What followed felt less like a battle and more like a fever dream stitched together by violence and luck.
Blow after blow landed—
—and yet something kept resetting.
Every time Lázaro thought he had carved away enough of Caeloro's strength to end it, the gambler came back sharper. Faster. Cleaner. The roulette wheel within his Domain spun faster and faster, the clicking noise growing into a manic rhythm that echoed across the arena.
High above them, translucent cards drifted in a slow circular orbit—faces hidden, shuffling endlessly. They had been there since the beginning of the Domain, but now they were accelerating, reshuffling more frequently as the fight intensified.
The longer this dragged on—
The more dangerous Caeloro became.
But Lázaro was evolving too.
The clone created at the very start of the match stood at the edge of the battlefield, silent.
Watching.
With every touch Lázaro made against Caeloro, that original clone subtly thickened in presence. Its reiatsu deepened. Its posture sharpened. It was siphoning the stolen attributes through Lázaro like a secondary reservoir—growing stronger with each exchange.
"This is fun!" Caeloro laughed, launching himself forward again.
He unleashed a flurry of punches, each one cracking the air. Lázaro kept his hands in his pockets, weaving casually, shoulders tilting just enough to let fists whistle past his jaw.
"For a newcomer," Lázaro said mildly, sidestepping an overhead smash that cratered the arena floor, "you are quite good."
Caeloro's leg came down like a guillotine. The impact shattered stone in a wide radius. Had that connected cleanly, it would have crushed a lieutenant's skull without question.
He was getting stronger.
The wheel spun faster.
Suddenly—
"{BALA} ×300."
Three hundred compressed blasts screamed toward Caeloro in a dense storm of light.
His pupils constricted.
He moved.
His body twisted in unnatural angles, spine bending, knees folding, shoulders dipping at impossible degrees. He slipped between the blasts by centimeters, letting them scorch past his skin.
He knew if even a handful landed cleanly, he wouldn't be able to continue.
And he refused to let it end early.
He wanted this to last.
The longer the fight stretched on, the more advantage he gained.
And the same was true for Lázaro.
"You're predictable," Lázaro murmured.
Caeloro's eyes widened.
A palm pressed flat against his chest.
Contact.
Complete.
"Shit."
Four clones materialized instantly behind him.
And everything changed.
His left eye went dark.
His stamina dropped in half.
His speed halved.
His strength halved.
His Reiryoku pool—cut down brutally.
He staggered.
"So... that's what you took from one touch..." he muttered.
He leapt backward, barely avoiding a follow-up strike.
Lázaro looked delighted.
"Oh? Did you think I could only make one clone per touch?"
His grin widened.
"So... you don't just steal powers," Caeloro realized, breathing hard. "You steal everything."
"Ding, ding," Lázaro said cheerfully. "Smart boy."
He gestured lazily.
"You see, envy isn't picky. People envy strength. Intelligence. Beauty. Talent. The way someone walks. The way they breathe."
His eyes gleamed.
"Why limit myself to abilities when human nature offers so much more?"
His smile twisted.
"I've stolen IQ. Reflexes. Instincts. Even thought patterns. If I touch someone and envy it, I can take it."
His gaze sharpened.
"The more gifted you are... the easier it is."
The arena felt colder.
He wasn't exaggerating.
His power weaponized envy itself.
Caeloro stood slowly.
Grinning.
"You can't steal everything."
That caught Lázaro's attention.
"Oh?"
"This whole time," Caeloro said, pointing upward, "you've been stealing my stats."
Above them, the orbiting cards began flipping one by one in the background.
Pair.
Three of a kind.
Discard.
Redraw.
"But you haven't touched my ability."
Lázaro's smile thinned slightly.
"You can steal talent," Caeloro continued, eyes manic, "but you can't steal something ingrained into the soul."
He jerked his thumb toward the original clone.
"That thing has my strength. But none of my skill."
A wild grin spread across his face.
"You can take talent. Not hard work."
For a moment—
Lázaro smiled.
Then he pointed.
The four clones surged forward, beating Caeloro down brutally. Blows rained from every direction. He was overwhelmed, battered, pushed to the brink.
The cards above flipped faster.
Discard.
Redraw.
Flush.
No.
Discard.
Redraw.
His vision blurred.
Blood filled his mouth.
The wheel spun at maximum speed.
And then—
All five cards snapped into place.
Ace.
King.
Queen.
Jack.
Ten.
Same suit.
Royal Flush.
The entire Domain detonated with neon brilliance.
An infinite torrent of Reiryoku flooded into Caeloro's body like a ruptured dam.
Every stolen stat was instantly replenished.
Then overfilled.
His energy didn't just return—
It became limitless.
He stood up laughing.
"Ohhhh, I'm high right now," he breathed.
His wounds sealed.
His aura exploded outward in surging waves.
Lázaro's eyes widened—not in fear.
In fascination.
As he touched Caeloro again, stealing strength, speed, stamina—
Those values dropped.
But it didn't matter.
Because infinite Reiryoku kept pouring into Caeloro's system, compensating instantly.
Even as his raw stats were siphoned away—
He could still output at 100%.
Because the fuel source had no bottom.
Lázaro touched him again.
And again.
Each time, attributes were stolen.
Each time, Caeloro fought as if nothing had changed.
It was illogical.
It was thrilling.
Lázaro began laughing softly.
"So that's what it is," he murmured. "An infinite well."
His excitement grew visibly.
To steal from something inexhaustible—
To test the limits of his own theft against infinity—
It was intoxicating.
The clone in the background swelled further, absorbing massive amounts of siphoned power, becoming a monstrous reflection.
The arena could barely contain the pressure.
They fought like that for what felt like hours.
Infinity against Envy.
Until—
The Royal Flush ended.
The wheel slowed.
The cards dissolved.
The infinite torrent cut off.
And suddenly—
There was a bottom again.
Lázaro touched him once more.
This time—
There was no infinite reserve to compensate.
Caeloro's movements slowed for real.
His knees buckled.
He swung once more—
Missed—
And Lázaro struck cleanly across his jaw.
The impact snapped his head sideways.
His body crumpled.
The Domain collapsed.
Silence returned.
Lázaro stood over him, breathing evenly, eyes bright with lingering exhilaration.
"That," he said softly, "was worth the wait."
A/N placing a bidding vow on MY soul, I will finish this shit, it to close to completion to give up now.
Just got to pump out a few more chapters and I should be good with it...then there the Aizen story. That one I have plenty of idea for it just got to wait for one piece story to enter hiatus.
Ie time skip.