Kill Them
There was a slave arena in the residential district of Mary Geoise, a place for the Celestial Dragons' amusement.
"Saint Jalmack's Son threw his female slaves into the arena?" The Gorosei were quite surprised when they received the report.
"Yes, and their record has been excellent," the agent reported.
"Heh heh, always playing around." The Gorosei smiled faintly.
The Gorgon Sisters was the Boa Sisters' arena alias.
When that name first appeared, it had not drawn much attention. They were merely two Snake Princesses and a girl in spiked armor. In an arena filled with slaves possessing Devil Fruit powers, they did not stand out much. But after several matches, everything changed.
Cheers erupted throughout the arena. "Gorgon! Gorgon!"
A large group of Celestial Dragons shouted, "Kill them! Kill them! Saint Jalmack's Son's bitches!"
Amid Haki as overwhelming as collapsing mountains and roaring seas, Marigold swung her enormous snake tail and sent groups of opponents flying. Sandersonia sprayed venom, leaving a string of afterimages as she instantly toppled towering opponents as huge as mountains.
"Perfume Femur!" Hancock kicked an opponent covered head to toe in iron armor and carrying a shield, blasting him into the wall like a cannonball. The shield, impervious even to bullets, shattered into fragments that rained down without end.
Countless people were stunned by that savage kick. It was hard to imagine such long, beautiful legs possessing such terrifying strength. Especially when the girl's head was locked inside a spiked helmet, which should have severely limited her vision.
Many Celestial Dragons still retained the sense of awe from the last time they had been petrified. Even more felt that, despite wearing such a horrifying spiked helmet, Hancock's extraordinary bearing could not be concealed. Strangely enough, although they hated Saint Jalmack's Son, they could not bring themselves to hate Hancock.
"Saint Jalmack's Son's gladiators have won ten straight!" the host shouted excitedly into his microphone. Numerous oversized Den Den Mushi broadcast the announcement to every corner of the stands.
Even though many of the gladiators sent into the arena possessed Devil Fruit powers, no one could defeat the Gorgon Sisters fighting together.
"Wahahaha!" Miming stood on the railing of the VIP section, striking an utterly arrogant pose. "I made money again! Thanks, everyone!"
A group of furious Celestial Dragons threw their chips onto the ground and shouted unwillingly.
Someone burst into laughter. "It was obvious the Gorgon Sisters would win, yet you still bet against them. Aren't you just giving Saint Jalmack's Son money?"
"I'd rather die than bet on Saint Jalmack's Son winning!" Many shouted with bloodshot eyes. After being petrified before, each of them had paid a hundred million to be restored. Now they had lost nearly another hundred million on the arena betting pool. They were practically handing money to Miming nonstop.
"I won't vent this anger unless they're beaten to death!"
"Whose family still has slaves who can fight? Lend them to us!"
"Enough, Shalria is here! Saint Charlos and Saint Charmak too! We can't let Saint Jalmack's Son keep acting so smug!"
As a giant slave mount eight meters tall, dressed in a captain's coat and wearing a pirate hat, crawled over, the stands erupted in cheers. "Saint Rosward is here!"
A parasol had been stuck into the slave mount's back, its shaft driven directly into the flesh of his shoulder. The giant captain endured the excruciating pain as he crawled forward, obedient as a dog. Saint Rosward and Shalria sat together atop the broad back of the slave, their faces full of pride.
Shalria said to Saint Rosward, "Father, we have to vent our anger today!"
Saint Rosward laughed. "Don't worry. I've already bought the fiercest gladiators. Those old bastards gouged me hard—it cost a full five hundred million Berry. But as long as we can vent this anger, we might even win it back."
"Will it work, Father?" Shalria still did not feel reassured. "I want those three female slaves dead!"
"These are gladiators worth five hundred million Berry! They've never lost!" Saint Rosward laughed. "They used to be vicious pirates, major criminals who killed more than a thousand people, with bounties of one hundred and fifty million!"
"I found someone formidable too. A criminal who used to be a gang boss, heh heh." Saint Charmak came over and assured Shalria.
"Will it work?"
"He's especially good at fighting, and the woman he loves is in my hands." Saint Charmak wore a smug expression as he held a golden high-heeled sandal and spun it around his finger. "For this, that brat will do anything I tell him. He's so despicable and cruel that I just love him. He's my favorite Miracle Boy!"
"That's filthy! Stay away from me!"
"Don't worry, it's been disinfected." Saint Charmak spun the shoe around his finger, looking utterly reluctant to part with it.
"Very good. Then we have three people." Saint Rosward climbed down from the slave's back, settled into the VIP section, and pointed at his slave mount. "Take him in too."
The arena supervisor came over with his men and greeted Saint Rosward. He wore the same Celestial Dragon hairstyle and had two CP0 agents as bodyguards.
"Then, are you all initiating a three-on-three challenge?" The supervisor specifically explained to Shalria, "You must understand in advance that only Saint Jalmack's Son has the right to decide whether the Gorgon Sisters live or die."
In other words, according to Saint Jalmack's Son's agreement with the arena, even if the Gorgon Sisters were defeated, they could not be killed, or compensation would have to be paid. Saint Jalmack's Son had paid an insurance premium of a full billion Berry for the Gorgon Sisters! If the Gorgon Sisters died, the other party and the arena would have to pay a combined ten billion!
"How can that be?" Shalria cried out. "Father, I want those three slaves dead!"
"Then you'll have to negotiate terms with Saint Jalmack's Son." The supervisor understood their relationship well. They were relatives, yet they harbored grudges against one another. Since they could not act directly, they could only vent their anger through slave gladiator matches. He had the feeling that Saint Jalmack's Son had thrown the Gorgon Sisters into the arena precisely because he had been waiting for them to come.
Before long, Miming appeared before them in a carefree manner.
"I heard you want to change this to a death match?" Miming looked over the challenge letter handed to him. "Oh, Captain Dais, Mafia Gild Tesoro, and Snowman Butcher Machio, the former pirate captain with a one-hundred-and-fifty-million bounty?"
"That's right." Shalria's face flushed red with rage the moment she saw Miming. "I want those three bitches dead!"
"That's not impossible. They seem like suitable opponents." Miming was unexpectedly easygoing. "But naturally, we need to add a wager—between us."
"Straightforward, brat." Saint Rosward said, "Name your price. You aren't going to demand an outrageous sum, are you?"
"Of course not, we're relatives!" Miming grinned. "If one side loses, their slaves will be at the other side's disposal."
"Excellent!"
"Ah, no, wait." Miming glanced at the shoe Saint Charmak was dangling in his hand. "Saint Charmak, I'm not interested in your mafia member. Good with guns? He isn't even a Devil Fruit user, so he's worthless. What's with that shoe?"