Sabaody Archipelago.
The hull of the Wave Rider slowly approached the port of Sabaody Archipelago, revealing a peculiar sight before them. The ground of the harbor was covered with a natural layer of Archipelago Mangrove resin, from which countless translucent bubbles emerged—some floating into the sky, others rolling along the ground. Sunlight refracted through the bubbles, casting a dazzling array of colors.
"Wow! Why is the ground so sticky?" Mikita exclaimed as soon as the group stepped onto the island, testing the surface with her foot. Sure enough, her shoe was coated with a layer of transparent resin, stretching into thin strands when she lifted it.
"Ugh, gross!" Porche crouched beside her, poking at one of the rolling bubbles with her finger. The bubble burst lightly upon contact, and she gasped in amazement. "There are so many bubbles! They float so high—it's incredible!"
Ryan's fingers brushed against the hilt of the Seven Star Sword at his waist, his gaze flickering.
Though he had long known about the unique properties of Sabaody Archipelago, seeing the bubbles and sticky ground in person still stirred something within him. After all, no screen could compare to the awe of witnessing it firsthand.
His eyes inadvertently swept over Boa Hancock beside him. Her hands were clenched tightly around the hem of her clothes, her usually cold and proud profile now pale. Her deep blue eyes churned with complex emotions—disgust, fear...
"What's the matter?" Ryan raised an eyebrow, his tone laced with casual mockery. "No feelings about returning to Sabaody after all this time?"
Hancock whipped her head toward him, fury nearly erupting from her eyes. "You brought me here on purpose," she hissed through gritted teeth. "You deliberately mentioned those things just to watch me suffer, to see me bow my head like a dog to you, didn't you?"
Mary Geoise loomed directly above these islands—a place Hancock never wanted to set foot in again. Yet this man, fully aware of what Mary Geoise meant to her, fully aware that the Hoof of the Flying Dragon brand was her lifelong shame, chose to rip open the wound at this very moment.
Just like on the ship, he always took pleasure in humiliating her in the cruelest ways, saying the most degrading things, all to wear down the pride of the Pirate Empress until she submitted completely.
"Bingo. Correct." Ryan didn't bother hiding it. His gaze lingered on Hancock's face—flushed with anger yet still breathtakingly beautiful—as a faint smirk curled his lips. "So, will the Empress lower her head willingly?"
"In your dreams!" Hancock nearly snarled, her stunning face twisted with undisguised hatred and defiance. "I'd rather die than bow to a bastard like you who tramples on others' dignity!"
Ryan chuckled softly but said nothing more. After all, if the mighty Pirate Empress yielded so easily, it wouldn't be nearly as fun. There was plenty of time to play with her.
"Lucci, take a few men and get the ship coated," Ryan said, turning to Rob Lucci standing nearby. "As a former CP9 agent, you should be familiar with Sabaody's coating workshops, right?"
Rob Lucci gave a slight nod, his expression indifferent. With a glance at Kaku and Jabura, he led the group back onto the Wave Rider. The ship soon set off again, heading toward the coating area deeper in the harbor.
"Let's take a stroll around the island first," Ryan said, not giving Hancock a chance to react before wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her forcefully against him. His tone was teasing. "Time for you to appreciate the scenery."
Hancock struggled to push him away, but the Seastone cuffs on her wrists left her powerless. She could only be half-dragged along, her cheeks burning under the curious gazes of passersby. Humiliation and rage churned inside her, but she could only grit her teeth.
This man always forced her into the most degrading situations, leaving her no room to resist.
........
Time flew by, and three days passed in the blink of an eye.
Inside a luxurious hotel suite, Ryan lounged on a leather sofa, a lit cigar between his fingers. He took a slow drag, his eyes fixed on Boa Hancock kneeling before him. A smirk played on his lips. "You're getting better at this."
Over the past three days, Ryan hadn't done much else—just spent the days and nights playing with Hancock and the others. The sheer panic on her face when he suggested involving Mikita and Porche had been irresistible.
Of course, he hadn't actually gone through with it. The Hoof of the Flying Dragon on her back was her deepest shame, and forcing her to expose it in front of the others would have broken her completely.
This was about conditioning, not breaking her. The slower, the sweeter.
Now, Hancock kept her head lowered, her long black hair obscuring most of her face, revealing only a flushed neck. No matter how much resentment and fury boiled inside her, all that escaped was quiet submission.
This man knew her weakness too well. Every time she resisted, he threatened to expose the mark on her back—the ultimate humiliation.
From the first time she was forced to submit on the ship, things she once swore she would never do, humiliations she thought unbearable, had gradually become routine. Even now, though she hated him with every fiber of her being, her body obeyed without protest.
Ryan watched her silent defiance, flicking the ash from his cigar before pinching her puffed cheek teasingly. "No need to look so tense. You're not escaping me anyway. Wouldn't it be easier if you just behaved? Less suffering for you, less trouble for me—everyone wins."
Hancock didn't answer. Instead, she slowly raised her head, her deep blue eyes—once filled with cold arrogance—now locked onto Ryan with nothing but futile stubbornness.
Unbeknownst to her, this last shred of defiance only fueled Ryan's ruthlessness. In the end, she was the one who suffered the most.
The power of a gaze was truly extraordinary.
Just then, the door opened quietly. Zala walked in, dressed in casual clothes, her hips swaying lazily with each step.
As soon as she entered, her eyes swept over Hancock, taking in the sight of the once-indomitable Pirate Empress kneeling in submission beside Ryan. A flicker of emotion passed through her gaze, but she quickly schooled her expression and approached Ryan as if nothing were amiss.
"Captain," Zala said, bending slightly at the waist. "The Wave Rider's coating is complete. The workshop said we can depart for Fish-Man Island anytime."
Ryan showed no surprise. The Thousand Sunny of the Straw Hat Pirates had also taken three days to coat at Sabaody. Though the Wave Rider was slightly larger, the island's coating craftsmen were efficient. Three days was expected.
"Got it," Ryan said casually. "Tell the others to prepare for departure. Have them gather on the ship."
Though the bubbles and resin of Sabaody were fascinating, Ryan was far more interested in Fish-Man Island—the so-called paradise for men. The dazzling underwater scenery, the unique culture of mermaids and Fish-Men—it was far more enticing than anything here.
"Understood, Captain." Zala turned to leave, her gaze lingering imperceptibly on Hancock's rigid form. A trace of something unreadable flashed in her eyes before she stepped out, closing the door softly behind her and sealing the room in silence once more.
Ryan looked down at Hancock, still holding her defiant pose. His smirk deepened as he cupped the back of her neck, his voice laced with deliberate mischief. "We're about to leave. But before we go... I'll need you to work a little harder."
"Don't struggle. It'll be over soon." Feeling her resistance, Ryan tightened his grip, pulling her closer with undeniable authority. "Can't delay our schedule, after all."
The air in the room grew thick. Outside, bubbles drifted against the window, bursting softly—their faint sounds drowned out by Hancock's stifled gasps. Her hands clenched Ryan's sleeves, but she could only surrender, her last shred of defiance melting away in the familiar humiliation.
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