The Holy Land of Mary Geoise was still in chaos.
Explosions thundered from the southeastern corner, where Fisher Tiger had blown apart an entire section of the compound. Flas licked at the night sky, and the shrill whistles of guards echoed through the air. Tiger had done his part perfectly, creating the diversion Ritter needed.
Yet the threat was far from gone. CP agents those shadowy watchdogs of the World Governnt still combed the inner corridors. Their boots clattered like a predator's claws against the stone, thodical and rciless.
But Ritter was already among them.
A pale fog crept silently through the marble hallways, so faint it seed like no more than the night's mist. Within it, Ritter's form lted in and out of shadow, ghostly and elusive. The mist wasn't rely cover it was his domain. With it, he could sense movent, heartbeats, the sharp tremor of fear. He was hunting.
And his quarry tonight wasn't treasure, nor battle glory, but children.
Deep within the western slave dungeons, a girl no older than twelve dragged her sisters through a corridor that slled of rust and despair. Boa Hancock's hands were raw from pulling the iron chains still clamped to her wrists, but she refused to let go of Sandersonia and Marigold.
"Don't stop, keep running!" Hancock's voice trembled with urgency, though her knees nearly buckled beneath her.
"Big sis… I-I'm scared…" Marigold sobbed, tears streaking down her dirt-smudged face.
"Don't be afraid!" Hancock bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, eyes burning with a fragile defiance. "If we don't run now, we may never get another chance!"
But fate, cruel as it was, had other plans.
"Well, well. What do we have here?"
The chilling voice slithered from the corridor ahead. From the shadows stepped three CP agents in black suits, their faces hidden behind porcelain masks. The one in the lead flexed his hand, and jet-black Armant Haki crawled up his fingers like living ink.
"Three runaway slaves." His tone was as casual as if he were comnting on the weather. "What a pity. The Celestial Dragons did say we can kill the worthless ones."
The sisters froze. Hancock's chest seized in terror, but she spread her arms wide, shielding her siblings with her small body. She was trembling violently, yet her gaze never left the masked man.
"Sandersonia, Marigold… listen to ," she whispered urgently. "If I fight them, you run. Don't look back."
"B-but !"
"Do as I say!" Hancock shouted, snatching up a loose iron chain from the ground. With a desperate cry, she charged forward.
"Pathetic."
The lead agent swiped lazily with his Haki-coated hand. A force like a hamr slamd into Hancock's chest. She flew back and struck the stone wall with a sickening crack. Blood trickled down her chin.
"Big sister!!" the two girls scread, racing toward her crumpled form.
The agent advanced, every step echoing with dreadful finality. He raised his fist, Haki gleaming darkly.
"Die."
But then
"Oi. Trash."
The voice was so low, so cold, it seed to seep directly into the CP agent's skull. His body went rigid. He turned instinctively, but too late.
A hand, wreathed in flickering red-black lightning, clamped down on his neck.
"Who gave you permission to touch them?"
With a single motion, Ritter slamd the agent's head into the ground. The impact exploded like thunder. Stone shattered, dust billowed, and cracks spread across the floor like spiderwebs.
The other two CP agents froze in shock. Training kicked in they leapt forward, weapons drawn. But Ritter didn't even bother to face them.
"Fog God Style Blood Bind."
Scarlet mist surged up their bodies like living chains, constricting arms and legs in an instant. Ritter flicked his fingers.
Crack.
Both n collapsed bonelessly, their necks snapped before they even realized what happened.
The dungeon fell silent.
Boa Hancock stared, stunned speechless. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, mind unable to comprehend the overwhelming strength she had just witnessed. CP agents were monsters in her world untouchable executioners. Yet this man had destroyed three of them as if swatting flies.
Ritter shook the blood from his hand, the mist dissipating into the air. He turned toward the sisters, lips curling into a grin.
"Well now. You girls alright?"
Sothing in his tone was casual, almost teasing, as if they hadn't just brushed against death.
Hancock opened her mouth, but no sound ca out. Her young world had no place for soone like him soone who stood above monsters.
It was Sandersonia, trembling, who found her voice first. "W-who are you?"
Ritter crouched down, eting their wide eyes. His palm glowed faintly as blood-mist nded the cut at Hancock's lip, soothing away the pain.
"? Just a friend of your big sister Shakky." His smile was roguish, sharp enough to be both comforting and dangerous.
He gathered the three girls in a swirl of fog, lifting them off the ground as if carried by invisible hands. Around him, the mist thickened, blanketing the battlefield.
As Ritter walked, it was like the world itself bent around him. Screams, gunfire, and clashing steel echoed through Mary Geoise, but within his mist it all felt far away, irrelevant. Even the keenest eyes of his enemies slid past without registering his presence.
Behind him floated several treasure chests, filled with Devil Fruits pilfered from Celestial Dragon estates. Ritter chuckled softly. Gold he didn't need. Wealth bored him. These fruits, though he'd hand them off to Tesoro later. Let him deal with the ss. Ritter hated bookkeeping.
"B-big brother…" Hancock's small hand clutched at his coat, voice shaking. "Won't they… find us?"
Ritter tilted his head, amused. "Find you? Heh. They can't even see you."
As if on cue, a CP0 agent dashed into their path. He was a Devil Fruit user the Finder-Finder Fruit, trained to sense life and presence. His Observation Haki scread at him, warning of danger. Yet when he looked into the fog, he saw nothing at all.
"Strange… I swear I "
Shhhk.
The man's body suddenly convulsed. A faint gesture from Ritter, and the CP0's form unraveled into blood and mist, collapsing into nothing.
Hancock gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth.
"Shh." Ritter tapped her forehead lightly with his finger. "That's what happens to bad n. Don't waste fear on them."
The sisters shrank closer to him, torn between terror and the strange comfort his presence gave.
Further ahead, the battle raged. Fisher Tiger roared as he hurled a CP0 agent through a wall, Fishman Karate sending shockwaves that split stone. Ritter's voice drifted to him through the mist.
"Tiger! Don't drag it out. I'm leaving."
Tiger glanced back, grinning even as blood ran down his arm. "Then take the kids and go! I'll hold them here a little longer!"
Ritter sighed, shaking his head. "Damn fool, playing the hero." But his feet never slowed. He wouldn't stay. He never did.
He passed by another skirmish: a Marine officer dueling a pirate who boasted, "I slaughtered three villages, don't stand in my way!"
Ritter snapped his fingers.
Both froze. Veins bulged, blood-red lines tracing across their skin before they collapsed lifelessly. Ritter didn't even glance at them.
Hancock's heart pounded in her chest. So strong… so effortless.
Never had she seen such killing silent, precise, without anger, as if death itself obeyed this man. He walked like a nobleman strolling through a garden, and everywhere he passed, enemies fell into pools of blood.
It was terrifying. And yet… she couldn't look away.
Ritter, of course, wasn't thinking about any of that. He was simply indulging himself, letting the blood sing in his veins. To him, this wasn't heroism. It was style.
And while the mist carried Hancock and her sisters toward freedom, another figure erged from the chaos Ginny, staggering into the moonlight, breath ragged, searching desperately for the man she knew would always be ahead of her.
On the dock, beneath the silver glow of the coated ship, Ritter stood waiting, golden hair catching the light.
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