Miss Wednesday immediately responded to Gojo's question, voice tight with urgency.
"Yes—definitely. I want to make a deal with you for sparing his life."
With a flick of his wrist, Gojo slid his sword away from Igram's neck, the sword gleaming for a heartbeat before disappearing into its sheath. Then, almost casually, he reached up and removed his blindfold. His sky-blue eyes locked directly onto Miss Wednesday's gaze, sharp and unguarded.
"If you're willing to make a deal," he said calmly, "then I'll let him live. How about this? He wanted to capture me for my bounty, right? Then let's settle on the same amount as my bounty—fifty million berries. If you can give me that much money, I'll spare his life. But if you can't…" His tone hardened as he tilted his head toward the helpless Igram. "Then he dies."
Miss Wednesday froze for a moment, stunned—not only by his words but by the startling clarity of those eyes. For just a fleeting instant, she forgot the danger of the situation entirely, dazzled by Gojo's unnervingly handsome face and those beautiful eyes.
But the admiration shattered the moment she processed his demand.
"F-fifty million berries!?" she burst out, almost screaming. "Do you know how much money that is!?"
Gojo didn't flinch.
"Of course I know," he replied, tone dry and edged with irritation. "Do you think I'm some kind of fool? I'm not bargaining with you over the price. My offer is straightforward. You bring me fifty million berries, and I'll spare this man. If not…" He stepped closer, letting the weight of his words sink in.
"He dies. So make your choice."
Miss Wednesday caught herself biting at her nails, nerves twisting her stomach into knots.
She knew she had no choice but to accept Gojo's terms. She had witnessed firsthand just how decisive he was—how quickly he could go from casual to lethal. Gojo wasn't merely dangerous; he was ruthlessly efficient, a man who could kill without so much as a flinch. He wore a blindfold most of the time, yet somehow his presence made it clear—he saw more than most people ever could.
But as she watched him now, Miss Wednesday realized it wasn't exactly ruthlessness.
It was indifference.
Gojo didn't seem to care whether a person lived or died. If he killed someone, that was simply how events played out. If he spared them, it was only because he chose to—not out of mercy, but convenience. That cold detachment made him even scarier. If she annoyed him or made one wrong move, who was to say he wouldn't kill her too?
Finally swallowing her fear, Miss Wednesday forced herself to speak.
"Okay," she said, voice trembling despite her best efforts, "I am willing to pay you fifty million berries to spare the life of Mr. 8."
Gojo nodded, expression unreadable.
"Very well," he replied. "Go arrange the money. And don't even think about running. If you try…" He leaned in just slightly, voice turning chillingly matter-of-fact.
"I'll know."
But before Miss Wednesday could respond to Gojo's threat, a sudden whistling sound cut through the air.
A heartbeat later—BOOM!
Something slammed into the ground at the centre of the group, kicking up dirt and debris. The force of the explosion tore a crater into the earth, and a thick cloud of smoke erupted around them, swallowing everyone—Gojo, Mr. 8, Miss Wednesday, Mr. 9, Miss Monday, and the few battered bounty hunters still conscious.
For a moment, all anyone could hear was ringing and coughing.
As the smoke thinned and the dust settled, two silhouettes took shape—slowly sharpening into a man and a woman standing confidently in the clearing.
Miss Monday's eyes widened in shock, and she gasped, voice pitching high,
"MR. 5 AND MISS VALENTINE! THEY'RE HERE!"
Relief washed across the battered group like a wave.
Mr. 9 let out a shaky breath and stumbled forward, wiping soot from his face.
"Thank goodness! Mr. 5, deal with these two! Their bounties are massive, and we can't stop them!"
Miss Wednesday, Mr. 8, and the remaining hunters wore the same pleading, hopeful expressions—like drowning men spotting a lifeboat.
But Mr. 5 only snorted in disgust.
"We're not here to save you," he said flatly. "If you can't even take down a couple of pirates from the weakest sea, then you're useless."
His gaze swept across the trembling Baroque agents with icy disdain.
"We have a different mission. There is a traitor inside Baroque Works."
Miss Valentine floated lightly beside him, umbrella resting on her shoulder as she smiled sweetly—and chillingly.
"We're here to eliminate the princess of a kingdom," Mr. 5 finished, voice ringing with cold finality,
"who dared infiltrate our organization."
As soon as those damning words left Mr. 5's mouth, Miss Wednesday and Mr. 8 stiffened—fear flashing openly across their faces.
He's talking about us, both realized instantly.
Miss Wednesday's heartbeat thundered in her ears. It seems we've been discovered.
Igaram—Mr. 8—arrived at the same grim conclusion, sweat forming on his brow.
Mr. 5 didn't bother to draw out the tension.
In one smooth motion, he pulled a photo from his coat, holding it for all to see. Then he turned the photo directly toward Miss Wednesday and spoke her name with deadly precision.
"Right… Princess Vivi of the Alabasta Kingdom?"
Gasps rippled through the remaining Baroque Works agents.
The revelation hit like another explosion.
Miss Wednesday—a princess? Impossible. Unthinkable. Yet the evidence stared them in the face.
Igaram knew the moment had come. Their cover was ruined beyond repair. And only one thing mattered now—Vivi's escape.
Despite the injuries Gojo had inflicted minutes earlier, Igaram forced his injured body upright. His resolve hardened, and he stepped between Vivi and their would-be executioners.
"You will never capture Princess Vivi!" he shouted, voice ringing with conviction. "Not while I still draw breath!"
He squared his shoulders and declared with righteous pride,
"I am Igaram, Captain of the Alabasta Royal Guard! As long as I live, no harm will ever befall my princess!"
Then he spun toward Vivi—no hesitation left in his eyes.
"Princess, run! Immediately! I will hold them off!"
As soon as Miss Valentine heard Igaram's desperate declaration, she burst into giggles—light, airy, and cruel.
"Hahaha! Do you really think you can escape from us?" she mocked, twirling her umbrella. "You'll never get away. Not one of you."
The tension snapped tight.
Vivi was poised to sprint.
Igaram braced himself, ready to sacrifice his life without hesitation.
Mr. 5's fingers twitched ready to take out his boogie.
Miss Valentine shifted her weight, preparing to jump.
And then—
Gojo broke the moment.
He stuck a finger in his ear and twisted it lazily, as though bored by the entire life-or-death situation.
"Wow. How much do you guys talk?"
Everyone froze—if only from confusion.
Gojo turned fully toward Mr. 5 and Miss Valentine, expression flat, almost annoyed.
"Listen up, you two," he said. "I've already made a deal with this young lady. She owes me fifty million berries. Until she pays up, I can't let you kill her. Bad business etiquette."
He shrugged as though discussing the weather rather than lives hanging in the balance.
"Of course, if you two want to pay me the fifty million instead, feel free. Then you can kill them both. Doesn't matter to me."
Silence followed—stunned, incredulous, borderline offended.
Then both assassins turned their attention fully to Gojo.
Miss Valentine's eyes narrowed, recognition flickering like a spark.
A slow, unsettling smile tugged at her lips.
"So you're that handsome man everyone's been whispering about," she purred. "Gojo Satoru, right? All the women are talking about you." She tilted her head, laughter bubbling up again.
"You'd make such a cute pet. Hahaha!"
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