Nero regained consciousness in the dark. Everything felt like a surreal dream.
No wonder the little brats called me Rabbit-Brother. It's a pretty fitting nickname now, he thought. But with this power, I finally have the ability to guard what I love. Illidan Stormrage... to think that character from the game actually exists! Then again, I'm living in a manga world now; a world like Warcraft being real isn't such a stretch.
Nero was overwhelmed with emotion. Fate had given him a second chance, along with a power that had no upper limit. What was there left to fear?
"Waaah! Hancock-姐姐, are they going to kill us? Sonia's back hurts so much... and that fruit just now tasted awful. Ah! Scales! Marigold, you have scales on your body!"
"What?! This can't be real! I'm turning into a monster! What do I do? What do I do? Hancock-姐姐, save me! Oh no, Sonia! You have scales too! We're all turning into monsters! That fruit must have been a poison apple made by a witch!"
Watching the two little girls huddled together and crying, Neil—the butler—felt like the arch-villain of a fairy tale. Besides, those two Devil Fruits were incredibly valuable! People would kill to eat them, though he had heard they tasted like garbage.
"Um... could you listen to me for a second?" Neil interjected.
"No! A witch's henchman is never a good person!" The girls glared at him with fierce, teary eyes.
"That was a Devil Fruit. If you eat it, you gain great power."
"So it really IS a devil! Help! We're turning into monsters!"
Neil cursed his luck. He truly felt he had made a terrible decision. These two little brats were more terrifying than Saint Nicholas's pets. Thankfully, the third girl had eaten her fruit silently and remained still, or Neil would have wanted to die right then and there. He had risked his life stealing those fruits just to ensure he survived tomorrow—how did it turn into such a mess?
"Marigold, Sandersonia, don't worry. This man isn't lying to you."
A tall, somewhat lean figure stepped out of the shadows. Neil noticed that the man who had been unconscious was actually quite tall. While he didn't have the bulging, knotted muscles of the typical laborer slaves, he wasn't weak. His body was lithe and agile like a leopard, radiating a subtle, dangerous aura. His face was as elegant as a poet's, and his ears—much longer than a normal human's—didn't ruin his look; they seemed perfectly natural.
Neil found himself dazed. By the time he snapped out of it, the man was already comforting the two weeping girls.
"Be good, it's okay. Nothing bad will happen because you ate those fruits. They just taste terrible, that's all." Nero gently stroked their heads, as if calming two frightened kittens.
"But Brother... Marigold and Sonia have scales. We look like monsters. What if we aren't pretty anymore?"
Women truly are the same at any age, Nero thought. Their appearance is their biggest concern. He couldn't bear to think about what they had endured in the original story—how these girls who valued beauty so much had been forced to become "monsters" just to survive. This only deepened his resolve to protect them.
Seeing the floodgates about to open again, Nero quickly explained: "It's fine. Based on your symptoms, you've eaten Zoan-type Devil Fruits. The scales are just because you haven't controlled your power yet. Close your eyes, feel the strength inside you, and tell the scales to go back."
The two girls hurriedly closed their eyes. Slowly, the scales began to recede.
"Excuse me, sir... I am..." Neil wanted to explain the situation regarding his own life and tomorrow's trial.
"Shut up. Where is the other little one?" Nero's gaze snapped to Neil. For a moment, Neil felt like he was looking into the eyes of an ancient, predatory beast. If he didn't provide a satisfactory answer, he would be killed instantly. With a trembling finger, Neil pointed to the corner of the cell, where a small figure was curled up, shivering.
Hancock was huddled in a ball, trying to find a sliver of warmth. Her sisters might not know what that searing brand on their backs meant, but she understood perfectly. It was a lifelong nightmare. She had seen that mark before—on the mangled corpse of a sister who had gone missing long ago. The older girls on the ship had told her about it: The Hoof of the Soaring Dragon, the mark of the Celestial Dragons' slaves. No one would save them now. Not even the Kuja Pirates could stand against the World Government. A fate worse than death awaited them.
Suddenly, Hancock felt herself lifted into a warm embrace. She looked up to see the gentle, smiling face of the strange "big brother" from the ship.
"It's okay, Hancock. Brother is here. Everything will be fine. Just sleep now. No matter what happens, I will protect you. You don't have to be afraid."
A profound sense of security washed over Hancock. Exhaustion took over, and she drifted into a peaceful sleep in Nero's arms.
"Hancock-姐姐 is so sneaky! Sonia wants a hug too!"
"Marigold wants one too!"
"Shh, your sister is sleeping. Be good. I'll play with you tomorrow. It's late, go to sleep." Nero settled the two younger ones onto the straw and gently laid Hancock down beside them, softly humming a song to lull them to sleep. No one would have guessed that just days ago, they were total strangers.
Neil didn't even dare to breathe. He watched as Nero acted like the world's most tender brother. His instincts told him that a savage beast was hidden inside this man; it was best not to provoke him. Once Nero was finished, poor Neil finally dared to speak.
"Respected sir... may I speak now?"
Nero nodded. "Go ahead. But keep your voice down. Don't wake my sisters."
Neil let out a sigh of relief as if he'd been granted a divine pardon. He tremblingly explained everything. Nero's brow furrowed, then relaxed slightly. It was a blessing in disguise; being a "Combat Slave" was dangerous, but with the Demon Hunter legacy he had inherited, surviving four years was not impossible. If they were used as other types of slaves, he might be fine, but the girls would be in grave danger once they grew up. Without absolute power, beauty was a curse.
"Neil, was it? Although I despise lapdogs of the Celestial Dragons like you, I'll congratulate you—you bet correctly. Consider your life a gift in exchange for the Devil Fruits you brought. Now, get out." Nero looked at the groveling Neil with cold contempt.
"But sir... Saint Nicholas's pets are vicious beasts from across the world. Are you truly certain?" Concerned for his own neck, Neil pressed for an answer.
"As long as you don't hand me a toothpick tomorrow, I'll be fine. Now get out. One more word and I'll take your head." Nero's eyes flashed with a murderous glint.
Neil scrambled away, terrified by the overwhelming pressure Nero radiated. Once he was gone, Nero sighed and dropped the ferocity from his face.
You can't give people like that a kind face, he thought. The worse your attitude, the more they believe in your strength. If you're too nice, they'll look down on you.Since my name is Nero—written as 'Tyrant'—then until we escape this place, I will be a tyrant to everyone except these three girls.
Little did anyone know that the name "The Crimson Tyrant" would soon become synonymous with death in the gladiator pits of the gods.