One Piece : From Slave to Fleet Admiral Chapter 2 2

From that instant, Jake considered Monet his sole confidante in this existence. In the original narrative, Monet met her end just prior to activating the detonator. However, due to a simple piece of bread, Jake became resolute in altering her destiny. A bird that craves liberty should not be shuttled from one enclosure to another. Her entire life, she had existed solely for Doflamingo. But Jake firmly believed their immediate objective was to break free from their current confinement. Based on the overheard discussions of their captors, two infamous pirates, each bearing a bounty of 5 million berries, were slated to arrive tonight for the transfer of this slave contingent. This presented their prime opportunity for escape. Once at sea, even if they managed to overcome their adversaries, the absence of navigation skills and sufficient strength would render their survival a mere waiting game for death. Thus, a land-based escape was paramount, followed by procuring a means to reach the nearest island, where they could board another vessel and vanish from these perilous waters! The imposing guard exhibited an air of nonchalance, as if aware it was his final day on duty. His demeanor was notably more relaxed than usual, even to the point of leaving his ubiquitous longsword resting on a nearby table rather than secured at his hip. He seemed to have been indulging in drink—or more accurately, heavy drinking. The unmistakable cheap aroma of alcohol permeated his collar and sleeves. With his face somewhat flushed from exhilaration, the burly man approached the prison cell. His small, bloodshot eyes surveyed the vicinity, seeking a quarry that might afford him a night of indulgence and ease. Regrettably, within this lowest-tier cell, the majority of the slaves were grievously emaciated, their countenances pale and gaunt, their bodies exuding an overpowering stench of filth. Even for an individual of his disposition, not known for being particularly discerning, it was a difficult sight to endure. Yet, the guard, identified as Bell, had certainly overindulged today. That accursed liquor invariably ignited a fiery heat within his system. Consequently, after downing another generous swig of potent spirits, he flung open the cell door! As the cloying odor of alcohol flooded the confined space, the imprisoned slaves displayed sheer terror—particularly the female captives, who huddled together, desperately trying to vanish from the burly man's gaze, silently imploring not to be selected. Fortunately, the inebriated Bell merely cast a cursory glance at the women. The repulsive stench emanating from them caused his features to contort in disgust. Irritated, he ran a hand through his hair, his eyes restlessly scanning the area. The internal heat generated by the alcohol fueled his urgent desire to find someone who could offer him immediate gratification. After a diligent sweep, Bell finally discerned Jake and Monet tucked away in an overlooked corner of the cell. A predatory gleam flickered in Bell's narrow, clouded eyes. Without a moment's delay, he advanced, unceremoniously shoving aside any slaves who lacked the swiftness to evade him. In short order, he towered over Jake and Monet, his overwhelming, alcohol-infused breath washing over them. At such close proximity, his formidable musculature appeared even more daunting and grotesque. Monet's hands clenched involuntarily. Jake could feel the fabric of his own attire straining under the force of her grip. Observing this, Jake resolved to take a gamble. He stepped forward, positioning himself to shield the majority of Monet's form behind him, all while preparing to address the man—to say anything, really, just to occupy the time until the transfer was complete. Witnessing Jake's maneuver, the man's face contorted into a disturbing smirk. His coarse, dark cheeks suddenly flushed a deep red—whether from the drink or some other emotion, it was difficult to ascertain. In the subsequent instant, he reached out, his colossal hand lunging directly at Jake. Fixated on the immense limb, Jake's expression grew solemn. Monet closed her eyes, succumbing to despair, too petrified to contemplate the horrific fate that awaited them should they be apprehended. Yet, the anticipated agony never materialized. Monet's eyes fluttered open in sheer astonishment, only to witness Jake being hoisted into the air by Bell's hands. At that precise moment, Jake, Monet, and even the slaves who had been silently observing were all rendered immobile by shock. Bell's face deepened in its flush as he gazed upon Jake, his lips stretching into a terrifying rictus of a grin. "You smell so good, little guy!" "You're different from the others here. You smell so nice, and your skin is so smooth. I really like you, hehehehe~" Bell embraced Jake tightly, emitting a peculiar, unsettling chuckle. This unforeseen progression caught every individual present completely off guard—even Jake himself had never imagined such a turn of events. The man's arms encircling him felt akin to iron restraints, his muscles as unyielding as solid rock. No matter the extent of Jake's struggles, they proved entirely futile! "Stop struggling, pretty boy. Just get through tonight and I'll make sure you get a private room on that slave ship. You should know—if you're locked in the bottom deck, you'll likely die from all kinds of diseases before reaching the destination!" "Honestly, if I didn't owe the boss some money, I'd buy you for myself. Then I could—" Before Bell could conclude his statement, a trembling female voice interjected.

"Release Jake at once! He is a prized slave, is he not? Should the higher-ups discover your insubordination, you will face severe consequences!"

Bell's head snapped around at the sound of the voice, spotting Monet standing firm despite a slight tremor in her form.

Ordinarily, such a warning might have given Bell pause. However, in his current state, inebriated and with his reason drowned by alcohol, pure fury consumed him entirely.

His muscles coiled, he whipped his arm with immense force, bellowing.

"Begone from my sight, woman!"

A direct hit from that blow would have undoubtedly reduced Monet to a bloody mess!

The ferocious torrent of air even ripped Monet's spectacles from her face, unveiling her stunning eyes, now wide with sheer terror.

But in the very next instant, the distinct sound of tearing flesh reverberated, signaling the gruesome severing of a mighty limb.