North Blue · Avignon Island
"This is the most famous tourist city in the North Blue. Oh, and here's the thing I promised you!"
Standing on the rail of his ship, Doflamingo tossed down a purple melon swirled with Donquixote spirals.
"It's the second fruit we looted this trip. We're pretty sure it's Zoan-type, but it's not in any guidebook."
"So whoever eats it either hits the jackpot… or goes straight to hell?"
Sakura caught the melon and turned the mysterious fruit over in her hands.
"Who knows?" Doflamingo flashed a wicked grin and flicked off the maid-dressed little girl who was wiping snot and tears on his leg.
Sure, he wanted the Weapon fruit in the right hands, but handing this one to Sakura? Pure evil curiosity.
Come on, Haruno Sakura—what'll it be? Find someone you trust and roll the dice… or burn through lives until you figure out what it does?
"Fine. This is goodbye, then. Next time we meet, we're enemies again."
"Fufufu…"
Doflamingo snorted, waved his crew forward, and the flamingo-prowed ship sailed off.
Sakura spread her sea chart and headed the opposite way, toward town.
The North Blue is huge—bigger than the New World in raw square mileage. Hundreds of islands, dozens of nations. Avignon is the biggest dormant-volcano island around here. Hot-springs, mud baths, and fishing villages cover the slopes. It's not a World Government member state, but nobody here looks poor.
"They say the mud's great for your skin… wonder if that's true."
Sakura flipped open the thickest chart she owned—the one she'd "borrowed" from Shanks. It was full of his handwritten travel tips.
She pinched her cheeks. Months of sea wind and sun had tanned her a full shade darker than when she left home.
"No way. I'm fixing this before Mom sees me, or I'll never hear the end of it!"
Fists clenched, the girl shoved open the door of the fanciest spa on the block.
The owner pounced the second she stepped inside.
"Welcome! Right this way!
Which package works for you—4,998, 6,998, or 9,998 berries? Sign up today and get free gifts!"
Wait, even in another world they're pushing scalp-treatment memberships?
"Top-tier mud bath. Cash. No card. Thanks."
Sakura shut him down in three icy words.
Fifteen minutes later she was wrapped in a towel, sinking into perfectly warm, gooey black mud. Volcanic silt, still faintly sulfurous.
She smeared a thick layer over her face, leaned back against the wooden rim, and let her eyes drift shut.
Bathing as a Devil Fruit user is weird. The ash is packed with Pyrobroin particles that sap your strength. She was just wondering whether to fight the limp-noodle feeling when—
"Hey, Corazon, you idiot! Like this stuff can cure me!"
"Give it a try! Maybe the white patches will vanish in one soak."
"Quit treating me like a kid!"
A few pools over, a tall blond guy was wrestling a muddy teenage boy.
The kid—now a writhing mud-ball—roared at the man beside him.
The racket wrecked Sakura's nap. She sat up, green eyes flashing.
"Quiet down! Some of us are trying to relax!"
The blond bonked the kid on the head and dragged him over.
"Sorry about that, miss. We disturbed you."
Sakura opened her eyes… and froze. The boy's arms and neck were covered in unmistakable white patches.
Blond guy + angry spotted kid + symptoms she'd seen in Kulokas's old medical files = instant flashback.
"Hey… that wouldn't be… Lead-Lead Disease, would it?"
Her clear voice echoed.
The spa went dead silent. Then—
Gasps. Screams. Chaos.
People bolted from their tubs, slipping and scrambling for the exits.
"They wiped them all out—how is there still one left?!"
"White Town survivor? I'm gonna catch it!"
"Guards! Disinfectant! Gas masks!"
"Call the government—exterminate the source!"
In ten seconds the place was empty except for the stunned man and the trembling boy.
"Yeah, it's Lead-Lead Disease! So what?!"
Tears in his eyes, fists shaking, the kid stormed up to Sakura.
"I'll infect you right now—just watch!"
He swiped the mud off her face, revealing pink hair and a very familiar features.
"Rosi, stop him!"
The man—Corazon—yanked the boy off the ground by both wrists.
"What the heck, Corazon?! Didn't you see her—"
The kid kicked the air like a furious cat.
"Uh… sorry for blurting out your illness. Didn't mean to clear the room," Sakura said, scratching her cheek. "My bad."
Then, to Corazon's stunned look and the boy's glare, she added, "Hey, big guy. You seem to know who I am. Can I actually cure it?"
Corazon's eyes softened. He switched to honorifics.
"The Red Hair Pirates spread word about your medical skills. Finding you was one of our goals this voyage."
He smiled gently.
"Shanks, that red-headed gossip…"
Sakura's eyebrow twitched; the marble edge of the pool cracked under her grip.
"Please!" Corazon dropped to his knees in the mud, voice breaking. "This kid's got less than a year. Whatever it costs—anything—I'll pay it. Just let him live!"
He bowed so low his forehead touched the wet floor, dignity forgotten.
"'Live,' huh? Powerful word."
Sakura ignored the plea, stood up, rinsed the mud off under a shower, and walked straight to Trafalgar Law.
She towered over the bristling thirteen-year-old, green eyes locked on his.
"Listen up, kid."
She crouched so they were eye-level.
"Tell me—what's your dream?"