The Figurine Enthusiast

The principle was simple—two pistols fired at slightly different angles with a split-second delay. When the bullets collided midair, they would deflect and change trajectory, curving around the shield to hit the target behind.

It sounded easy, but was incredibly difficult in practice. Without razor-sharp reflexes and an extraordinary level of perception, it was almost impossible. Even those with Observation Haki would struggle to pull it off with such precision.

As for these cannon-fodder soldiers, they had no idea what had just happened.

"Time for a massacre," Kaguya smirked. "Let's begin."

The moment the words left her lips, she dashed forward like a specter, appearing in front of the rebel troops in the blink of an eye.

The rebels panicked, huddling behind their heavy shields, raising their rifles in a frenzy.

But before they could even aim, Kaguya leapt into the air and pulled the trigger.

Bang bang bang!

In flashes of muzzle fire, bullets tore through the sky, spiraling downward toward the rebels.

Pop pop pop!

The storm of bullets rained down. Blood burst from the rebels' foreheads like red blossoms.

Their shields, though thick, were useless against aerial attacks. The front line crumbled like wheat before a scythe.

Click click.

Her pistols ran dry.

But before the rebels could celebrate, Kaguya casually picked up a new pair from the ground. Bang bang! Two more dropped dead. She stomped forward and resumed her bloody rampage.

The rebel forces were stunned.

In their panic, they tried to regroup with overwhelming numbers—but it was no use. The tide of battle had shifted.

To them, the silver-haired girl was like a ghost, weaving effortlessly through their storm of bullets. They couldn't even graze her.

This wasn't a battle—it was a one-sided slaughter.

Under Kaguya's merciless assault, the rebels collapsed. They dropped their weapons and fled in panic, screaming and sobbing, even abandoning their gear.

The battlefield turned into a bizarre sight: a swarm of rebel soldiers fleeing like headless chickens, chased by a girl who looked too delicate to harm a fly.

The Holy War Army stood frozen in disbelief. Did they just see what they thought they saw?

Was it the heat messing with their vision?

"Hey! What are you all spacing out for? Do you want me to handle all of them myself?!" Kaguya shouted over her shoulder, annoyed.

The Holy War soldiers snapped back to reality, grabbed their weapons, and leapt from cover to join the pursuit.

Kaguya tossed aside her empty pistols and dusted off her hands.

Turns out guns were kind of fun. No wonder so many people loved using them—it made sense now.

It even reminded her of the fun she used to have playing with water guns as a kid.

If the desperate rebels and Holy War fighters ever found out that this brutal battle was, in Kaguya's eyes, no more than a game of toy guns, who knew what their expressions would be?

Oh right—where was Chaka?

Kaguya suddenly remembered that cocky captain. Where had he gone?

She still had some questions for him.

When she finally found him, he looked just like a candle stuck on a cake—planted at the top of a towering, cake-like candle structure. A giant Halloween-style pumpkin spun at the top, with wax mist hanging in the air, and Chaka was already covered in waxy residue.

Seeing Kaguya approaching, Chaka shouted urgently, "Get out of here! Leave now! It's a trap!"

He tried to struggle, but his body was completely immobilized by the hardened wax.

Kaguya walked up to the tower and blinked innocently. "Didn't expect you to be into this kind of thing, Captain. Quite the hobby."

"I am not!" Chaka shouted in frustration.

"Hey, no shame in it," Kaguya nodded understandingly. "There are all kinds of weirdos these days. You don't need to feel bad."

"I said I'm not!" Chaka roared. "You need to leave! That guy is coming! If you don't go now, it'll be too late!"

"It's already too late."

A sinister voice echoed as Mr. 3 stepped out from behind the wax tower.

"Didn't expect someone to walk right into the trap. But don't worry, you'll be a statue too soon enough," he sneered.

"Can I ask something first?" Kaguya pointed at the wax tower. "Why go through all the trouble to make him into a statue? Are you into figurines too?"

"Figurines?" Mr. 3 blinked. "What's that?"

"Collectible models," Kaguya explained, pointing at Chaka. "Like that."

"I am not a figurine!" Chaka shouted angrily—only to inhale too much wax mist and start coughing violently.

"I see," Mr. 3 muttered, then sneered. "Even if you're trying to flatter me into letting him go—it won't work."

"No no," Kaguya waved her hands. "A conceited, arrogant guy like him becoming a figurine is the best thing for him."

Chaka nearly exploded with rage.

"Hmm?" Mr. 3 narrowed his eyes. "Then what do you want?"

"I just wanted to ask you something. Can you come over here for a sec?" Kaguya said, waving him over.

"Hmph. If you're plotting something, forget it," Mr. 3 said coldly.

"Come on, you're Mr. 3 of Baroque Works. Surely you're not afraid of an unarmed girl, right? Relax. Just follow me." With that, Kaguya walked behind a rock.

"You think I'd fall for that?" Mr. 3 grumbled.

Still, despite his words, he obediently followed her.

Mouth says no, body says yes.

"I'm warning you, don't try anything, or I'll—"

Before he could finish, Kaguya brought her hand down sharply on the back of his neck. Thud! He collapsed, unconscious.

After Mr. 3 lost consciousness, the wax created by his Devil Fruit power began to melt. Chaka fell from the wax tower, coughing violently from inhaling the wax mist.

But he didn't have time to clean himself off. He quickly scrambled to his feet and rushed behind the rock.

What he saw stunned him.

The arrogant and overbearing Mr. 3 was now tied up like a dumpling, gagged with a towel and squirming on the ground, letting out muffled "mmmph mmmph" noises.

What the hell happened?

Chaka looked around in confusion, but the silver-haired girl—beautiful as cherry blossoms—was nowhere to be found. It was like she had vanished into thin air.

...

At the same time, within the royal palace of Alabasta—

"President, we've located the Holy War Army. The elite Royal Guard has been dispatched, and Mr. 3 went with them. It won't be long before we eliminate these rebel scum," said a burly man with a chiseled face.

"Mr. 1, don't be so optimistic. Those guys are like cockroaches—always hiding, hard to kill. What matters is finding the former King Cobra and his daughter Vivi. Without them, the so-called Holy War Army won't back down so easily."

The speaker was a man smoking a cigar, with a horizontal scar across his face, slanted eyebrows, and sharp, narrow black eyes. His lips were thin and pursed, his features chiseled with a fierce aura. He wore a black coat, stood tall, and had a golden hook for a left hand.

It was none other than Crocodile.

"We've received intel. According to our scouts, they're likely hiding in a place called Yuba," Mr. 1 said solemnly.

"Yuba?" Crocodile snorted. "Do they still think they can turn the tide? What a bunch of stubborn fools."

"No matter how they resist, the Kingdom of Alabasta is already finished. This is just their death throes," Mr. 1 said coldly.

"Send the troops. Head to Yuba immediately. Wipe out the remnants," Crocodile ordered.

"Yes, sir."

Just as Mr. 1 turned to leave, a pleasant and melodic voice echoed through the room.

"Since when did Crocodile become king of Alabasta? Why wasn't I informed?"

"Who's there?!" Mr. 1 spun around. His pupils shrank.

Not far away, a silver-haired girl had somehow appeared, seated on the sofa with her legs crossed, watching them with an amused smile. Neither of them had noticed her arrival.

"Who are you?! How dare you cause trouble here!" Mr. 1 shouted, stepping forward.

"Hold it." Crocodile narrowed his eyes, locking his sharp gaze on Kaguya. "Why are you here?"

"Why shouldn't I be?" Kaguya replied casually, pouring herself a glass of juice. She looked up and said playfully, "Isn't this territory under the World Government's jurisdiction?"

"What's your purpose here?" Crocodile asked in a deep voice.

"Why do I need to report to you about what I'm doing here?" Kaguya leaned back on the sofa, speaking nonchalantly. "But you've certainly stirred up quite a mess—seizing control of Alabasta under everyone's noses. The Navy didn't even catch wind of it. I assume you've bribed a few people?"

"Hmph, that's none of your concern," Crocodile replied coldly. "I'm one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, officially recognized by the World Government. The Navy has no authority to interfere."

"So just being a Warlord is enough to make you arrogant?" Kaguya mocked. "That title is nothing but the leash of the World Government."

Crocodile's expression darkened, his sharp eyes locking onto Kaguya. "Did you come here just to stir up trouble?"

"I don't have time for this nonsense," Kaguya said, then smirked and blinked. "But I imagine you've gained quite a few valuables from occupying Alabasta, haven't you?"

"What are you getting at?" Crocodile's tone turned icy. He seemed to have guessed her intentions.

"Nothing much," Kaguya leaned forward, rubbing her fingers together with a grin. "Aren't you going to bribe me? I'm very easy to corrupt."

"Bribe you?"

"That's right," Kaguya said cheerfully. "Hand over all the wealth and Devil Fruits you've stolen from Alabasta, and I'll let this go. Sound fair?"

"Hand over everything?" Crocodile growled. "In your dreams."

Without another word, his lower body turned into sand and he surged forward, hook flashing like lightning toward Kaguya.

"Why must you make this difficult?" Kaguya sighed. "You could've just handed it over and saved yourself a beating."

Crocodile laughed angrily. "Then die!"

"Desert Spada!"

His arm transformed into a sharp blade and slashed downward. A razor-sharp wind blade shot from the sand weapon, cutting through the air toward Kaguya.

BOOM!

A thunderous explosion rocked the palace. Dust rained from the ceiling, debris flew in all directions, and a massive hole was blasted into the palace wall.

"You think you're the only one who can use sand?"

A sweet, melodic voice rang out through the smoke and dust.

As the dust cleared, Crocodile's eyes widened.

Kaguya stood there, completely unharmed—not even the sofa behind her had been scratched. Before her stood a barrier made entirely of sand.

Crocodile was stunned. What was this? Could she also have the powers of the Sand-Sand Fruit?

But that was impossible.

There could only be one of each Devil Fruit in the world. No duplicates. If she didn't have a Devil Fruit… how was she controlling sand?

Just then, Kaguya smirked and said, "Let me show you what real sand looks like."

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