The roar hit him first.
Not the sight. Not the smell. Not even the heat.
The sound.
A thunderous, living wave of voices crashing together inside the massive stone structure known as the Corrida Colosseum.
Giovanni stood at the entrance tunnel, hands in his pockets, eyes half-lidded as if he'd just woken up from a nap instead of being marched into one of the most brutal arenas in the world.
He blinked once.
"…Damn."
The stadium opened before him. Tier after tier of screaming spectators, flags waving, gamblers shouting odds, vendors weaving through the chaos. The sand of the arena floor shimmered under the sunlight pouring in from above.
'So this is it… the place where men try to kill each other for entertainment.'
A slow grin crept onto his face.
'…I kinda like it.'
Behind him, a guard shoved him forward.
"Move, pirate!"
Giovanni stumbled a step, then straightened, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder.
"Relax, man," he muttered. "I was going anyway."
---
The atmosphere shifted the moment he stepped past the gate.
The noise dulled.
The air thickened.
And the eyes…
Dozens of them.
Every fighter present turned, almost instinctively, to look at the newcomer.
Scarred men.
Towering brutes.
Lean killers with eyes that had seen too much.
Weapons clanked softly. Chains rattled. Someone cracked their knuckles.
Giovanni yawned.
"…So this is the lineup?"
No one answered.
Instead—
A massive man with a jagged scar running across his face spat to the side.
"Tch. Another brat."
Another chimed in, voice low and dangerous.
"Doesn't even look like he's fought a real battle."
"Probably some noble's mistake."
"Won't last five minutes."
Giovanni tilted his head slightly.
'Hostile bunch.'
He walked casually past them, ignoring the tension that followed his every step.
He stopped beside a man sharpening a blade.
"Hey," Giovanni said, voice easy. "Where are the changing rooms?"
The man didn't even look up.
Silence.
Giovanni blinked.
"…Hello?"
Nothing.
A third time—
"Oi. I'm talking to—"
The man finally raised his head.
Cold eyes.
No warmth.
No patience.
"…Find it yourself."
Giovanni stared at him for a second.
Then shrugged.
"Alright. No need to be rude."
He turned, hands still in his pockets.
'Guess I'll just wander around.'
He had taken barely three steps when—
Something changed.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't visible.
But it was there.
The air tightened.
A ripple of tension spread through the room like a silent shockwave.
One by one—
The fighters straightened.
Some swallowed.
Others stepped back. Subtly, instinctively.
Even the scarred brute from earlier stiffened.
Giovanni noticed immediately.
"…Hm?"
He glanced around.
'What's this?'
The hostility from before hadn't disappeared—
It had been replaced.
By something else.
Fear.
Footsteps echoed.
Slow.
Heavy.
Deliberate.
Giovanni turned.
And saw him.
A towering figure moving through the corridor like he owned the very ground beneath his feet.
Broad shoulders.
A powerful frame.
A presence that didn't shout, but didn't need to.
Every step carried weight.
Every movement commanded space.
The murmurs began.
"…It's him…"
"…The undefeated…"
"…No way…"
Giovanni's eyes sharpened slightly.
'Oh?'
The man kept walking.
Not looking left.
Not looking right.
As if no one else existed.
As if no one mattered.
Until—
Bump.
They collided.
The impact was light.
Barely anything.
But the room froze.
Giovanni looked up.
The man looked down.
Silence.
For a moment, the entire world seemed to hold its breath.
"…Watch where you're going," Giovanni said casually.
A dangerous murmur spread through the fighters.
"Is he insane…?"
"That's him…!"
"He doesn't know?!"
The man didn't move.
Didn't react.
Just… looked.
Giovanni frowned slightly.
"…What? You gonna say something or just stare?"
Still nothing.
But—
The air grew heavier.
Thicker.
Like invisible pressure pressing down on everything.
Giovanni's eyes narrowed a fraction.
'…Interesting.'
Someone whispered it.
Barely audible.
But it carried.
"…Kyros…"
Another voice followed.
"The undefeated champion…"
"He's never lost…"
"Not once…"
Giovanni's eyebrow lifted.
'Oh. So that's why everyone's acting weird.'
He looked back at the man in front of him.
Then smiled.
"…And?"
Gasps.
Someone actually took a step back.
Kyros' gaze sharpened, just slightly.
For the first time—
There was recognition in it.
Not of who Giovanni was.
But of what he wasn't.
He wasn't afraid.
Giovanni shifted his weight.
"Move."
The fighters around them leaned in, hearts pounding.
This was insane.
This was suicide.
This was—
Kyros didn't move.
The silence stretched.
Then—
Giovanni exhaled.
"…You're in my way, man."
A flicker.
So subtle most wouldn't notice.
But Giovanni did.
'Oh?'
For a split second—
Kyros' presence spiked.
Giovanni's smile widened.
'Now this… is fun.'
The air cracked.
Invisible lines of tension pulling tight—
Ready to snap.
A step.
Another.
The two stood face to face.
No words.
No hesitation.
Just—
Intent.
And then—
"GIOVANNI!"
The spell shattered.
A blur of pink and gold rushed into the scene.
A young girl—
Elegant.
Radiant.
Eyes full of urgency.
She grabbed Giovanni's arm without hesitation.
"Sorry! Sorry! He didn't mean anything!"
The entire room blinked.
"…Huh?"
Giovanni looked down at her.
'…Wait.'
Before he could react—
She clamped a hand over his mouth.
"Don't talk!"
"Mmph—!"
She turned to Kyros, bowing slightly.
"I apologize on his behalf!"
Kyros said nothing.
But the pressure—
It vanished.
Just like that.
Giovanni was already being pulled.
Literally dragged out of the area.
"Hey—! I wasn't done—!"
"No you were!" she snapped, not letting go.
"I didn't even do anything!"
"You were about to!"
"I was just talking!"
"You were about to fight him!"
"…Okay, maybe a little."
She tightened her grip.
"Exactly!"
The fighters watched them go.
Silence lingering.
Then—
Murmurs exploded.
"That idiot…"
"He almost fought Kyros…"
"And lived…"
"Who is he…?"
As they disappeared down the corridor, one fighter whispered with admiration—
"…That was Princess Scarlett…"
Another nodded.
"Of course she'd step in…"
"She saved his life…"
Back in the holding area—
Kyros stood still.
Watching the direction they left.
For a long moment—
He said nothing.
Did nothing.
Then—
A single drop of sweat rolled down his temple.
His eyes narrowed.
'…Impossible.'
His hand clenched slightly.
'That pressure…'
A pause.
'…I was…'
He exhaled slowly.
'…afraid?'
His gaze hardened.
Fixing on the empty corridor.
'Who… are you?'
---
The roaring heart of the Corrida Colosseum only grew louder as the crowd swelled in anticipation.
Flags waved.
Coins clinked.
Voices rose into a chaotic symphony of excitement and bloodlust.
"WELCOME, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"
The announcer's voice boomed across the arena.
"THE FIRST MATCH OF THE DAY IS ABOUT TO BEGIN!"
High above the arena floor, a group of very familiar figures settled into the spectator seats.
Red hair caught the sunlight.
A lazy grin stretched across his face.
"Man…" Shanks leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "This place never changes."
Beside him, Benn Beckman exhaled slowly, lighting a cigarette.
"It's worse," he muttered. "More people. More idiots."
Lucky Roo was already chewing on something.
"When does Giovanni fight?" he asked through a mouthful.
Yassop adjusted his rifle casually against his shoulder, scanning the arena.
"Soon," he said. "They're lining up the first wave."
Limejuice crossed his arms, leaning back slightly.
"Think he'll behave?"
A beat.
Then—
"No."
Everyone answered at the same time.
Shanks laughed.
"Yeah… no chance."
Bonk Punch rested his massive frame against the railing, arms folded.
"That kid…" he rumbled. "He's gotten stronger."
Monster chirped beside him in agreement.
Hongo, quiet as ever, adjusted his glasses.
"Reckless," he said simply.
Beckman nodded.
"Too reckless."
Shanks tilted his head slightly, smile softening just a bit.
"…But that's his charm."
Yassop scoffed.
"Charm?" he said. "He causes chaos everywhere he goes."
"Exactly," Shanks replied.
A group of gamblers nearby shouted out odds.
"NEW FIGHTER! UNKNOWN PIRATE! LOW ODDS!"
"PUT YOUR BETS DOWN!"
Shanks' eyes lit up instantly.
"Oh?"
He stood up immediately.
"I'm betting on Giovanni."
Beckman didn't even look at him.
"Of course you are."
Yassop grinned, already pulling out coins.
"Same here."
Limejuice raised a brow.
"You two are really that confident?"
Shanks shot him a look.
"You're not?"
Limejuice hesitated.
"…I mean—"
"He's winning," Yassop cut in. "No question."
Lucky Roo nodded mid-bite.
"Mhm."
Bonk Punch gave a slow thumbs up.
Hongo sighed.
"…I'll abstain."
Shanks laughed.
"Suit yourself."
He slapped a heavy pouch of coins onto the betting counter.
"Put it all on him."
The bookie blinked.
"…All?"
Shanks grinned wider.
"All."
---
The door slammed open.
Giovanni stumbled forward and was promptly shoved into a chair.
"Sit!"
He blinked.
"…Damn."
He leaned back casually, looking up at the person standing in front of him.
Pink hair.
Fiery eyes.
Hands on hips.
Princess Scarlett looked absolutely furious.
Giovanni smiled lazily.
"…You know," he said, stretching slightly in the chair, "I didn't know princesses could be this kinky."
A pause.
"I'm usually not into this kind of stuff…"
He tilted his head, grin widening.
"But if it's what you prefer, I wouldn't mind—"
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"
Her voice exploded through the room.
Giovanni blinked.
"…A lot of things, probably."
Scarlett pointed at him, trembling with frustration.
"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO THAT WAS?!"
Giovanni scratched his cheek.
"…Yeah?"
"WHO?!"
"That undefeated guy."
Silence.
Her eye twitched.
"THAT UNDEFEATED GUY?!"
She paced back and forth.
"That's Kyros! The strongest gladiator in Dressrosa! He has NEVER lost!"
Giovanni nodded.
"Yeah, you mentioned that."
"And you were about to FIGHT him!"
"Yeah."
"YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN SERIOUSLY INJURED!"
Giovanni tilted his head.
"…Nah."
She froze.
"…What?"
"I said nah."
He stretched his arms behind his head.
"I could've beaten him."
Dead silence.
Then—
"…You're lying."
Giovanni blinked.
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm not."
"You are!"
"I'm not."
She stomped her foot.
"YOU ARE!"
Giovanni sighed.
"…Why does no one believe me?"
Scarlett turned away, arms crossed tightly.
"…You're a joke."
Giovanni raised a brow.
"A joke?"
"Yes," she snapped. "A sorry excuse for a pirate."
"Ouch."
"You talk big, but you have no idea how strong he is!"
Giovanni smiled slightly.
"…And you have no idea how strong I am."
She scoffed.
"Please. You couldn't beat him."
"I could."
"No, you couldn't."
"I could."
"No—"
"Okay, this is going in circles," Giovanni interrupted.
Scarlett took a deep breath.
Then turned back to him, expression serious now.
"…Just don't get yourself killed."
Giovanni blinked.
"…Huh?"
She looked away slightly.
"…You still have to repay your debt to my family."
A pause.
Then—
Giovanni smiled.
"…Got it."
He stood up from the chair, stretching lazily.
"By the way…"
Scarlett glanced back at him.
"What?"
He pointed toward the racks of equipment lining the room.
"…Can I get one of those?"
She followed his gaze.
Armor.
Helmets.
Weapons.
The full gladiator setup.
Giovanni's eyes sparkled slightly.
"…You know," he said, "the full package."
Scarlett blinked.
"…You want armor?"
"Yeah."
"…Why?"
He grinned.
"Because it looks cool."
A long pause.
Then—
She sighed.
"…Over there."
She pointed toward the costume section.
"Knock yourself out."
She turned, walking toward the door.
"Try not to embarrass yourself."
Giovanni waved lazily.
"No promises."
The door shut behind her.
Alone
Silence filled the room.
Giovanni turned slowly.
Eyes scanning the racks.
Armor gleamed under the light.
Swords lined the walls.
Helmets of every shape and size.
A grin spread across his face.
"…Don't mind if I do."
He stepped forward.
Reaching out—
As the noise of the colosseum roared louder in the distance.
The stage was set.
And Giovanni…
Was about to make an entrance.
---
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