that one was hollow and empty. This one was pretty much alive.

Not a demon. Not a wolf. Not a human. Not a clone.

"I know you." Hawkins finally found his voice. "You're Sir Crocodile."

Holy. Shit. Was all Kid could think of.

Sir Crocodile was a chimera, if the rumors were to be believed. He was originally a warlock cursed to be a werewolf until the Trafalgars grafted an elemental demon's blueprints into him so he could be sand himself. He was a dangerous entity and how he escaped the Trafalgars would forever remain a mystery.

Chimera. Chimera. Kid repeated in his head. A fucking man-made creature. Chimera.

"Finally, we're getting somewhere." Sir Crocodile half-laughed, whirling back to step towards the chair, his coat rustling behind him. He didn't sit. "I assume you know what I'm here for?"

The three young men looked at each other hesitantly. No answer.

"I gave you too much credit." The man sighed, puffing smoke that danced up until it faded. "Blonde hair. Pointy shades. Pink coat. Shit-eating grin. Strings. You know what I'm talking about now?"

Only too well. Kid thought but held his tongue. How did this stranger even know about that encounter? Sir Crocodile laughed lowly, knowingly. Kid hated that.

"You're hundreds of years too early to be taking on that monster, pup."

Hawkins gave him a side glance as if to say "I told you so.". And that may have been true but Kid wasn't about to sit around and—

"And you are capable of taking him on?" Hawkins asked with a pinch of annoyance that Kid rarely heard in his tone.

"Yes, Scarecrow." The older man spoke seriously, taking a drag from his cigarette before continuing, " I actually have a bone to pick with that flamboyant motherfucker."

Kid wanted to say something but couldn't begin to figure out what he should say first. Even if Sir Crocodile had… issues with the Donquixotes and the Trafalgars but it didn't mean they could just work together. This creature was notoriously demented. Almost as ruthless as Doflamingo himself if not on par! Not only that, he was more than just cursed. He was an abomination—a creature born from a very ambitious experiment that even the warlocks deemed outrageous.

"What do you need us for, then?" Hawkins quickly asked almost impatiently. "I doubt you're here for a leisurely chat."

"Don't flatter yourself. I wouldn't say need." Crocodile looked at the chair and touched the armrest but didn't sit. "I daresay it's you who need me."

"Screw you." Kid's voice was sharp, almost insulted.

"Keep talking like that and I won't tell you where the Vinsmoke is."

"Tss. What good is that?" Kid scoffed and almost spat. His large metal hand creaked as if to laugh with him. "The Vinsmokes are stale. They haven't kept their warlock lines. Whatever Vinsmoke is left has diluted blood. Not one of my remaining casters can heal me."

"This one has a demon."

Hawkins' jaw tightened. Both he and Killer turned to Kid who wasn't sure what to say to that. A Vinsmoke with a demon meant his life essence was exposed to an extent of mana manipulation. If this one willingly gave Kid his blood then perhaps it could purge the curse out of Kid's arm.

It's an if, though. If.

"Liar." The red werewolf finally spat out. Hawkins looked like he wanted to say something but didn't. Sir Crocodile merely smiled and tilted his head with a low, "Oh?" When there was no answer from the three younger men, Sir Crocodile took that as his cue to continue.

"I know a safe place to plot everything if you'd like to discuss."

"We don't need your protection." Kid snapped again.

"Good. Because I have no intention of protecting you." The taller man nodded, eyeing Kid, Hawkins, and then Killer before looking around as if to mock the room. "But neither do I have any intention of conducting further negotiations and future planning in a hazardous dumpster like this. I don't like interruptions."

"Interruptions?"

"The Donquixotes are never happy when that boy gets targeted." Crocodile said with a huff as he leisurely walked around. "It wasn't difficult for me to find you. That family will have no trouble either. I trust you agree that this isn't a safe place."

Kid growled and was about to snap at him but the man's eerie grey eyes turned to him. Something about them pushed the words back down his throat.

"And if we refuse to listen?" Killer asked levelly. "What do you plan on doing?"

"Why, I plan on doing nothing." Crocodile shrugged as he sat down on the chair. "If you're lucky, the pink feathered Puppeteer will find you and end you."

"And if we're not lucky?"

The man lifted his golden hook.

"The sickly Clown will find you first."

Ominously, an evening breeze came and went. Everyone stood silently and unmoving, holding their breaths, contemplating. Kid let his eyes linger around the room without moving from where he stood as his sharp vision peered between two blades of broken blinds. Up in the night sky, the moon still hung like a solitary lamp. To the werewolves, this moon was not as peaked as it was the night before but it was the same moon nonetheless that looked down on everyone this night.

And it was the same moon that Baby Five was looking upon moments before she made her way down the hallway leading to the room where she would find the heads of the Donquixote family. Or more accurately, the head, as they should be treated as a single unit despite being two greatly different people.

United by a single person, which they both feel differently for.

She didn't even find that strange.

When Baby Five stepped into Uncle Doffy's office, Cora-san's Silence territory was already in effect. This wasn't the first time she'd experienced it but the short second of adjusting to not hearing or feeling anything outside the dome was something she probably won't get used to. It didn't help that the air around the Donquixote brothers was always thick and strained.

Right now, the room was particularly tense. Ever since Law had gotten attacked by werewolves and barely survived, Cora-san had been alarmed almost a hundred percent of the time His aura kept on nagging at his very irritated brother until Law was deemed safe.

"What news?" Cora-san spoke to Baby Five from the couch where he was sitting cross-legged. His brother was behind his office table, sitting on his large executive chair. The large curtains were drawn closed and the room was dimly lit by the soft glow of faux candlelight on the wall.

Baby Five took out her phone and whispered "Scara". The screen glowed and then died. Soon after, lines of light started coming out from the gadget. It moved in quick elegant strokes, drawing out a clean, glowing outline of the phone in thin-air. Baby Five tucked the physical phone back in her pocket and turned to the light phone hovering in front of her. She put two fingers on either of the diagonal corners and pulled, making the entire framework bigger. When it was the size of a textbook, she took it in her hands and swiped to navigate like she would a normal tablet. Glowing inscriptions spun on her fingertips as she tapped on the transparent but glowing screen. A steady thrumming from a mana circle that drew itself under her feet. The same mana circle glowed in her irises.

So much better than the physical phones Humbles like to use. Baby Five thought to herself. It was much safer, too, as it can't be stolen with just a snatch and its contents could be safeguarded and even trapped. It was during these times she felt thankful for the Donquixote family's innovation.

With one final tap, it chimed a single note and Baby Five cleared her throat. Uncle Doffy exhaled as if to say "Finally".

"The pack seems to have scattered." She began, intently looking at the notes scripted using an alphabet made readable via a spell exclusive to the Donquixote family. "We have information on their whereabouts and we're in the process of checking them all."

She made two taps among other finger gestures. In an instant, there was a projection of a map for all three of them to see. Mana circles drew themselves under the Donquixote brothers. But where Baby Five's was white, the brothers had a mix of silver and gold. Baby Five had always found that curious but knew better than to ask.

She waved three fingers over the image hovering in front of her and several dots lit up.

"This is the real-time mapping of the search. The blue spots represent areas that have yet to be checked. Blinking spots are being checked right now. Red ones are negatives."

"There's more red than blue." Cora-san mumbled. His irises had the same rotating mana circles of silver and gold. Although Doflamingo's eyes remain hidden behind his pointy shades, there was no doubt that he had glyphs in his irises as well. Otherwise, all the information that Baby Five was presenting would have been unreadable to him.

"It's seems the pack had made necessary precautions on covering their tracks so we're being careful." Baby Five replied. Three blinking blue spots turned red. "Even our clairvoyants haven't found them yet but they're still on it as we speak. We're not sure who their casters are, if said families are still alive or if we're allied to any of them but Monet is on that."

"What do you mean we're not sure?" Cora-san sounded quite annoyed but changed into a calmer tone after clearing his throat almost immediately. "Didn't Luffy tell us everything? The wolf's surname… What was it again…?"

"Eustass."

"Eustass, yes."

"A family of inventors from the south." Doflamingo sounded bored. "Weren't a powerful house but significant enough to be turned into wolves during the Conflict."

"So?" The younger was talking to his sibling but was looking at the map. "Isn't it a matter of finding which family cursed them and making said family deal with their blunder?"

"They're supposedly turned by the Trafalgars." Baby Five's reply made Cora-san turn his head towards her. "But we've proven that to be false because he was able to lay his hands on Law. So we're assuming it's one of the houses once allied to the family."

A second of silence. Donquixote Rocinante made a small sound and shrugged. He gestured for her to continue.

"As for Sir Crocodile..."

"Drop that." Doflamingo waved a gloved hand. "Vergo is on that."

Baby Five looked up, nodded, and looked down on the light phone again so she could note the change.

"We should have killed him when we had the chance." Cora-san's voice sounded stronger than what Baby Five was used to. He was particularly on edge today. Baby Five wasn't surprised. They hadn't caught any of the Eustass wolves yet.

"What we had in the mana lock was too occupied with Law and his fuck buddy to deal with it. And we couldn't have made chase."

"I was talking about Sir Crocodile."

On another note, it was so strange that they were even talking about Sir Crocodile. Baby Five had subconsciously written him off as dead after he took Cora-san's silence curse in full force. He lost a hand to the brothers. It was foolish of him to try and eat seven-year old Law and even more foolish to take on the Donquixote brothers at the same time. The Puppeteer and the Clown. Perhaps he thought Cora-san was a weakling and counted him for nothing. But honestly, who could blame him? No one would know that the sickly younger Donquixote brother was the most talented Silencer alive on the planet, unrivaled by anyone to this day. How could anyone know that the love that he bore for Law's mother was the secret to his strength, his life, and ironically, his death?

Love does strange things to all creatures. It drives humans and demons mad.

"Just how likely is it that Crocodile's on this?" Cora-san's question made Baby Five snap to attention. Oh, dear. Was he talking to her?

"Unlikely, to be honest." Doflamingo sighed with a small shrug as he leaned back on his chair and studied the large map. "But dogs are stupid and stupid things know no fear. I'm not missing out a chance on getting an excuse to kill that mutt once and for all."

"Contact his casters, then."

The tone Cora-san took made Baby Five's eyes flick towards her uncle for a split second if only for a glimpse of the face he was making. She didn't see. Doflamingo clicked his tongue.

"And make it look like we can't handle him on our own when we actually can?"

"It's an emergen—"

"Stop calling everything about Law an emergency."

Another second of silence. Doflamingo cleared his throat. Cora-san turned to his niece.

"Anything from Law, Fai?"

"None at the moment." Was her quick response. "I sent a text to Luffy, too, but I think he's yet to see it."

"Speaking of the lowlife, it's time we address that." Doflamingo sounded exasperated and disappointed. "Law has an incubus. Who fucking walks around with a useless demon class as his only god damn familiar? Shameful."

"It's not like Law did it on purpose." Cora-san's voice was now calm and sure. "He isn't a warlock. He can't Perform."

Doflamingo made a disgusted noise as he turned his head in a very annoyed arc.

"Of course, Law can't be classified as a warlock but do you seriously believe that Law is alive right now because he can't Perform?" The head of the manor rested his weight on his right arm. "Do you really believe Law snared that thing without Performing? Pray tell, Roci, if not Performance then how?"

"Demons have approached him before." Cora-san replied unflustered like they've had this conversation before. "He hasn't snared any of the previous ones. Luffy is an isolated case."

Previous ones. Baby Five tried thinking back to how many strange creatures had posed to be Law's friend or lover. Anyone—anything—that wasn't a Humble that suspiciously went beyond acquaintance was… dealt with.

"That's because we got rid of the cocky buggers." Doflamingo slapped a large hand on the table. "And even if we didn't, Law would end up killing them himself."

"Law would never kill anyone."

"Except his mother." The man with the pointy shades tilted his head sarcastically at his brother across the room.

Baby Five looked at her sickly uncle. He was still sitting on the couch, unmoving, unfazed, unprovoked. His mana didn't even flinch. At that point, Doflamingo sighed and laughed to himself, shaking his head.

"Or are you going to say he wasn't responsible for Lea's death because he can't perform?"

Oh, there was her name. And there was a small spike of emotion from Cora-san's mana before it smoothened out again. Everyone knew how Cora-san hated it when his brother mentioned her. Baby Five wished to be dismissed before they started arguing enough to make the air around them difficult to breathe.

"You know why Lea died, Doffy."

His voice was still leveled but firm and oddly threatening, like the calm before a storm. But if Donquixote Doflamingo was afraid of anything, it wouldn't be of this brewing storm.

"I do know, dear baby brother. She gave birth to Law."

"You know why she died."

Cora-san stressed that word like he wasn't going to let his brother deny anything. Baby Five bit her lip and looked at her feet. The mana circle continued to thrum like it didn't want to be a part of this argument either.

Any talk about Aunt Lea's death left a bitter taste in the back of Baby Five's throat. This had been the case ever since she heard some older warlocks whispering about her aunt during a gathering for Law's seventh birthday.

"She died giving birth to this child, didn't she? If the rumors are true, wouldn't it be more accurate to say that giving birth to him, she couldn't have lived?"

"If the rumors are true."

"Well, Lea had always been problematic."

What that meant exactly, Baby Five didn't know then and she still didn't know now.

"We both know why she died, Roci." Doflamingo spoke again. Childbirth. Baby Five thought but she didn't lift her head to see what expression he was wearing as her uncle continued, "And all you've done since then is make horrendous decisions while dragging me along because I have no fucking choice."

"Lea would've wanted Law out of this mess."

"This mess?" Uncle Doffy sounded appalled. "This thing you call 'mess' was founded on your beloved Lea's handiwork. And you furthered it. With stupidity, if I might add. You think she'd like this? You think she'd be glad of what Law had become?"

"Oh, and you know what's best for Law, Doffy? He's—"

"A product of research."

A what? Baby Five's eyes tried to see as much of her uncles as she could without moving her head. Did he say Law was a product of research? She knew Law wasn't a regular human but… But…

She wasn't aware how she was holding her breath.

"Lea is his mother." A thick drop of anger found its way in the younger Donquixote's voice. "She was pregnant with him, gave birth to him."

"And he killed her."

"Stop twisting the truth!" Cora-san was on his feet in an instant, his long legs striding towards his brother, faster than Baby Five thought he could travel. He was almost a blur. "You killed her!"

Nothing in this world could have stopped Baby Five from lifting her head. Whatever expression was on her face, she didn't care for either.

"No, we killed her, Roci." Doflamingo didn't even bother to get up or shout back. "The system killed her. This world killed her."

Killed.

Killed.

Aunt Lea was killed?!

"Shut up!" It was Cora-san's turn to slam an angry palm on his brother's desk. "I tried to do what I could even as you tried to brainwash our—"

Our? Their? Him and who? Their what? Baby Five was so stunned, even her surprise shut itself down. What were her uncles saying? She was aware that lords such as them had secrets of their own but she was inclined to think they would be more careful. Had they forgotten she was here?

Donquixote Doflamingo slowly leaned forward in a challenge.

"To brainwash your what?"

Doflamingo was the one seated and yet he seemed to be the one staring his younger brother down. And for a second, it seemed the color drained out of Cora-san's already pale face.

"You will leave Lea out of this." Cora-san's voice was a whisper and yet a sharper warning. "We're no longer talking about this. I've had enough."

There was a pause before the younger of the two lords headed back to the couch, rubbing between his eyebrows.

"Rocinante." Doflamingo called, his voice not giving anything away. "You don't want him to hate you. That's not possible."

"Enough, Doffy." Cora-san was obviously not amused but his brother didn't seem to have any intention of hitting the brakes on this train.

"He will hate you and the things you did and are still doing for the stupid feeling you call love."

"What we did was—"

"What Lea would've wanted?" The blonde man behind the desk prodded on with his mocking tone. "Is that what you tell yourself every night as you touch yourself, Roci?"

"I told you to leave her out of this!" Donquixote Rocinante turned violently towards his brother. A gush of mana strongly sweept across the room, rustling their feathered cloaks and stealing some of Baby Five's breathing space. While it wasn't enough to wipe the smile off Doflamingo's face, it was enough to make him stop talking. The faux candlelight flickered ominously. Baby Five took one step back. Only then did the younger Doflamingo acknowledge her with a quick glance. He said nothing and turned to his sibling behind the desk.

"You seem to be forgetting who you're talking to, Donquixote Doflamingo." Cora-san lifted his head and Baby Five could only be wary of how his mana swirled heavily around his own brother.

"On the contrary, I speak this way precisely because I know who I'm talking to." Doflamingo remained unfazed. Cora-san glared harder at him until Doflamingo waved him off.

"This has been a pointless conversation, Roci. Do me a favor and get out of my office."

"I don't need you to tell me that." Donquixote Rocinante replied spitefully, turning towards his neice. "Fai and I were just about to leave, really."

"B-but the…" She wanted to mention the presentation she was giving but Cora-san shook his head. All the girl could do was respond with a nod and was about to remove her floating visuals when her uncles told her to leave it be. She nodded quickly again, the symbols dying from beneath her feet and in her irises, leaving nothing but the floating light phone and the map with blinking dots.

"Law is the most precious gift that Lea's left behind, Doffy." Cora-san spoke lowly as he started towards where Baby Five was standing. "I'm not going to let you ruin what remains of his life."

Doflamingo hummed curiously, two rows of teeth flashing like an omen.

"Fai." Cora-san put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up. He was looking at her with sad, apologetic eyes. The girl was too light-headed to make any sense of it.

"Y-yes, uncle?"

That seemed to make him smile a little before he said, "Do forgive me."

Huh?

"Silent."

All around her, the world rang and cried and shouted in a million voices as a thousand hands reached into her mind, grabbing at her thoughts like it was digging for something she didn't know. In the chaos of words that echoed in her consciousness, her last thought was a question.

Why did Aunt Lea truly die?

AN: Again, sorry for the long wait! Issues have taken over my life or this would've been up earlier. Special thanks to Venatorphile for helping me proofread this chapter. Anyway, I'd like to take this chance to ask you guys some questions:

1. Would you be interested if I sold digital doujins for LawLu and other pairings from One Piece and other anime? Or maybe write a story and then partner with an artist? There are at least two or three who I might be able to partner with but I can't share their names right now.

2. Would you be interested in any original fictional work I might have? I'd post it on Wattpad or if you have better sites/hosts, do tell.

Anyway, my tumblr handle is xairylle in case you want to see my other work. There are fanfic drabbles there, too. Ah, and I'm also on Twitter as xairylle_art. I've been there a while now but I've only recently started being active.

Also, if you like my content, please consider supporting me via my Ko-Fi account ( ko-fi xairylle )

And finally, PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! Thanks, guys!