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One Piece: As Heavy as a Gale #106
🕑 Added 2025-07-27 22:01:02 +0000 UTCNormally, this would be the part where Gale leaned in, theatrically mysterious, then blurted out something profoundly stupid. "What’s your f
Normally, this would be the part where Gale leaned in, theatrically mysterious, then blurted out something profoundly stupid.
"What’s your favorite color?"
"Boobs or ass?"
"Do you think fishmen shed?"
But very sadly—and he would mourn this later—Gale clenched his metaphorical jaw and stuffed that little gremlin voice back down into the cellar of his brain. With great reluctance and actual emotional effort, he asked the real question.
He leaned against the wall of the cell, arms crossed, voice low. “Would you be willing to kill a Celestial Dragon… or take the blame for his death… in exchange for your freedom?”
Law blinked once.
Then again.
And then, as if Gale had asked if he wanted to buy extended warranty for a ship he didn’t own, he scoffed. “That’s the worst joke I’ve ever heard.”
Gale raised a finger as if to argue, then paused. “...Okay, maybe second worst. I once heard a guy say ‘Doflamingo has drip.’ Still haunts me.”
Law didn’t even twitch. Just glared at him like he was trying to kill him with silence.
“Anyway, I’m not joking,” Gale said, finally straightening up. His voice was different now—still casual, still him—but lower, steadier, and lined with something a bit too serious for a guy in a dragon mask.
Law’s jaw tightened. “So in exchange for freeing me, you want me to die. That it?”
“No one said anything about dying,” Gale replied with a shrug. “I’m not offering a suicide mission. I’m offering you a shot. A chance. You take the fall for a Celestial Dragon's death, yeah, but I’ll arrange everything. A way out of Sabaody. A coated ship waiting, straight to Fishman Island, crew and all....”
He tapped the side of his head.
“The risk is there. Always is. But it’s better than doing nothing.”
Law looked at him like he was weighing the words like explosives. He turned his head, letting the seastone cuffs clink dully against the wall as he shook his head.
“I’d rather wait,” he muttered. “I’ll find an opportunity. I’ll escape on my own.”
Gale sighed. Long and loud. The kind of sigh that had centuries of disappointment packed into it.
He stepped closer to the bars, his voice dropping. “You don’t get it, do you?”
Law’s eyes flicked to him, sharp and narrow.
“You think you’ll get a chance to escape once you’re sold?” Gale asked. “To a Celestial Dragon?”
He pointed toward the ceiling—toward the surface, toward Mary Geoise, toward hell itself. “You even understand what it means to be owned by one of those bastards? I’m not talking shackles and labor camps. I’m talking chains inside your skull. I’m talking collars that explode if you sneeze without permission.”
He stared through the bars, right at Law, and his voice lost its humor completely.
“You’ll be a toy. A thing. A status symbol. You’ll spend your days cutting acne out of one dragon's back and your nights getting whipped by another just because he feels like it. You’ll be watched by guards who think 'surgery' is a fancy word for witchcraft, and they’ll treat you like a tool. You’ll pray for death. You’ll beg for it.”
There was silence for a long moment.
Then Gale exhaled again and stepped back. The edge in his voice dulled.
“But hey,” he said, hands raised in mock surrender, “what do I know, right? I’m just the guy trying to save you.”
Gale stared at Law, watching the gears grind slowly but stubbornly behind that sour-milk-glare of his. The guy still didn’t look fully convinced, like a cat eyeing a half-empty box and deciding whether it was worth the risk.
Guess it’s time to pull out the heavy artillery, Gale thought, taking a breath. He leaned a bit closer to the bars, letting his voice drop an octave.
“If that’s not enough reason for you… then think of it as an opportunity to screw over Doflamingo.”
Now that got a twitch. Law’s fingers curled faintly in the seastone cuffs, his shoulders tense.
Gale pressed on.
“We pull this off, and the human auctioning house goes up in flames. Literally, if I have my way. The Celestial Dragons will be furious. They’ll start sniffing around for someone to blame. And who do you think they’ll turn to?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. “Doflamingo’s name is tied to this business. You get the picture.”
Law’s brow furrowed. That hesitation was there again, flickering behind his cold stare. Gale could practically hear the devil and angel on his shoulders screaming at each other in a North Blue accent.
Time for the finishing blow, Gale mused, already bracing himself for Law’s reaction.
“It’s not exactly fulfilling Corazon’s work,” Gale said quietly, “but it’s a start. Plus, you’ll be a free man, with a ride into the New World… where you’ll have way more chances to ruin Doffy’s life.”
That did it.
Law’s eyes widened—really widened this time. His entire posture shifted, as if someone had just punched him square in the gut but in a weirdly nostalgic way. And then came the question Gale had been waiting for.
“…How do you know that name?” Law asked. His voice was sharper now, almost dangerous. “Who are you?”
Gale smiled under the dragon mask. It was hard to stop himself from doing jazz hands and whispering, “I’m Batman,” but he stayed on script.
“Again,” he said calmly, “who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is that we can help each other. So how about it?”
Law’s eyes narrowed again, the spark of suspicion returning. But now there was something else behind it. Something bitter, and bruised, and determined.
He grit his teeth. “Fine… but if you double-cross me, I swear—”
“I’m not that much of an asshole,” Gale interrupted, holding up a hand. “And believe me, if I wanted to screw you over, I’d already have done it. I’m not freeing you right now because I need this to happen the right way. Just like your business with Doflamingo, I’ve got mine.”
Law held his gaze for a few moments longer. Then, slowly, almost reluctantly, he nodded.
No promises. No handshakes. Just a nod. That was the best Gale would get, and he’d take it.
Gale nodded back, already turning to leave.
“Well then… if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some preparations to make.” He glanced over his shoulder one last time. “My guy’ll find you on the day of the auction. He’ll tell you what you need to do.”
Then, like a shadow unraveling into the dark, Gale slipped out of the chamber and vanished into the silence of the underground halls.
...
Inside the palatial heart of Dressrosa, atop the highest floor where the air reeked of power and perfume, Donquixote Doflamingo lounged on a leather-backed seat behind a desk littered with wine bottles, paperwork, and broken dreams.
The blinds were open. He liked to see the sun bleed over the kingdom he owned.
That was when the heavy doors creaked open.
Trebol slithered in, hunched and grinning like a slug with arthritis.
“Doooooffy~! Call from Sabaody, sniff-snort... urgent one, too.”
Doflamingo didn’t move his head, just flicked his pink sunglasses up a little, revealing the faint glint of interest in his eyes.
Trebol handed him the Transponder Snail. It already had Diamante’s ridiculous feathered face.
“Yo, Joker,” came Diamante’s voice, static-ridden but unmistakable, “I’ve arrived. Just landed an hour ago.”
Doflamingo spun slightly in his chair, setting a glass down on the table. “And? How’s the stage looking?”
Diamante made a noncommittal grunt. “Messy. Too many dogs sniffing around the bone. Every low-life with a bounty and a dream wants a piece of the auction. But I’ll handle it. You know I will.”
Doflamingo smiled faintly. “Good. We need the crowd. Hype is half the business.”
“Still...” Diamante hesitated. “There was one thing. One of the guards mentioned a guy snuck in asking about the surgeon.”
“...And?” Doflamingo asked lazily.
“The guy was wearing a dragon mask.”
That made Doflamingo stop mid-sip. He lowered his glass with the grace of a blade descending. “Dragon mask...?”
“Yeah. Apparently the same kind of mask that gladiator from Centaurea wore. The one who ruined our investment.” Diamante’s tone sharpened. “Probably the same guy who knocked out our prize fighter in front of all those nobles?”
Doflamingo’s smile twitched.
A vein bulged at the corner of his forehead. And yet... he laughed. Low and slow at first.
Then came the full thing. That signature, spine-curdling screech:
“Fufufufufufufufu!!!”
He stood up slowly, towering behind his desk now, his arms spreading wide like a showman about to drop the curtain on a massacre.
“Ah... now I remember. That cost me a lot of money. A lot. Not to mention a huge favor from those Mary Geoise bastards who wanted that fighter for a private ring.”
Trebol cackled in the background, making wet squelching noises for no apparent reason.
Doflamingo’s voice dropped an octave. “Is he going to be a problem?”
Diamante chuckled. “No. Just thought you’d like to know. I’ll be taking his head back to Dressrosa when this is all over. Little bonus for you.”
Another beat of silence.
Then Doflamingo’s teeth flashed in a grin wide enough to slice.
“As expected of you, Diamante. You really get me.”
He ended the call with a click, the Transponder Snail slumping asleep with a sigh.
Trebol grunted beside him. “Th-the guy’s brave, I’ll give him that... snorrrt”
Doflamingo turned back to the window, staring down at his kingdom with one thought on his mind.
'A man in a dragon mask, huh...? You'll get what you deserve this time around...'
The warm orange light of Dressrosa’s evening sun filtered through stained glass, casting Doflamingo’s tall figure in a long shadow. From behind him, Trebol squelched uncomfortably, eyes squinting, mouth twitching as a thought finally slithered its way into his brain.
“Doffy... snrk! Now that I think about it… didn’t ya need Law for his Devil Fruit? Why sell ‘im to the Celestials now, ehhh?”
Doflamingo didn’t turn around. He kept staring out the window, that shark grin still splitting his face like a tear in velvet.
“Because Law’s a stubborn little bastard with a big grudge,” he said smoothly. “He won’t just do what he’s told. He needs to feel it. Pain. Hopelessness. The weight of wasted revenge. I was going to let him try whatever half-baked plan he had... then crush it. Break his spirit. Make him mine.”
Trebol’s creepy laugh burbled in the back of his throat. “Kehkehkeh! Now that’s a good plan! Classic Doffy!”
Doflamingo’s smile widened. “It was. But things have changed. The Celestials… they’ll break him for me. They’re much better at that than I am.”
He finally turned, adjusting his sunglasses with one gloved finger. “Then, when the timing’s right, I’ll swoop in like a hero… and take back a nice, quiet little tool.”
Trebol paused, goo dripping lazily from his shoulder. “B-but what if they kill him? Or worse… what if they find out about his fruit?”
Doflamingo laughed. Not that airy amusement from earlier—this one was sharp, cutting, and just a little bit unhinged.
“Fufufufu… even those rotting fossils in Mary Geoise aren’t that stupid. They won’t break their new toy, not after one of them nearly got gutted. And Law? He’s got his flaws, but he’s not an idiot. He won’t reveal that fruit unless he has to.”
“Just as expected of Doffy...” Trebol gurgled proudly.
Meanwhile, back on Sabaody...
The lighting in Shakky’s bar was mellow, her ashtray already full as Ren leaned over a paper-littered table, gesturing with all the exaggerated clarity of someone trying very hard to sound strategic.
“Alright, so first,” Ren said, tapping the first page of a crudely drawn layout of the auction house, “we sneak into Area 1 through the old tunnel used by the Hound Pets for bootleg deliveries. I already mapped it—leads straight into—”
“—Nice plan,” Gale said, swinging into the room like a lazy gust of wind and immediately plopping down in a chair. “Not gonna work.”
Ren blinked. “I haven’t even finished explaining.”
“Trust me, I don’t need to hear the rest,” Gale said, waving him off while grabbing a grape off the bar like he owned the place. “It’s got all the signs of a solid plan. Logical. Efficient. Well-scouted. Which is exactly why it won’t work.”
Shakky leaned her cheek into her palm, watching him with a faint smirk. “Oh? And why’s that?”
“Because,” Gale said, spinning Ren’s map around to look at it upside-down, “the guys running the auction aren’t stupid. You think they don’t know about that tunnel? You think with all those eyes crawling over the island, they won’t sniff out something that tidy?”
Ren looked like he was about to argue, but then frowned, grumbling. “Okay, fair. So what, you got a better one?”
Gale sat up and slapped down a new plan like a dealer throwing down a wild card. “Better? Pfft. Insane. But we’re gonna need a lot of booze, some fireworks, a talking raccoon if you’ve got one, and—most importantly—someone willing to dress up as a mermaid to cause a distraction.”
There was a beat of silence.
“…I hate how often this happens,” Ren muttered.
Shakky just chuckled and stood up to pour herself another drink. “Alright then. Let’s hear it.”
Gale’s grin turned sharp.
Time to raise hell.
