MARINE CRIMINAL INVESTIGATIVE SERVICE

VALERIS ISLAND HQ - ARCHIVES

AUDIO TRANSCRIPT - INTERROGATION ROOM 2E

CASE NO. 2306-4837

"WITNESS F"

TIME STAMP

«　01:02:24 - 01:17:32　»

WITNESS: (silence; chair creaking)

PRIMARY INVESTIGATOR (P.I.): (sighs) [REDACTED]-san ... (rustling) I don't know how many times I need to repeat myself to get you to understand –

WITNESS: Well I dunno how many times I need to tell you that you're jus wastin your time with all this bullshittery. Wastin my time, to be more exact.

P.I.: Sir.

WITNESS: I keep tellin you over and over again that I ain't got nothin to do with it.

SECONDARY INVESTIGATOR (S.I.): Well hold on a second here. That isn't why we're here.

P.I.: We aren't talking about what happened that night.

WITNESS: Maybe not now! But that's what you're tryin to get at. You think I was born yesterday? (rustling)

P.I.: I... (sighs) I understand your concern. But sir, please –

WITNESS: Nah. (spits) Don't give me that with your yes please's and no thank you's. Fuck that. You jus... You jus wanna trip me up, that's all there is to it. Talk me into someone else's mess. (mumbling) I know how you mongrels operate. Yeah, shake your head all you'd like – you can keep goin in circles, round and round, but I ain't ever changin my story. No sir.

S.I.: (papers shuffling)

P.I.: We... (sighs; speaking slowly) We aren't looking for you to change your story, [REDACTED]-san. For anyone to. That's the last thing we want.

WITNESS: Hah!

P.I.: We just want to get a couple things straight from our last meeting.

WITNESS: Well I don't even get what there is to clarify! Fuckin hell, I barely knew that guy! (rustling) Not to mention the lady – never seen a trace of her around in the days leading up to it, that's for certain! (chair creaking) And...– And I promise you. When it comes to that night, I wasn't there for none of that. Had nothin to do with it.

P.I.: We know.

WITNESS: Yeah, exactly. You know it your own self. I got a rock solid alibi. (chair creaking) You talk to Howey. You talk to Miles, you talk to Juniper – they'll all tell you the same damn story!

P.I.: [REDACTED]-san. Just listen for a second. We... – (chuckles) We aren't asking about that night because we know you weren't involved. We just need you to verify a few details of your last encounter with the Lieutenant Commander. (chair creaking) Because we now know for sure – no, wait a second – we know you went over there several times in the weeks leading up to it. We know that. There are several people who say you'd been hanging around the area.

S.I.: Yes. Multiple eyewitnesses.

WITNESS: (silence; chair creaking)

WITNESS: Yeah, and so what. (rustling) I ain't contestin none of that. It's my job. I was upfront about it in the first interview, weren't I?

P.I.: (sighs) For the last one, you mean. Yes.

WITNESS: (silence)

WITNESS: And?

P.I.: So when it comes to all those other times before it... (pages turning) Am I correct in assuming it was for the same reason?

WITNESS: Just about. (gruff) It was business, s'all it was.

P.I.: Right. Business. (pen scribbling) So you were going over there to... to appraise some of his personal belongings, essentially. To purchase.

WITNESS: Not purchase. Pawn. (creaking) But like I said, business. Nothin personal or none of that. I ain't his buddy nor was I lookin to be.

P.I.: And the Lieutenant Commander–... Jasha, he was alone all those times?

WITNESS: Up until the last time. (chair creaking) Never seen the woman around most the time. Hell, I didn't even know he had a woman til then.

S.I.: And this last encounter... it was... what, about a month leading up to the murder, you'd estimate?

WITNESS: Month, month and a half. I dunno. You studied this more than me.

S.I.: Okay. Because that's what you indicated last time. (flips page) What we were curious about is... Well, you were a little vague about what led up to their argument.

WITNESS: Uh-huh. (coughs; spits) I told you all I knew at the time.

S.I.: Well –

WITNESS: I didn't know none of what was goin on with them. Didn't care to then, don't care to now.

P.I.: To start, was she there from the beginning?

WITNESS: Nope. He told me to stop by cause he had a few more pieces he was lookin to pledge, and I went over there around... three, three thirty I think? (pause; rustling) Cause he said he'd be in.

S.I.: So to be clear, it was just you and him initially.

WITNESS: Just me and him. An like I said before... you coulda told me he lived there alone from all them other times and I'd have believed it.

P.I.: What was it he wanted to pawn off again?

WITNESS: Just a few things. He had this watch from his old man... that was the main thing he wanted off his hands. It was this real fancy piece – made with real Alabastan gold by my estimate. (pause) Other than that... I dunno. Maps, Log Poses, a revolver, ammo, and some military patches. (pause) Oh, and some old jewelry, too.

P.I.: When did she come in?

WITNESS: Towards the end. We'd just got round finishing up with the pledges. Got everything all laid out, and I'd gotten him his money and was about to wrap up his stuff. She came in, saw what we were doing and... (shrugs) I dunno. Just flew off the handle.

S.I.: How so?

WITNESS: I mean. Like I said, I don't know none of their business, so –

S.I.: Well what sorts of things was she saying?

WITNESS: Oh, I dunno. 'What are you doing?'... 'How could you?'... That sorta shit. Half crying throughout it all.

P.I.: Crying?

WITNESS: Yeah. Lemme tell you, she was real frantic. Got up in my face even though I got nothin to do with it. Just rushed over, grabbin at all the shit he'd pledged, knockin the berri notes off the table. (chair creaking) It pissed me right off and I mighta done something, push her away at the very least. But thankfully he come in before I could. Tore her away right off the bat.

P.I.: Did he hit her?

WITNESS: Nah. Just held her from behind. Telling her to stop. And of course she wasn't listenin.

WITNESS: There was one pledge she managed to get her claws around, that she wouldn't let go of no matter what. This necklace. Silver, I think. Just a cheap old trinket by my estimation. (pause) I figured maybe it used to belong to her, and that was why she was so upset.

P.I.: What did the Lieutenant Commander do?

WITNESS: Nothing, really. She eventually tore away from him and flew off without saying another word. Pretty sure she was crying when she left.

S.I.: With the necklace?

WITNESS: Yeah. (chair creaking) With the necklace. I woulda gone after her for it, but he stopped me. Said it wasn't worth the hassle and that he'd pay back the money for that pledge. Figured that was fair and square so I just left things at that.

P.I.: What was his demeanor at that point?

WITNESS: Pretty shaken up I reckon. All pale and quiet. Real apologetic too.

P.I.: I'd imagine. Did he ever say or do anything that struck you as unusual?

WITNESS: Nope. (silence) And even if he did, how would I know? I meant exactly what I said before. I barely knew the guy.

END OF EXCERPT

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Haimushi had no way of knowing what sort of nonsense Mukade had gotten into to cause such a ruckus from the shore, but for once he wasn't complaining. If anything, the commotion was working to his advantage inasmuch as it served as ample distraction to the two bothersome maggots who'd been dispatched to take his head.

The Kyōgui wasn't delusional. With his presence exposed to the Uzuki, he'd understood it would only be a matter of time before he was cornered for good. Still, he would have liked to have taken care of Megitsune by then – secure the fate she deserved before his own would hang in the balance. But that slippery bitch seemed to have bet all her odds on evasion rather than confrontation.

Maybe that meant she was also going after Mukade. A laughable proposition on its face, considering the physical state she was in when she'd fled Haimushi, unless she was only planning on going as far as to expose his Kyōki signature. Which would imply more concerningly that she was relying on the Amenoka-ji Uzuki to take both her accomplices out...

The why behind this all was still a mystery, and one Haimushi couldn't afford to dwell on in the present. Not while being hounded by these miscreants, at least. And it wasn't as if he could assume that they would constitute the whole of his ordeal. Once they were down, there would be plenty more to take their place.

Ah... but what the hell am I even saying? Haimushi gritted his teeth. Don't be pessimistic if you can help yourself. It'll only make things worse!

Deterrence is my best bet.

He still needed some time to recoup from Megitsune's attack – this was the most he could do to avoid being overwhelmed by numbers, as annoying as it was to have to consciously exert his manipulations over such a wide radius.

And by all appearances, his efforts were paying off, given the absence of any more reinforcements from the Uzuki side. So at least something was going his way out of all of this...

Perched high up in a tree, Haimushi scoffed bitterly as he assessed the scene before him with one gaunt hand still pressed below his ribs. Though he had long internalized the throbbing ache of the wound his dear colleague had left behind, the taste of old blood still soured at the roof of his mouth. He shifted his weight with another grimace, the thin branch curving and digging into the sandaled arches of his long, thin feet.

"Please..." a stricken voice called out from the clearing below, sounding more like a defeated whimper. "I can't take this anymore...!"

"It hurts..."

"Kijibato-dono! Kamome-dono! We're begging you, just let it up!"

"It's too late for us! Kill us already!"

The corners of Haimushi's gore-stained lips lifted ever so slightly. Usually, free vocalizations from his precious surrogates annoyed him to no end because that was a sure sign that their Haki was strong enough to resist his infestation. Retain a fragment of their free will. But that came in handy in rare cases like this.

A sympathetic subject always made for an ideal shield.

Out of the company of villagers he had infected to puppeteer as agents in Hachinobe Tatsusada's murder plot, only a small handful had managed to survive the ensuing chaos. Plenty enough for Haimushi's purposes. The original plan had been to consume them while he waited for Mukade to finish his work – hell, he was even planning on sharing with 'Ito-chan' as a reward for a job well done – but now that had clearly gone out the window with her latest betrayal. He still had to set aside one or two to replenish himself to a halfway decent state after the attack nonetheless, which was a shame. Haimushi had been hoping the maid from earlier would have been enough to keep him going for the time being... but of course, no such luck; she had been dead for too long. (Not to mention disgusting to the taste. Pretty thing, though. What a waste.)

In the end, that emergency rationing left him with four living surrogates. So far, Haimushi was quite surprised (and pleased) to see that they had lasted as long as they did. Though maybe that was more due to the so-called mercies of his pursuers than any extra effort on his end.

"No... Damn it!"

The Mink hunter had launched herself into the air for the umpteenth time (and what a fool she was, to repeat the same mistake!), one Armament-coated leg primed to strike. Haimushi didn't need to lift a finger; the surrogate that came whizzing into her path forced her to redirect the kick in the nick of time, the blow toppling several trees.

The Mink's eyes blazed as she landed.

"You coward –!" she cut off abruptly, forced to wheel back as the villager lunged in with inhuman speed, lashing out with the knife in his hand. "Gah! No, wait –!"

The villager's face was ashen, frame trembling with with exertion and bloodshot eyes wretched wide open in fear. He was on the younger side of the entire lot – a hired hand Haimushi had snagged from one of the larger farms in the outskirts of the fiefdom. Unassuming by all appearances, but apparently possessing more will than expected to still be coherent this late in the game.

Not that it mattered now, when everything else had been so thoroughly stripped away.

"It's too late..." the man gritted out, voice gurgling past a mouthful of foul, blackened blood. "Kill us already!"

"No way! You need to hang on!" the weasel shouted back, nimbly dodging the blows. She met Haimushi's gaze and glowered. "Let them go, you-teia piece of shit!"

Haimushi merely flexed his fingers as he waited.

The Mink let loose another cry of frustration as she was forced to redirect another lunge from the Kyōgui.

"Just wait till I get my hands on you-teia, bastard –!"

At the other end of the clearing, her partner – the blue-headed fellow, Kurowashi's apprentice – was similarly preoccupied with trying to get through three additional surrogates without harming them.

"Keep it together, Kamome!" he snapped. "Don't be reckless! Focus on immobilizing them first –!"

"I know, I know! It's just..." Another dodge. "Too fast...–! Damn it, they'll die of exhaustion if he keeps it up at this rate!"

Haimushi only scoffed. Inwardly, he was starting to get a little concerned over how long it was taking for either of his opponents to unmask their spectral abilities. Winning the waiting game was his best shot at survival – to get them to unleash and deplete their trump cards early on. He was especially keen on the Mink giving in, as her yōkai abilities were already previously documented to be time-sensitive. The sooner he got her out of the way, the better.

But so far, neither of them had taken the bait.

What a bother.

Do I really need to move things along myself?

He directed his empty stare towards the surrogate stalling the Mink.

"He's right, you know. It is too late for them."

"Hah?" The ermine's expression went rigid. Despite all her vocalizations, she clearly hadn't anticipated him engaging.

Haimushi leant his face into the heel of his palm and let loose a chuckle.

"In fact, it'd be more accurate to say that the they you so desperately to save... no longer exist. Not in any meaningful sense."

"That's... that's a lie! I know how this works, you... –!" She was cut off mid-sentence, backtracking hastily once more as the surrogate materialized to deliver another blow, this time joined by another who'd broken away from the other group.

"Where do you think they source their speed and strength?" Haimushi asked, smiling. He snapped a twig off the branch with his free hand, turning it over multiple times in his grip. "Are you really foolish enough to believe that any semblance of their past selves remains?"

That pale, spider like hand moved in a blur. The Mink's head snapped sideways as the surrogate staggered back, choking; the broken sprig had pierced his neck before anyone could react. The wound quickly overflowed, but with what initially appeared to be a cloudy viscous fluid rather than blood.

Though looking closer, it would become apparent to anyone that said "fluid" was in fact made up of a living swarm.

The Mink's eyes had opened wide with shock.

Are you scared now, you babbling furscrap?

"All this pitiful bleating you hear now... Consider them as witless as death rattles. By this point, most of his cells have been replaced with the equivalent of my own. That is to say..." Haimushi peeled back a bandage strip from his forearm with a giggle. His eyes gleamed with pride as he revealed the bed of pale, tubular flesh which writhed beneath.

"...maggots."

This time, the Mink came dangerously close to striking before Haimushi could react via the half-dead surrogate. He actually had to hop to a different branch!

Good, good. Just keep on pushing.

"It's futile to think you can save them, because you can't," the Kyōgui went on in a crawling tone. "Soon enough, they will all be reduced to hollow husks – mere extensions of this sentient swarm that is my body. Their thoughts, desires... dreams, impulses... all of it will become my own as my will slowly engulfs theirs. And still, you do nothing but try... How miserable!

"Ue-sama chose me for a reason. Not a single soul who has fallen victim to my infestation has lived to tell the tale!"

Despite the situation, Haimushi spoke with genuine pride. It was true. No matter how slippery or underhanded his base powerset was proclaimed to be by even several of his own peers, he was truly convinced that the mastery of his skillset represented the pinnacle of ingenuity when it came to Kyōki-based combat.

Traditionally speaking, haimushi were considered the most measly and ineffectual of malevolent yōkai. These worms were microscopic in size, after all – so small that the potency of one in isolation was close to negligible. They operated in colonies, burrowing deep in the lungs of their hosts and causing various maladies over the course of their collective lifespan, meaning that their largest victim demographic – what, sickly children and grannies? – was really nothing to boast about. There was no surprise thas to why most Kyōgui snubbed them as a source of sustenance for the longest time, instead opting to hone abilities associated with known powerhouses like kitsune, tengu, and kappa.

It wasn't until the last hundred years or so that a few adventurous Kodera Ikki operatives discovered the species' true terrifying potential. By constantly consuming Kyōki from other yōkai, a Kyōgui could develop techniques that were sufficiently robust against weaknesses typical to the haimushi's base powerset.

Now, as the Kodera Ikki's most dedicated practitioner when it came to this yōkai, Haimushi was more than willing to show them the caliber of what they were going up against.

"Doesn't surprise me in the slightest that neither of you have managed to touch me so far," he crowed, giggling in anticipation. "It must be exhausting, right? Do you feel it yet?"

The Mink growled in frustration and Kijibato's eyes flickered dangerously, but they were still clearly refusing to engage.

"You may have trained your Haki to be more robust than theirs, but that means nothing in the grand scheme of things. And with how long you've spent in my vicinity... you won't be able to resist the infection forever, either! It's only a matter of time before you end up as mindless and pliable as them..."

The ground shook from another faraway explosion. Haimushi's gaunt fingers curled inwards again.

Ah. Damn you, Mukade. Always getting so carried away –

Then an idea struck.

"Wonder what's going on out there," he sneered. "I did tell my associate to lay low but... Please excuse his rudeness, he's a bit of an impulsive brute. But who knows? Maybe he's encountered a few of your friends and just couldn't help himself..."

That obviously struck a chord with them both. The instructor was more guarded, but the terror that sprang up in the Mink's eyes couldn't be any more blatant.

"Well, it really can't be helped. I do hope he leaves a survivor or two for me to test my latest pet maggots on –"

"Tsukinowa Kick!"

This time, Haimushi didn't bother to interfere with any of his surrogates. He alighted noiselessly at a safe distance from the wide, steaming depression left carved into the earth from the blow, littered with scattered trees and boulder fragments.

Ah-ha-ha. How cute! Look who's finally decided to bare her fangs...

"Riyu –!" Tatsuhito hissed in warning as the Mink slowly stepped out from the wreckage.

"You handle the guys, Ta-chan," Riyu snarled back, fists clenched tight. "I can't stand this anymore... I'm gonna wring his neck!"

Haimushi giggled as her eyes began to glow unnaturally. He extended a hand outwards, the pale flesh on his forearm rippling and one pointed finger crooking inwards as a familiar swarming sensation bubbled forth from his chest cavity.

So finally, it was time to play.

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Some time prior

Polar Tang

Operating Room #1

 The needle forceps clattered to the tray.

"Scissors," Law muttered over to Azarashi as he finished tying the ligature. Taking the proffered instrument, he cut off the excess length of thread.

"Bronchial anastomosis complete. Next is the PA – we'll start with the lower posterior wall on the left side. One of you pull up the graft."

With the way that the pulmonary artery was positioned behind the bronchus, retracting the implanted lung in the medial direction was necessary for proper access to perform anastomosis.

Tsubu relented with a nod and reached into the chest opening to push the graft aside.

"6-0 thread."

"Yes, Captain."

The instruments moved in a dance of mechanical precision, the thread shining dully beneath the harsh surgical light. With each swift pull and loop of the needle, the seam separating the severed artery walls closed further and further with dizzying rapidity, leaving behind a neat row of sutures in its wake.

Shiro swallowed dryly as he watched. The thought that had occurred to him multiple times already resurfaced once more:

He's just... fast.

Way too fast.

It's almost as if –

The tiny hooked needle hovered in place over the divided artery segments for a moment, before darting in seamlessly to begin the next suture.

"Hakugan." Law spoke casually as he worked, though there was a certain tinge of rumination to his voice, as if he were actively weighing his options.

The eyestalks on the wall Transponder Snail swiveled to attention.

"Ah...yes, Captain?"

Law drew the needle forceps upwards, the thread winking in the light.

"I want you to direct the sub to the shore." The eyes visible above the mask remained as placid as ever. "Prepare to surface on my command."

"What?" Koshi half rose from his seat.

Surface?! Shiro gaped with his colleagues. Right now? In the middle of surgery?

"Captain, that's...!" Even Azarashi looked unnerved.

Law finished the first line of sutures. He continued to speak in a matter-of-fact tone, gloved hands moving in a blur as he secured the knot and snipped the thread.

"It's to save time. We're almost done here anyways."

"What do you mean, we're almost done?" Tsubu snapped, finally recovering his wits enough to lash back. He nodded down at the opening. "We still gotta do the anterior wall... not to mention the pulmonary venous anastomosis!"

"I know that." Law paused and glanced around at the trio, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Don't worry. I can pick up the pace."

"Pick up the...? Oi, now you're just..!" Tsubu shook his head. "Quit screwing around! Don't you think you were already pushing your luck?"

"...what?"

"You've rushed us through the procedure at breakneck speed from the very start! Don't get all high and mighty, thinking you're immune to making mistakes!" Tsubu pointed with his free hand. "Go any faster, and surely it'll be dangerous for Waka-sama!"

Shiro began to nod in agreement, but was drawn up short when he caught the look on Law's face. And for once, it wasn't because of intimidation.

For the first time ever, it was the Surgeon of Death who looked positively confounded.

"...I was?"

Azarashi sweatdropped. Tsubu stopped mid-harangue, his face going completely blank for a moment.

"What?"

"Going too fast for you. Was I, really?"

Are you... kidding me?

Koshi's jaw dropped, and Tsubu reared back as if he'd been slapped in the face. Shiro shifted his weight, feeling a trickle of cold sweat on his brow as his two friends aptly put his thoughts into words.

"How have you not noticed this entire time?!" they snapped in unison.

"This is the normal pace for my team, if not a little on the slower side." Law looked around slowly, tilting his head slightly in appreciation, as if to finally connect the dots. "I guess they must have gotten used to it over the years..."

And that really was the final straw. Shiro almost fell to his knees right then and there.

Normal, he says... normal?! So casually, too! This is NORMAL for you? When even Tsubu the Blitz was struggling to keep up? What the hell?

This... this isn't normal! It CAN'T be! And the fact that he isn't even using his Devil Fruit abilities... How can this be possible?!

Seriously, what sort of deal with the devil did he make to inherit such terrifying talent with the scalpel?

Is he blessed? Cursed? Should I be scared? Hide myself? Run away...?

Or... could it be that he's just that dedicated to the craft? If that's the case, then how many hundreds of hours must he have spent practicing his technique to reach such a pinnacle of speed and accuracy? More terrifyingly yet... what does that say about the rest of us and the state of the current medical profession, to fall short of a ceiling that we couldn't even begin to fathom was so high? Is it even humanly possible to measure up to such a potential?

But it must be – it must! – because he is human like the rest of us! And to compete against that very reality is what is so frightening to me now –

Ah... Waka-sama. Mototatsu-sama. Dr. Yotsuji and the three of us, we've failed you both as doctors. Truly, how mediocre, how pathetic –!

Seriously, what am I even doing here...?!

Another rumble from outside was what finally snapped Shiro out of his internal spiral. This time, the spell was prolonged – so violent that Tsubu nearly stumbled and Azarashi had to grab the instrument cart to keep it in place.

A flicker of impatience crossed the surgeon's face.

"Do you hear what's going on out there? We don't have the luxury to wait around!" He raised his voice. "Hakugan, did you hear me?"

"Aye, aye, Captain!" the helmsman's voice crackled over the line.

Law turned to the Navy doctors.

"I'll finish up here, then you two can handle hemostasis. Azarashi, hand me the vascular clamp –"

"No, wait! Are you crazy?" Tsubu sputtered. "I'm telling you, Trafalgar! If this stunt is what causes you to slip up–"

"Surgeon's orders." Law silenced him with a piercing glare, his voice steeling over with urgency. "I don't make mistakes, Chibi-ya."

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Himuro Kōyō could run like the proverbial wind.

One could even say he'd been running his entire life – from that demon spawn of a mutt that kept getting loose in his old childhood neighborhood, from the rumors about his family's loyalty to the Uzuki, from all sorts of sleazy pirates who saw him as an easy target whenever he had to go abroad, from Hokyū-dono whenever he forgot an important errand or did as much as cough the wrong way in Misokatsu-sama's direction, from his landlord whenever he missed a payment, from Shiorin and all of her hospitality-related antics.....

Really, barring his Observation, if there was one thing Himuro could rely on himself to deliver without fail, it was to run. Run away, if he had a choice in the matter.

Just like now.

Shoving a piece of wooden gate out of the way, Himuro muffled a violent coughing fit into his elbow as he staggered forwards. The surrounding air was thick with clouds of dust, stinging his eyes and stifling his lungs. Around him, the entire landscape had been reduced to rubble.

Hearing a distant boom behind him, he wheeled around in time to see a plume of impacting energy rise from deep within the trees as Mukade's warped silhouette launched itself high up into the air from where Arisa's last strike had sent him flying. The patches of skin visible through the flowing fabric of his garments started to scintillate oddly beneath the sunlight.

Shit. Himuro had seen this move before already.

Ignoring his screaming muscles, he blindly chucked himself to the ground between two mounds of debris, curling up in a tight ball and bracing himself for the worst.

Right in the nick of time. The ground shuddered and groaned as multiple objects hit their mark with near-deafening impact – trees falling, rocks splitting.

But that was far from the end of it. By the time the ringing in Himuro's ears had abated, another thunderous explosion shook the earth.

His heart pounding, Himuro felt his muscles lock into place when he heard the sound of footsteps. Thankfully away from him, though that was of little comfort knowing who it likely was.

He lay stock-still for what felt like another eternity, before cracking his eyes open to thin slits and peering up over a fallen slab.

A near-endless array of glistening black spikes stobbed the entirety of that debris-ridden basin like the barbs of a porcupine. The shafts were long and tapered slightly at the top, seeming to be made of a chitinous material. Each was planted securely into the earth, having pierced through everything that had stood in their way – even layers of solid rock.

Just like last time... it was only due to blind luck that Himuro hadn't fallen in the path of one. If he had, there was no shelter sturdy enough to escape getting impaled.

The Seer gulped, cowering back behind the slab as he watched Mukade's hulking form amble further away – in the direction of where the main square used to reside.

C'mon... Calm down. Himuro tried to steady his breathing and channel his Observation the best he could. Otherwise, there was not a chance in the world he could verify if Arisa and Ito were still alive. Calm down. Calm down. Calm the fuck down...!

Oh, God. Was this really how things would end? He pictured his parents' faces (what little of them he could remember, anyways), then thought back to the day he had been first brought to the shrine. He remembered the icy rainwater leaching through his rags, the disapproving scowl Hokyū-dono had worn as he was brought forward in front of the council... the unnerving incongruence of Uzuki Misokatsu's aloofness with his verdict of mercy.

Himuro's fists tightened.

I'm sorry, my lord.

You put so much faith in me, but I wasn't able to live up to my promises.

And Mirin... Mirin. Just the thought of his beloved pet sent another stab of guilt ripping through his heart. Who would take care of her if he was killed? Could she handle the anguish of being orphaned again...?

The footsteps meandered to a stop. The silence was short lived, to Himuro's horror – soon to be followed by a low rumbling sensation as the long, implanted barbs surrounding them began to quiver and twitch, like magnets straining to re-align.

Himuro gulped.

Oh no. I forgot about this part –

Mukade extended his arms outward in a summoning motion. With a hiss, the so-called barbs shot up out of the ground, momentarily hovering in the air in a spiral, before shooting straight back towards their point of origin, with each one slotting into their respective slots lining the sides of the Kyōgui's body.

Now was his chance. Himuro threw one terrified look over his shoulder, before hurling himself headlong behind another pile of debris further away. His stomach roiling, he fell to his knees, a quivering mess, and nearly emptied his stomach's contents right then and there.

It was so disgusting...! This was only the second time Himuro had seen (not to mention been subject to) that... that... whatever that horrid maneuver was!... and quite frankly, whether it be a result of his mounting fear or revulsion, that was two times too many.

Those barbs... They were legs.

He, Himuro Kōyō, had nearly died from impalation by removable centipede legs... twice!

His throat seized up again. Even thinking about it was too much. Toppling forwards against a fallen pillar, Himuro began to gag into his sleeve again. As pathetic as it was, he almost wanted to cry in frustration.

Please, someone... get me out of here!

I'm done... I'm done! I... I didn't sign up for any of this!

An ominous crunch of gravel caused his heart to leap into his throat. Mukade had perked up and turned.

The footsteps started up again, this time drawing closer and closer...

This is it, then. Himuro shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut. Goodbye, Mirin...

I promise to haunt Hokyū-dono for the rest of his days if he doesn't find you a proper home –

A familiar presence zipped into existence like lightning.

Mukade whirled around, yellow eyes widening almost imperceptibly when Arisa materialized seemingly out of nowhere. Three insectoid legs, blackened with Haki, sprouted from his side to block Kagerō from sinking deep beneath his ribs. Rearing back to avoid a punch to the jaw, she aimed a powerful kick directly into his abdomen, knocking him away with enough force to completely dislodge his grip on the blade.

"There you are! I was just starting to grow lonesome." Mukade rebounded just as she thrust the blade towards his chest, his hand coming out to channel a spherical pulse of external Kyōki – generating enough deflective energy to send her skidding back to an arm's length. "Still playing coy, are we?"

Himuro managed to catch Arisa's eye – just for a fraction of a second before she lunged in to exchange another volley of blows. Breathing hard, he dragged himself up to his feet, watching as the fight extended back to the ruined rooftops once more. The dazed numbness in his chest slowly coalesced into a heavier feeling... One of dread, almost.

Something was very wrong.

He'd had an inkling of it even long before the start of the fight... back when it had just been him and her scouting the shoreline. It wasn't even a matter of his Haki causing him to clue on to any abstract subtleties. No, it was a hundred times more blatant than that.

It was in the way he'd noted the clench in Arisa's jaw, the slight strain in her voice as she'd spoken to her uncle over the Transponder Snail. The subtle winces, the hoarse breathing, the way she'd slow down at unexpected moments, her steps faltering behind him...

Himuro felt his stomach flip.

Is she...

Could she be in pain...?

Two figures, reduced to blurred shadows with their speed, came arcing down from high above, landing atop the ruins of a nearby hut with a deafening crash and kicking up another sizable pillar of dust.

"Shit!"

Himuro scrambled back, nearly losing his balance. His heart plummeted as Mukade's upright profile slowly emerged from the thinning haze. Arisa's body hung limp in the air, her throat tightly enclosed in his Haki-coated grasp. She came to with a choked gurgle, eyes flying open in a panic, both hands scrabbling to detach his fingers.

Himuro's heart plummeted.

Come on, why won't she...?!

The Kyōgui sneered and hurled the hunter across the clearing into another building. Materializing before her out of the plume of smoke, he aimed a vicious kick straight into her sternum before she'd even hit the ground. A sickening crack resounded from the blow, and she slid down with a muted groan.

It's too dangerous to hold out any longer! Himuro longed to scream. Forget about strategizing or gaining an advantage – it's too late at this point! He's gonna kill you!

Use it... Why won't you use it?!

Mukade grabbed a fistful of silver hair and wretched Arisa's head up, slamming the back of her skull into a broken portion of stone wall. She choked out another spray of blood, writhing to free herself, but he planted one hand into her shoulder and slammed her back into place beneath him.

"It's so disappointing, Chidori-chan," Mukade chided in a knowing tone. "Last time, you never never even got close using your spectral abilities... and where's the fun in that? I really hoped things would have ended differently this time around."

One long black barb unfurled from the upper scaled segment of the half-transfigured yōkai's left side. The sharp, glistening end hovered precariously over her face, just beneath her left eye.

"I've always wondered if they ever teach you brats how we feed," Mukade said, smiling. "I'm sure they sugarcoat it, else you'd run screaming..."

Arisa's head tipped back limply. Her gaze drifted past him to focus on Himuro again, just momentarily.

"It's... Ito... right?" she wheezed out, voice ringing loud and clear. "...I get it now. She's with you."

Mukade's back tensed, alarm seeping into his aura like blood spreading in water.

...Ito? Himuro squinted. What is she...?

"She's... with you," Arisa repeated with a harsh burst of laughter. "You were perfectly hidden up to that point... but you felt obligated to protect her, right? You saw her... holding the knife... and thought I was about to attack her."

Again, just barely perceptibly, her eyes flickered to meet Himuro's. He immediately understood. Of course the mockery was just a front – she was indirectly relaying her suspicions to him before it was too late.

"So now you'll kill me... and for what?" Arisa's voice swelled with contempt. She grinned, flashing a set of glistening ruby teeth. "You fool. You blew your cover... exposed your accomplice... all over a stupid misunderstanding –"

The barb came plunging downwards, earning an awful scream as the sharp tip drove deep below her collarbone. Mukade hummed and jammed a knee into Arisa's ribcage to cut off her voice. He was smiling again, though the subtle twitch in his facial muscles betrayed just how nettled he'd grown.

"Now, now. Is that really the attitude to show the one with the upper hand?" He deliberately leaned in, ignoring her choked gasp as he pressed down with his weight and twisted the appendage out with a small splatter of blood. "Especially when I was playing so nice this far..."

Arisa spat in his face and kicked from underneath when he flinched away, unbalancing him. She twisted free from beneath him, just barely making it back up to her feet before Mukade had rebounded and come lunging in again like a deflected bullet. His flesh hand came arcing down for her shoulder but she ducked and spun away from the grab, landing a square punch across her opponent's jaw with Haki-coated knuckles before he could pin her again.

The impact was dense, creating a small pulse of energy – Himuro surmised she must have harnessed some extrinsic Kyōki in the blow – but Mukade only reeled back slightly with a small grunt. This time, Arisa wasn't quite fast enough to evade him; his retaliatory kick sent her flying unceremoniously into the ruins of another building.

Damn it, this is bad. Himuro gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand on wobbly feet. I need to find her katana... figure out a way to get it back to her before it's too late. Otherwise she has no chance.

Forcing down another rise of panic, he activated his Observation. It was always trickier to detect weapons, even with named blades like Kagerō, but it was still worth a shot.

Of course, it didn't help that someone with a highly aberrant Kyōki signature was hanging around the island coastline, which really fucked up the baseline Kyōki interactions, but –

But wait.

Himuro blinked.

Speaking of which.

It was just like what had happened this morning... but now the direct opposite.

Trafalgar Law was currently on his submarine, in the middle of surgery. Close enough to be in detectable range... but still. Shouldn't his Kyōki signature be much weaker than how it was registering now?

Could that possibly mean... –?

A veil of pale blue light washed over the ruined landscape.

No... Himuro's blood ran cold. Oh, God. Please, no –

──────────────────

"...what are you wearing?" Arisa heard herself mumble numbly over the ringing in her ears.

Now, those weren't the first words she'd expected out of her mouth upon an untimely reunion with an ally... but she wasn't really in the position to be self-critical at this point, when it was fair to say that all remaining notions of propriety (and coherence) had been beaten out of her so thoroughly.

Truth be told, she was so out of it by now that she couldn't even be sure if what she was seeing was entirely real. In fact, maybe the pain had gotten so bad she was starting to hallucinate. Maybe she had already lost; maybe Mukade had just dealt the final blow. Maybe she was currently at death's door, and this bizarre apparition was the result of a dying brain's machinations – that is, a mere fluke her mind had managed to conjure in its last moments before she passed on to the great unknown.

If that was what truly was happening – and the surreality of the situation really did make quite the convincing case for it – then Arisa didn't know what it said about her as a person, to be distracted by the visual of Trafalgar Law in surgical scrubs in her final moments when she had countless other life reflections to mull over.

Hence the question. And confusion.

Law – or this fever dream version of him, anyhow – glanced downwards, blinking as if to notice his unconventional state of dress for the first time.

"Oh, this? I didn't have time to change."

"You... Huh...?" Arisa was still at a loss for words. How strange. He was making an awful lot of sense for a premortem hallucination. Not to mention, there was a lot of attention to detail which as far as she knew was quite accurate to his character.

Surgical scrubs... Black, because of course. Even has the Heart Pirates' logo sewn to the sleeve, like they're an official clinic or something...

Well it looks professional. I respect it.

Also... Her gaze drifted downwards to his feet. ...rubber clogs?

I didn't know I'd learned so much about surgical wear in my lifetime, but here we are –

"Did he get you in the head?" Fever Dream Law asked, unsheathing his nodachi.

"What?"

"Your head. You might have gotten a concussion."

"...I don't think–"

A rush of cool air registered before the sound of the explosion. Arisa flinched from the proximity, swaying to catch her balance, before it finally dawned over her that her surroundings had completely shifted. She had been teleported away at Fever Dream Law's command – right in time to avoid Mukade's latest attack.

Fever Dream Law scowled, keeping his Room maintained as the Kyōgui's silhouette materialized from the settling smoke.

Mukade didn't seemed peeved in the slightest by this latest development – in fact, he looked anything but.

"Finally showing your face, Surgeon of Death?" he cooed, cracking his knuckles. "Took you long enough."

Arisa felt something touch her upper arm. Turning, she realized that Fever Dream Law had grabbed her with his free hand to steady her from stumbling again. Well that was considerate of him. Probably an improvement over the real thing, if she were to be blunt...

"I was in the middle of surgery," Fever Dream Law was saying nonchalantly. "Don't ruin my good mood."

Surgery...

Arisa blinked and looked at the two men repeatedly.

Huh. Wait.

If Mukade was addressing Fever Dream Law, then...

He's real? All of this is real?

Wait, does that mean I'm still alive?

The realization – and its accompanying implication – was so disorienting that it felt like being doused head-to-toe in an ice water bath.

Her face paling, Arisa whirled upon Fever Dre– no, Law. This was bad. Very bad, and the worst part of it was that she had no way of expressing so to the surgeon explicitly, not with Mukade being right there. She still didn't have a clue as to why Mukade's Observation seemed so stunted, but if he were to clue on to Law's strange Kyōki signature, it didn't take a genius to figure out how his priorities might shift in terms of target selection.

Forget about the Kaku Kaku no Mi. If one of the relics of Yatagarasu were to fall to the Kodera Ikki...! Arisa didn't even want to fathom the fallout.

Of course, she could say none of that out loud right now. And as panicked and flustered as she was, what she did end up spouting amounted to be the result of pure gut instinct. Which warranted covering some very familiar territory, in case it wasn't clear enough.

"W-why the hell are you here...? And what are you wearing?"

Translation(s):

- Tengu (天狗): Famous yōkai; literal translation is "heavenly dog." They can be depicted as protective deities of mountains/forests/nature. They usually take the form of anthropomorphized birds / priests.

- Kappa (河童): Along with tengu, one of the most famous mythological beings in Japanese folklore. They're like... frog people? Or maybe turtles. Green, humanoid, with webbed fingers. Likes to eat cucumbers and has this plate thing on its head.

- Mirin (味醂): Sweet rice wine

Other notes:

...you don't know how challenging it has been to write the medical scenes without the specific irl descriptors lol. "Satinsky" or "DeBakey"? ...nope, just call em "forceps." Even the "scissors"...I had to bite my tongue to refrain from calling it "Metze" lol (tho this is prbly only accurate in Jdrama land btw xD).... Because again, no Dr. Myron Metzenbaum in One Piece (the name is oddly fitting though!)

Expanding on this a bit, there probably would be a few instruments/techniques named after Vegapunk or Hogback considering how prolific they are in-universe, and I did consider putting that in... but it just came off sounding so confusing, esp considering that the terms would be shortened/abbreviated when used amongst professionals. So I gave up and stuck with the generic descriptors, even if it did make me cringe a bit.

And yes, I did keep the thread sizing standards because it hurt my soul too much to write just generic "thread" instead of "6-0." Sue me.

Now Oda does take a lot of inspiration from irl stuff when naming moves and stuff ("Gomu Gomu no Gatling" etc.) seemingly without much regard to worldbuilding implications (emphasis on "seemingly"... please don't come for me theorists-) so maybe I'm just overthinking things.

Thanks for reading & see you next chapter!

-shiba