Chapter 9 & 10. Big Mom Pirates

Chapter 9 & 10. Big Mom Pirates

High above the waters of Totto Land - where rivers of colorful juice flow into the ocean and the sky is often graced with a gentle Cotton Candy Flurry - nestled in the clouds, lay a tranquil Sky Island. The sun bathed the island in a gentle, golden light, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of exotic flowers. Among the idyllic beauty, a solitary figure sat, his presence contrasting with the peaceful surroundings. He sat silently, a barrel of booze by his side, and a mug in his hand. His eyes, half-lidded and bloodshot, gazed out into the endless sky, a faint drunken smile tugging at his lips.

"Guup! Guup!"

The man took a deep swig from his mug, the rich, potent liquor burning its way down his throat.

"Gouu- Hicc!"

"Ahh," he sighed, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to resonate through the air. His voice was rough, worn out from years of roaring, yet there was a strange contentment in it. This was some of the best booze he had ever had.

He had been on this island for what felt like an eternity, long enough that the reason for his arrival had slipped from his mind. The Sky People, with their gentle nature and kind hearts, had welcomed him, tending to him without question.

"Worororo...ro," he chuckled to himself, a low, gravelly sound. "Tolerable folks," he muttered, taking another drink. The booze was so good, in fact, that he believed he was in paradise. But deep down, he knew. It was always the same reason. He was looking for a place to die. The thought floated in the back of his mind, as familiar to him as the taste of the liquor on his tongue.

The man tilted his head back, his long, unruly hair cascading down his broad shoulders. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift.

Were his tale be told - as a pirate - he had suffered defeat seven times. By both marines and enemies, he had been captured 18 times. Tortured and tortured again, he had lived on as a prisoner, enduring pain and suffering that would break most men. Now, this was his suicide. An almost unheard-of suicide by jumping from a Sky Island.

He took another drink, his hand a bit shaky from months of mindless drinking - weeks since crashing on the Sky Island. The liquor did little to dull the memories, though. He had challenged the marines and the Yonko singlehandedly eighteen times and had been tortured over a thousand times. He was sentenced to death forty times. When they hanged him, the chains broke. When they sent him to the guillotine, the blade shattered. Even when they impaled him, the spears broke. Ultimately, he had sunk nine great prison ships. In other words, no one could kill this man.

His gaze drifted to the edge of the island, the drop-off where the clouds parted to reveal the endless sky below. He took another swig, his mind wandering to the countless times he had sought death, only to have it elude him. Suicide was his hobby, a grim pastime that had become a part of him.

As he finished his drink, he let the mug fall to the ground. He rose unsteadily to his feet, his massive frame towering over the peaceful landscape. He staggered slowly to the edge, the sky stretching out before him. He stared as the Sky People begged him to watch his step, the wind tugging at his clothes and hair.

Noticing the candy falling from the sky, he wondered if perhaps, this time, he was here for a different reason, if not entirely. Whatever it was, however, he couldn't remember unless he jogged his memory by smashing the ground below as hard as he could.

This man's name was well known across the New World. Everyone said, "In a one-on-one, always bet on Kaido." For he was the pirate called "The strongest creature" amongst all things that live on the land, in the sea, or in the air.

---🐉💥⛓️🍻🔥⚔️🌪️💀🏴‍☠️🌊---

Clearing out every Homie in the Baum leading to Pudding's alleged room was painstaking. I disposed of anthropomorphic cake vases, biscuit portraits, candy sculptures, chocolate chandeliers, pastry tapestries, cupcake candelabras..., and daringly decapitated a wandering chess soldier, tossing it out through a newly created hole in the Chateau's wall. Relief flooded over me as their incessant whining and futile threats ceased, knowing I wouldn't have to confront Katakuri anytime soon either.

With the Homies banished, I stood before the door leading into the room, its Homie nature yelling threats at me and making all sorts of noises.

"Aw, why don't you be a good Homie and let me inside without a fuss, or..." I paused dramatically, eyeing the trembling doorknob with a smirk. The Homie's terrified expression softened, understanding it was cornered and had no choice but to unbar the entrance.

The door creaked open reluctantly, revealing the room inside.

Besides the bed, the room was adorned in princess-like decor. Delicate lace curtains fluttered at the balcony doors, inviting in a soft breeze that rustled through the room. Pastel-colored furnishings and plush carpets added to its serene charm. A wide balcony offered a breathtaking view of the island, stretching beyond the horizon.

But what drew my immediate attention was the figure on the bed - a young girl, around three years old, with cherubic features and light brown hair peeking out from beneath the pink and white sheets. Her face was round and innocent, framed by side-swept bangs that partially obscured her eyes.

She sat cross-legged, clutching what seemed to be a small book close to her chest. Upon noticing me, she quickly covered the book with a portion of the sheets, leaving only a corner peeking out. Her expression shifted from deep concentration to surprise, then swiftly transformed into the innocent demeanor of a child her age. Her small, delicate hands trembled slightly as she adjusted the sheets over her lap.

Next to the bed, on a small piece of furniture, sat a half-eaten pudding. Its creamy surface reflected the warm afternoon light filtering through the lace curtains.

I knew instantly that the girl before me was my older sister, Pudding.

Despite the presence of numerous seemingly dormant Homies in her room, their stillness didn't concern me in the least. At the very least, I had disrupted their connection, delaying any potential interference with my plan.

Seeing Pudding visibly frightened, I tried to ease the tension with a soft smile. "Hey there," I said gently, taking a slow step closer. "You don't need to be scared. I'm not going to hurt you or anything."

"We didn't really get a chance to properly meet on my birthday," I continued, recalling the brief glimpses of her amidst the festivities. I had woken up from a mysterious slumber to notice her, and then, during the celebration, the adults had conveniently kept us apart, as if our contact could have brought about the end of the world.

"I'm your brother, Keki," I introduced myself, momentarily forgetting the age gap between us. It felt odd to emphasize such a difference, especially given Pudding's noticeably smaller stature compared to mine. She was one of Big Mom's children who tended to be of average to short height, unlike me.

I was already taking slow steps in before I remembered to be courteous in respect to my motive and situation. "May I come in?"

Pudding shook her head rapidly, her wide eyes fixed on me fearfully, as if she was staring at a monster.

Respecting her fear, I halted a few feet away, hoping to build trust. "I just want to talk."

She remained silent, staring back at me uneasily.

Noticing the book she clutched tightly beneath the sheets - seeking comfort, I gently asked, "What are you reading there?"

Her grip tightened underneath the sheets, but she didn't respond.

"Why are you afraid of me?" I inquired softly. She maintained her gaze momentarily, then glanced past me, towards the top of the door. Curious at what she was looking at, I turned around to see it, feeling a pang myself as I noticed Big Mom's portrait - no doubt a Homie itself.

Understanding Pudding's apprehension, I scanned the room, taking in the decor in soft pinks and whites - princess dolls and even a unicorn figurine caught my eye.

"Have you ever seen a unicorn?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood. "A real unicorn." Pudding shook her head, a mixture of curiosity and wariness in her eyes.

"Mama told me she has a unicorn and other creatures," I ventured, hoping to pique her interest. "Would you like me to take you to see it?"

Pudding hesitated, clearly torn between fear and curiosity. After a long moment, she slowly nodded. I felt relieved that she was on the right track, realizing that pushing her could complicate matters, especially if she chose to hide or alter memories later on. With a little more effort to gain her trust, she could eventually speak willingly and tell me everything in her own pace.

Yet, convincing Pudding to leave her room wasn't as easy as I had hoped. She remained apprehensive, flinching away when I attempted to touch her and anxiously gesturing towards the balcony. There, I noticed the silhouette of a woman, the same maid I had seen earlier, quietly smoking. Pudding's uneasy reaction to the faint movements from the silhouette made me wonder if there was more to their relationship - perhaps signs of mistreatment.

Sympathizing with her unease, I gently steered the conversation towards unicorns, weaving in details to capture her interest. Mixing fact and fiction, I distracted her enough to coax her out of the room. Together, we quietly made our way towards the second floor, avoiding any further encounters with Homies or other potential 'threats'.

Our destination was the lowest point in the Chateau - the underground - where Mama's beasts were first preserved in elaborate prisons.

Navigating without hindrance, we reached the second floor. Fortunately, the Baums were nearly deserted, the faint sounds emanating from one of the rooms suggesting a heated discussion, akin to a meeting. However, my priority was now shifted from exploration to gaining Pudding's trust. We descended past the first floor and finally arrived at the Underground.

---🕯️ 🗝️ 🚪 🌑 ⛓️ 🪞 🕸️ 💀 🐀 🌿 🦄---

The atmosphere changed drastically as we entered this lower level. The once whimsical cake-like structures now took on a more sinister tone. The walls, still made of sugary confections, seemed to close in around us. The air was cooler here, carrying a faint scent of decay mixed with the lingering sweetness of caramelized sugar.

Corridors sometimes narrowed to claustrophobic passages, and other times opened into vast, echoing chambers. The occasional glimpse of motifs carved into the walls added a chill to the dungeon-like surroundings.

The silence was nearly oppressive, punctuated only by the distant screams of someone being tortured and the occasional creak of the cake walls. Pudding clutched my hand tighter, seeking comfort as I spun tales of fantastical creatures to distract her from the chilling surroundings.

Suddenly, we stumbled upon a slightly ajar door that revealed a sight that could chill one to the bone. Instinctively, I moved to shield Pudding's eyes with my massive hands, but I sensed her curiosity overcoming her fear, her forehead twitching slightly as she peeked through my fingers with her third eye.

Inside the room, bones of unknown creatures were scattered across the floor, and the walls were adorned with heads of various sizes. Opposite the door, a large mirror hung ominously. In the center of the room stood a guillotine, a grim tale of Big Mom's merciless justice. The air reeked of decay, hinting that something fresh had recently met its end.

Avoiding having to come up with explanations, I quickly pulled Pudding away from the Execution Room and back into the corridor. We pressed on without further distractions from ominous chambers until we arrived at what appeared to be our final destination.

The door before us looked markedly different from the others we had passed. Its book-like carvings and gilded edges hinted at importance, making me hope this was where we would find what we sought. I pushed it open.

Inside, we stepped into a scene that immediately commanded our attention. Several men busily attended to tasks - some torturing prisoners whose agonized screams echoed off the walls, while others laughed callously, at the screams. At the heart of the room, Charlotte Mont-d'Or, Big Mom's nineteenth son, stood ensconced in a massive book, engrossed like an artist at work.

The book's oversized cover obscured its contents from our view, adding to the mystery of the room. As our presence was noticed, the room fell into an abrupt silence. Mont-d'Or slowly lifted his gaze from the pages, his sharp features illuminated by the steady, even light in the room.

Mont-d'Or cut a distinctive figure - lanky and angular, with long limbs and a stocky abdomen. His blond hair flared outward, framing a rounded chin and a long, pointed nose. Despite his slouched posture, there was an air of authority about him. He wore an open-chested, dark-colored jumpsuit adorned with a skeletal pattern that traced his limbs and ribs. A dark top hat with a light pink ribbon perched atop his head, complementing his dark lipstick and precise eye makeup.

He looked at us, particularly me, without giving up any aura of his authority. Sensing Pudding's apprehension, I gave her a reassuring pat, silently conveying that Mont-d'Or was our brother. Despite him towering over me, I met his gaze confidently, speaking to him as one sibling to another.

"Mama wanted Pudding to see the unicorn," I began, my voice measured and calm. The room fell into a tense silence, punctuated only by the soft shuffling of feet. Pudding's hopeful gaze fixed on Mont-d'Or, but I maintained my focus.

Mont-d'Or's expression hardened, skepticism etching his features as he regarded us. "If that's true, Mama would have sent her servant, not her favorite child. And her servant would know the unicorn is in the Book Library, not the Prisoner Library."

His argument was solid. If the unicorn were truly in the Book Library on the Fifth Floor, Big Mom would have sent someone else. But it wasn't there, and Big Mom had known that for months. I suppressed a smirk at Mont-d'Or's confidence in his deception. If only he knew how much patience Big Mom had had with him.

"Okay, fine," I admitted lightly. "I wasn't sent by Mama. I brought Pudding here because she really wants to see the unicorn. And I know it's not on the Fifth Floor…"

Mont-d'Or's stoic expression faltered slightly, but he maintained his composure, though I could sense his unease growing with every word I said after that.

"Actually, Mama knows it's not on the fifth floor," I continued smoothly. "She's known for months. I've overheard her planning what she'll do to the one who failed to deliver the unicorn on time. Apparently, the Minister of Cheese had assured her that he sent servants with the unicorn bound in a Book Prison, months ago."

"I don't know who the Minister of Cheese is, but... I passed by the Execution Room earlier," I added casually. "Must be unnerving working near such a place. But since the unicorn isn't here either, I'll report back to Mama. She might think it was stolen, given her trust in her children."

"But before I go," I turned to Mont-d'Or, who now seemed visibly unsettled, his makeup beginning to smudge. "What were you working on, bro?... Why the nerves? Is something wrong?"

Mont-d'Or's eyes widened slightly, his confident facade beginning to crack under the weight of my revelation. His arrogance faltered, replaced by a flicker of concern.

"I... I was just... overseeing some matters," Mont-d'Or replied, his voice betraying a hint of anxiety. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

"Oh well," I said, glancing around at the tense atmosphere in the room and waving my hand lightly. "If it doesn't involve the unicorn, why be concerned?"

"Okay, Pudding. Looks like there's no unicorn here, or anywhere," I announced, turning to leave, despite Pudding's reluctance. "Let's go back."

Before we could make our exit, Mont-d'Or stepped forward, his demeanor now a mix of urgency and pleading. "Wait!" he exclaimed, stopping us in our tracks. "I... I haven't been entirely truthful. The unicorn... I've been working on it. Decorating it, you see. Mama can be so impatient, and I wanted to surprise her with something extraordinary - a masterpiece that will make her forget my deception."

He glanced nervously at his subordinates, who shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "I promise, I'll show you what I've been creating. You'll see, it's not just a prison for the unicorn; it's a marvel," he insisted, his voice gaining confidence as he spoke of his artistic endeavor.

Glad that he had come around, I agreed that we'd stay a tad bit longer and see what he had been working on - no promises.

Mont-d'Or led us to the large book he had been engrossed in earlier. As he opened it, we were greeted by a stunning sight. Inside the book was the unicorn, its elegant form prancing around. But what truly captivated me was the background aesthetic, even if incomplete.

The scene was a breathtaking mix of enchanted forest and starry night, with shimmering trees and glowing flowers. The sky was painted in deep blues and purples, speckled with twinkling stars. The ground was covered in lush, soft grass that seemed to sway gently, despite the unicorn's movements.

Pudding was mesmerized by the unicorn's graceful leaps and twirls within this enchanting landscape. I could see the whimsical wonder in her eyes as she watched the magical creature.

I understood why Mont-d'Or had kept this a secret from Mama. The intricate, time-consuming work on the aesthetic background explained the delay. Mama preferred her creatures secured in the fifth-floor library, but Mont-d'Or had been creating something far more beautiful and complex.

"Mama will really love this once it's finished," I said after admiring the anime-like aesthetic landscape for sometime, long enough to notice the subtly included food theme - characteristic of Big Mom.

"That's why you mustn't remind her about the unicorn," Mont-d'Or said, his tone almost pleading.

"Okay, fine," I agreed. "I'll help keep Mama's mind off the unicorn until you are done, but you must promise that Pudding will always get to see the unicorn whenever she wants."

Mont-d'Or hesitated, clearly about to argue. "But that will only distract me from-"

"Whenever she wants," I reiterated, cutting him short with a firm voice.

He looked at me for a moment, then reluctantly nodded. "Alright, whenever she wants," he conceded, albeit begrudgingly.

I felt a sense of accomplishment, realizing I had killed two birds with one stone: building a foundation for Pudding's relationship with me and securing an alliance with another of my siblings.

I guess being confined to the Chateau for a month wasn't that bad after all.

As we made our way back - after Pudding had been captivated by the unicorn's graceful leaps and shimmering star trails for a while - I decided it was time to return to the upper floors. On our journey back, we encountered an intriguing group.

This group consisted of some of Big Mom's other children, sneaking into the castle for reasons they didn't immediately disclose. I could empathize with them. These were my siblings who hadn't had the opportunity to live in the chateau like Pudding and me.

Among them was Charlotte Raisin, memorable for his stoic demeanor and scarred face that even I found imposing. He was the eldest among the sneaky bunch and towered over me. Then there was Charlotte Mascarpone from the Snakeneck Tribe, identifiable by his long neck and timid nature. He tried to slip away when he noticed Pudding and me approaching.

Most striking was Charlotte Harumeg, who timidly, yet endearingly, stepped forward and inquired if we knew where Mama kept her unicorn and other enchanting creatures, despite the older siblings' repeated attempts to dissuade her, insisting they would locate the unicorn themselves as planned. Harumeg was only two years older than Pudding. She stood out even among the current siblings, being one of the decuplets who were almost identical, as I recalled from my second birthday celebration.

Pudding eagerly pointed towards the Prison Library, enthusiastically describing to Harumeg how magnificent the unicorn and its sanctuary were. The two seemed to be sharing a moment of connection before I intervened, urging Pudding that we should leave before we were caught.

Whether they chose to investigate or suspected a trap was entirely up to them. As soon as we reached the third floor and encountered the enigma of a figure standing at 509 centimeters, any thoughts of them faded away.

I had wanted to inquire with Pudding about my memories - the crucial reason that drew me to her - but I hesitated, not wanting to disturb the bond we were building.

I chose to let Pudding grow more comfortable with me. Regaining memories only to potentially lose them again at her whim seemed futile. Instead, having a sister who cared for me enough not to do such a thing was more valuable.

'Here we go again,' I distanced myself from Pudding, ready to confront the 509cm tall Katakuri, yet again.

However, to my surprise and almost genuine relief, Katakuri wasn't here to obstruct me like he usually did. On the contrary, he bore a message, potentially worse than having to face him.

"Mama wants to see you... in her Queen's Chamber,"

---🕯️ 🗝️ 🚪 🌑 ⛓️ 🪞 🕸️ 💀 🐀 🌿 🦄---

The Queen's Chamber was a place I'd only heard about in passing, a domain reserved for Big Mom's grandest meetings and proclamations. Walking alongside Katakuri, his stoic expression betraying nothing, I couldn't shake the unease settling in my gut. This wasn't a usual summons to one of her intimate tea parties or a routine training session. No, this was different.

As we approached, the sheer grandeur of the chamber became apparent, even from the outside. The massive double doors loomed before us, run by special Homies that smelt of pure authority and power. With a resounding creak, they swung open, revealing a cavernous space that seemed to stretch endlessly upward. The ceiling soared to dizzying heights, dwarfing even Katakuri's imposing figure.

Despite the silence that hung heavy, the air inside was tangible with a mix of anticipation and reverence. The chamber was filled with a stretching crowd, their forms towering over me like giants, their movements hushed and respectful as they parted like waves to allow us passage. Their eyes, filled with a mix of curiosity and deference, followed our every step with unwavering attention.

At the far end of the vast chamber, atop a raised dais adorned with gold and sugar, sat Big Mom herself. Her throne was a monument of extravagance, towering above her like a symbol of her dominance. The armrests were a spectacle of indulgence, adorned with candies and sweets in a riot of colors and shapes.

Approaching her, I struggled with the weight of formality. Big Mom, Queen Charlotte, Emperor Charlotte - the titles swirled in my mind, each one a reminder of her power and my own insignificance in her presence. She seemed a stranger now, no longer the comforting figure of my mother for two years. The crowd's respectful silence amplified my unease, making me feel smaller and more insignificant than ever.

Every step towards her felt like a march to my own judgment, the sound of my footfalls echoing in the cavernous hall. Big Mom's laughter, as she indulged in sweets without a care, seemed to mock the gravity of the occasion.

As we drew nearer, the ambient murmurs of conversation and rustling fabric gradually subsided. Big Mom looked up from her treat, her gaze locking onto us with a penetrating intensity. Her eyes, usually warm and maternal, now bore into me with a sharpness that threatened to unravel my composure. It was a gaze that sought out weakness, that probed for any sign of deceit or inadequacy.

Katakuri, his role fulfilled, left me to stand alone before Big Mom and seamlessly melded into the crowd. Suddenly, I felt exposed, vulnerable under the weight of her scrutiny and the collective gaze of her courtiers.

Was this more than just a summons? Was it an execution, a judgment of my worthiness in her eyes?

I swallowed hard, gathering what little courage remained. Every second stretched taut like a drawn bowstring.

Big Mom's smile, when it came, held no warmth. It was a smile that spoke of calculations and assessments, a smile that hinted at decisions being made behind those sharp eyes.

"Charlotte Keki," her voice rang out, cutting through the silence like a blade. "You have been busy, haven't you?"

Her words hung in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications. My heart pounded in my chest, every nerve on edge as I struggled to find the right words, the right tone, to navigate this treacherous audience with the most powerful woman in Totto Land - maybe the whole wide world.

I withheld any response, and banked on hope.

"Look around you," Big Mom spoke again. "What do you see?"

Her question echoed off the walls, lingering in the air like a challenge. I scanned the room, acutely aware of every gaze fixed upon me. The crowd, towering figures of Big Mom's court, watched in silence, their expressions unreadable yet filled with expectation.

"I see reverence," I replied carefully, choosing my words with deliberate caution. "I see loyalty and respect for your authority."

Big Mom's smile widened, but it was a gesture devoid of warmth, more akin to a predator surveying its prey. "Indeed," she murmured, her eyes never leaving mine. "But is that all you see?"

Internally, I sighed, weighed my options, then replied. "No."

"I see my heritage. I see my power," I ventured carefully, acknowledging myself as her heir in a way that might please her and steer the conversation away from potentially embarrassing personal matters before the powerful audience. Glancing briefly at the assembled, their rugged attire, looks and scar marks, I continued, "I see my pirates."

The acknowledgment seemed to strike a chord with Big Mom. Her smile now held a touch of approval. A rumble began among the pirates gathered, a low murmur of recognition and anticipation. Big Mom looked out at the crowd, her presence commanding silence before she even spoke.

"I give you, Keki - bearer of my will and my greatest pride!" Her voice boomed through the chamber with authority and pride.

At her proclamation, the room erupted. The pirates, a motley crew of hardened individuals from all corners of Totto Land and beyond, erupted into an intoxicating uproar. Cheers, shouts, and stomping feet filled the air, blending with adulation and respect. The atmosphere electrified, each pirate expressing their allegiance and admiration for their future leader.

I stood at the center of this storm, my heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and exhilaration, feeling like I had somehow ascended to the top of the world effortlessly, though the intensity of the moment thrilled me.

Big Mom's authoritative presence cut through the uproar, commanding silence with just a glance. Gradually, the room quieted, every eye fixed on us. She turned toward me with a proud gaze.

"Keki," she began, her voice resonant with authority, "Now, decide for your pirates. Will it be Impel Down, Mariejois, or Whitebeard? Which will go down first?"

I froze, her question catching me off guard. Had her recent activities been preparations for a major offensive? Did she intend for me to lead it, or was this another test of my loyalty and capability?

As I pondered the implications of each option, mentally weighing their consequences if indeed she meant to attack, a sudden interruption broke the tension. A servant burst into the Queen's Chamber with an urgent expression, disrupting the solemn atmosphere.

The servant rushed forward with urgent strides, his expression wrought with concern. Some pirates attempted to intercept him, questioning his intrusion, but he pushed through their ranks, his voice rising above the murmurs.

"Mama!" he called out urgently. "There's trouble! Totto Land is under attack!"

His announcement pierced the air like a thunderclap, instantly quelling any remaining whispers. Big Mom's brow furrowed with irritation, her gaze sharpening on the approaching servant.

"What?!" she bellowed, her voice booming through the chamber.

The servant tried to steady himself. "It's significant. There's been death, destruction... multiple islands are on fire-"

"Mnhhh?" Big Mom's voice thundered with fury.

The servant hesitated, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Some are saying he is a man, others a beast. But all we know for certain is that he is alone and he is demanding for Ares to fight him!"

Big Mom's expression darkened, a storm brewing in her eyes. Apprehension swept through the room.

"Ares," Big Mom muttered, her voice low and dangerous.

"Ares?" I wondered, unable to understand who would be bold enough to attack Totto Land. Did Luffy really time travel? But he wouldn't be demanding for something like Ares. What was Ares, anyway?

---

C/N: Didn't want to split it.

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Chapter 11, 12, & 13: Kaidou's Suicide

Chapter 14. Drums of... War

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