"Captain Linlin! Look at that! What's the thing that spins and glows by itself?"
Gölz pointed at a merry-go-round in the distance, asking with the excitement of a real little girl.
"That's a carousel, a ride built for children," Charlotte Linlin explained.
Gölz watched the human children laughing on the tiny wooden horses, envy plain in her eyes. She glanced down at her own colossal frame and murmured in disappointment:
"Looks so fun… too bad I'll never fit."
The huge form beside the diminutive horses made a comical, heartbreaking sight.
Charlotte Linlin patted her arm. "Don't worry. We have our own kind of fun. One day we'll build one just for you."
"Really, Linlin? I love you most, Captain!"
Gölz swept Charlotte Linlin up in a joyful hug, her face shining with happiness.
Ripley was far more energetic, her curiosity fixed on every kind of human food.
"Linlin! This smells amazing! Let's buy some and try it!"
"Wow! That rainbow thing looks delicious! Ice cream? Ten of them!"
"This flower-shaped sweet is so pretty I almost hate to eat it… but I will!"
She stormed every stall that caught her eye, enormous fingers delicately pinching treats that looked minuscule to her, beaming as she devoured them.
Charlotte Linlin tasted the local sweets herself, enjoying the country's flavors and the "passion" heavy in the air.
Just then Gölz tugged Linlin's sleeve and pointed to an alley where a man and woman were locked in a heated kiss.
Gölz tilted her huge head, pure puzzlement on her face.
"Linlin, why are those two humans pressing mouths together?"
Charlotte Linlin's mouth twitched. She adjusted her sunglasses and answered evenly:
"That's something only grown-ups do. Children shouldn't ask."
"Oh." Gölz nodded vaguely and obediently said no more.
Yet she couldn't help recalling the safe, happy feeling of holding Linlin in her arms.
Is… this what adults do?
She sneaked a look at her own mature, buxom body, a twelve-year-old mind forming a thought:
I'm… an adult now. So maybe I should hug Linlin more? Or… Her cheeks burned.
The frolic went on, the two giant maidens reveling in their first taste of human civilization… As sunset gilded Dressrosa, a Marine warship nosed into the royal harbor.
A boy barely in his teens stood beside his gentle but anxious father—King Riku Doldo II of Dressrosa—waiting at the pier.
Leading the Marines down the gangway stood Zephyr. Favored by Fleet Admiral Kong, he had just earned promotion to Vice Admiral for repelling the pirate Vander Decken and saving a nation.
In his twenties, broad-shouldered and iron-jawed, Zephyr radiated power even without the justice coat.
Behind him strode Tsuru, statuesque in white, cool composure hidden behind dark glasses.
Several elite staff officers followed, along with a middle-aged Vice Admiral whose forced smile did not mask the cold gleam in his eyes—Vice Admiral Basti.
After brief greetings the old king poured out his woes:
"Vice Admirals Zephyr, Tsuru, Basti—thank heavens you've come! The Supernova rookies pouring into the New World plague our merchants and coasts.
Our mightiest warrior died covering the retreat of innocents, taking a vicious crew with him… Our defenses are spent, we—we…"
Zephyr's face was grave. "King Riku, we know the situation. The Marines will not stand by while an Affiliated Nation suffers.
We will take over security until your strength returns."
Tsuru quietly studied king and prince, weighing the kingdom's true straits.
Basti's smile stayed polite yet impatient, his eyes flicking toward the bustling port with covert greed.
"Many thanks!" the old king exclaimed. "A banquet awaits you—please, refresh yourselves at the palace."
"Your Majesty is too kind," Zephyr answered with a slight bow.
Led by the Riku royals, the Marines set off for the palace… Days later, inside Dressrosa's landmark—the vast Colosseum "Cage of Love and Passion"—the day's bloody revels began.
Roars and stomping feet shook the dome; the air reeked of sweat, dust, and rust.
On the benches Gamblers shouted themselves hoarse:
"No way the 'Horn' snatches the flag today!"
"Why not? He's on fire!"
"Idiot! The flag defender is young Teddy, Duke Ditet's son—the bookmaker's own Childe!
Think they'll let him lose the red flag and the jackpot? It's theater—give the beast hope, then crush it."
"What?! You might've told me sooner—I bet on the Horn!"
"Same here—ruined!"
The know-it-all smirked while losers cursed their fate.
Then a roar drowned every voice:
"He did it! The Horn took the flag!"
"Impossible!"
"Fix! How could little Teddy lose?"
The man who'd sworn the Horn would fail went white, screaming as he realized his life savings were gone.
Nearby, Gamblers who'd heard him earlier leapt in wild delight.
In the arena's center the fifty-meter sand circle had turned dark red.
A five-meter titan with curved horns lay broken in the blood-mire.
A barbed spear jutted from his back; blood still pulsed, turning sand to sludge. Around him the stands thundered, yet his world was silent crimson.
His fading fist clutched a strip of red cloth torn from his foe—the flag.
Vision dimmed, but that scrap of scarlet blazed like the sunset of home, like the smiling face watching him.
'Urti…' he called silently to his wife. 'I… did it… we'll… meet again…'
The great horns slid into the sand; heavy lids closed. The din felt oceans away.
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