One Piece: Undying Dream

But Salazar... Salazar would experiment, extract, reduce a human being to components for his vials.

Without conscious thought, Roku was moving again, retracing his path toward the southern harbor. His newfound sense guided him, allowing him to sense danger before he saw it—a falling wall here, a group of armed guards there. He moved like water, flowing around obstacles, leaping over debris, springboarding off shoulders and heads with effortless agility. His body responding with a precision that might have surprised him if he'd had time to think about it.

The jungle was in flames now, thick smoke billowing into the sky. Roku pulled his tattered shirt over his mouth and nose as he entered the burning treeline, eyes stinging from the heat and ash. The strange awareness still guided him, leading him unerringly toward Jiro's flickering presence.

14:14 - Field Clearing (Southern Sector)

He found them in a small clearing near the edge of the jungle, alarmingly close to where Roku had first spotted the pirates. Jiro was on his knees, hands bound behind his back. Blood trickled from a gash on his forehead, but his eyes were alert, darting frantically between his captor and the destruction spreading across the island.

Salazar stood behind him, one gloved hand resting almost gently on Jiro's shoulder. The warlord looked remarkably composed given the circumstances—his white coat spotless, his movements unhurried as he arranged various vials in a small case. A pair of his Handlers stood nearby, their faces hidden behind thick masks as they kept watch.

Roku crouched low in the underbrush, assessing the situation. The Handlers were armed with the strange stun batons Salazar had designed—weapons that could paralyze with a single touch. Salazar himself carried no visible weapons, but Roku knew the man's gloves concealed countless delivery mechanisms for his toxins.

He couldn't take them head-on. Not all three at once. He would need to be smart, create a distraction, separate them somehow—

"Come out, little fighter," Salazar's voice cut through Roku's planning, soft and precise. "I know you're there."

Jiro's head snapped up, eyes widening as they frantically searched the tree line. "Roku! Don't! It's a trap!"

Salazar's hand tightened on Jiro's shoulder, drawing a pained gasp from the boy. "Indeed it is. But an unnecessary one, it seems. Our young champion was coming to the rescue regardless." His pale eyes scanned the jungle, showing no concern for the flames steadily encroaching on all sides. "You've always been fascinatingly predictable in your unpredictability, Subject 6."

Roku remained motionless, hardly daring to breathe. How had Salazar sensed him? He was downwind, silent, hidden from view.

"Your continued resistance is pointless," Salazar continued, sounding almost bored. "The island is lost. My colleagues have likely already abandoned it, taking what treasures and slaves they could salvage. But I..." He smiled, the expression never reaching his eyes. "I have a different priority. You see, I've been studying you for quite some time, Roku. Your recovery rate. Your adaptability. Your increasingly impressive combat awareness."

He patted Jiro's head like one might pet a dog. "And now, it seems, your loyalty. A fascinating trait in one raised without family bonds. I had to test it, of course. Hence your friend's current predicament."

Jiro struggled against his bonds, earning another painful squeeze from Salazar. "Don't listen to him! Run, Roku! Get to a ship!"

Salazar sighed, removing a small vial from his pocket. "I tire of this game. Perhaps this will speed things along."

The vial contained a viscous green liquid that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light. Salazar removed the stopper with his teeth, then held the vial over Jiro's head.

"This compound is quite fascinating," he explained conversationally. "It begins by attacking the nervous system—starting with the extremities and working inward. The pain is... extraordinary, from what my subjects have told me in their more coherent moments. A single drop on the skin is enough to begin the process. The entire vial?" He shrugged. "Well, I've never actually administered such a large dose. It would be interesting to observe the results."

Roku's mind raced. If he revealed himself, he'd be facing three opponents, including Salazar himself. If he ran, Jiro would suffer a fate worse than death. And all around them, the island continued to burn, time slipping away with each passing second.

The vial tilted, a single drop of green liquid trembling at its lip, mere inches from Jiro's exposed skin.

"Last chance, little fighter," Salazar called out, his voice carrying clearly despite the growing roar of the flames. "Show yourself, or watch your friend become my final experiment on this doomed island."

Jiro closed his eyes, a tear cutting a clean path down his ash-smeared face. "Don't do it, Roku," he whispered, but the defeat in his voice told a different story. He knew, as Roku did, that there was only one choice to be made.

Roku stood up, stepping out from the burning underbrush into the clearing.

"Let him go, Salazar," he said, his voice steady despite the fear churning in his gut. "Your ship's waiting. Take me instead. I'm the one you've been wanting to cut open all this time."