Mary Geoise's history of slavery has endured for more than eight hundred years. Over such a span of time, humanity's threshold for excitement inevitably rises.
Perhaps in the earliest days, this arena hosted nothing more than controlled duels between Slaves.
But gradually, it evolved.
Humans against beasts.
Devil Fruit users against the powerless.
Comrades forced to slaughter comrades.
Even kin turned upon kin.
The match unfolding below was a confrontation between a Devil Fruit user and an ordinary human.
The ability user possessed a Zoan-type Devil Fruit the Ushi Ushi no Mi, Model: Ox. Even in its standard form, it granted enhanced physical strength and endurance. Against an opponent with no Haki training and no Fruit ability, the difference was overwhelming.
Yet the Ox-man did not rush to end it.
He understood the tastes of the nobles above.
Victory alone was not enough.
Entertainment required suffering.
The non-ability user stumbled frantically across the blood-stained sand, terror distorting his face. His breathing was ragged, his movements uncoordinated.
The Ox-man followed at an unhurried pace.
Occasionally, he flicked his wrist.
A slash.
A strip of flesh torn free.
He was not killing his opponent.
He was peeling him alive.
Blood blossomed across the arena floor, splattering into the sand like crimson lotuses blooming in a desert.
From the golden private box above, the scene resembled abstract art.
Black pushed open the tall French windows.
In an instant, the roar of the arena flooded the room.
"Ox!"
"Idiot! Fight back! I put money on you!"
"Ox! Tear him apart!"
The noise was frenzied, ecstatic.
Black turned to glance at Robin and Perona. Both girls looked pale.
He smiled faintly.
"It's normal to feel uncomfortable."
"Even I, after more than ten years in the Holy Land, cannot fully adapt to this… atmosphere."
Robin looked up sharply.
"If that's true… then why not change it?"
Black stepped out onto the balcony. His gloved hand rested upon the ivory railing. He tapped lightly against the inlaid gemstones.
"Every gem you see here. Every thread of gold."
"They were bought with someone's dream of 'improvement.'"
He gestured toward the arena.
By now, the Ox-man's opponent was little more than a blood-soaked skeleton barely clinging to life.
Moments later, the victor ascended the steps toward a pink-haired female Celestial Dragon of the Donquixote Family.
Before the nobles, he knelt.
Then, without hesitation, he lowered his head and licked the dust from the tip of her shoe.
Black's voice was calm.
"That is the true face of this world."
Robin stared at the sight below.
"The discomfort you feel," Black continued, "comes from thinking as someone beneath them."
"Imagine you were that little Donquixote girl."
"Wouldn't this scene thrill you?"
Robin had read countless books in Ohara, but knowledge and experience were not the same. Her values, though sharp, were not yet immovable.
Almost involuntarily, she followed his line of reasoning.
Placed herself in that position.
From above instead of below.
A faint, nearly imperceptible tremor ran through her body.
It was instinct.
Humans, as apex predators, possess cruelty buried deep within. Civilization teaches restraint.
The Celestial Dragons, however, had no need for restraint.
They were the law.
Had Black not retained memories from his previous life, perhaps he would already be indistinguishable from the others of the Twenty Families.
He handed Robin a wine glass filled with dark red liquid.
"You are fortunate."
"By staying beside me, you have already gained the chance to stand above others."
"You may learn to drink blood from a golden goblet."
"Or you may become the blood inside it."
"That is the logic of this world."
The words were both instruction and self-affirmation.
Robin looked down at the wine in her hand.
After a long pause, she raised it and took a small sip.
Black's lips curved faintly.
Worldviews were not reshaped in a single day.
But seeds could be planted.
For now, that was enough.
…
After leaving the arena, the three women's reactions diverged.
Stella, who had long since formed her own complete understanding of the world, was the most deeply shaken.
She had once worn chains herself.
It was impossible for her not to imagine her own body on that blood-soaked sand.
Robin's expression returned to its usual composure, though what thoughts moved behind her eyes remained unreadable.
Perona was uncharacteristically quiet.
She enjoyed mischief and teasing, but she was not cruel.
And at her age, she could not yet process what she had witnessed.
Back at the manor, Black noticed Stella's distraction. The easy smile she often wore had vanished.
He understood the cause.
Yet he did not offer comfort.
What Celestial Dragon would concern himself with a Slave's wounded emotions?
Even if he cared for Stella, he would not display it in a way that diminished his position.
After a moment, he spoke casually.
"You two may play. Do not leave the manor grounds."
"Stella. Come with me."
There were ways to quiet turmoil that required no words.
…
Sunlight filtered through tall stained-glass windows, breaking into blue and violet fragments that spilled across the mother-of-pearl inlaid desk.
The scent of incense drifted in from the distant greenhouse, mingling with faint floral perfume.
Gold embroidery shimmered along Black's cuffs as he moved, vine patterns seeming almost alive in the shifting light.
His hand came to rest at Stella's shoulder.
The contact was steady. Grounding.
No commands. No spectacle.
Only silence.
Outside, the fountain in the terrace courtyard continued its steady rhythm, water striking marble in soft intervals.
Gradually, Stella's uneven breathing slowed.
The tension in her shoulders eased.
For a moment, the world beyond the manor walls the arena, the chains, the screams felt distant.
When at last she opened her eyes, the fractured light from the stained glass had shifted across the floor.
The turmoil in her gaze had dulled, replaced by something quieter.
The crumpled folds of fabric near the chaise lay undisturbed, like waves that had risen and fallen without sound.
Outside, Mary Geoise remained unchanged.
Inside the manor, silence settled once more.