『 Eerie Blue; Empty Black。』
Cross is a boy with mismatched eyes; Takara is a man with a metal spine; Leer's a freaking baby grizzly out in the open sea for no good reason.
Whoever thought a pirate crew like this would be a good idea?
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※ CONTENTS
I...
Йой! Нажаль, це зображення не відповідає нашим правилам. Щоб продовжити публікацію, будь ласка, видаліть його або завантажте інше.
Йой! Нажаль, це зображення не відповідає нашим правилам. Щоб продовжити публікацію, будь ласка, видаліть його або завантажте інше.
"A Zoan Devil Fruit User," Ensie swore to himself, "looks like a canine beast to me, a wolf? A fox?"
He spun his halberd, not too affected by the change. He was a Rear Admiral, after all-- a Fruit user or two wasn't much of a surprise-- the only shocking element was that he was in West Blue, and that he didn't know what this beast was supposed to be. It only mattered to him how annoying it would be to deal with it while transporting a convict.
The girl had claws, and speed.
She lunged right at the Rear Admiral, fear absent from her veins.
Ensie took two steps back-- and met her strike with a clear clang of his axe. A hard swing from his back, blade on claw, the force of wind whirled from impact, sending shockwaves reverberating through the land.
Their eyes met.
His were deep brown-- against hers that burned an unnatural crimson.
She was no longer human.
Ensie gripped his staff with both hands-- and with a grunt-filled warcry, he anchored his foot and pushed forward. It was a Zoan user-- anyone with less than incomparable strength stood no chance. He clenched his shoulders, and threw the girl into the air.
Rose lost, flailing miserably against the pressure-- she was thrown into the sky-- and left to fall prey to gravity she couldn't fight.
Ensie leaped, and with one hard, merciless swing of his blade-- metal swooped across her back, leaving a deep, red trail that wound much more than her physical pride.
When the Rear Admiral landed back down, he considered if he shouldn't have scarred a girl's back. It wasn't gentlemanly to be leaving scars at all-- but would it have been preferable if he attacked her front? Well, he would talk this over with his subordinates.
Rose could only howl as she was defeated-- so pathetically-- in less than even a minute. She wasn't even a foe to him, just a nuisance, an obstructive pebble so easy to deal with.
She was miserable, so pitiable.
Plunging onto a roof tent was the least of her worries. She plummeted, breaking the contraption, shattering a vase-- and only tumbled weakly to the corner, her back raw and bleeding in a wound that, although may not take her life, wounded her.
