One Piece: Undying Dream

 "Let's test the limits of your newfound abilities, shall we?"

He moved so quickly that even Roku's enhanced senses barely registered it. One moment Salazar was standing several paces away, the next he was directly in front of Roku, a small device clutched in his hand. Before Roku could react, Salazar pressed it against his chest.

Pain unlike anything Roku had ever known exploded throughout his body. It wasn't electricity—it was something worse, something that seemed to set his very nerves on fire. He fell to his knees, unable even to scream as the agony consumed him.

"Neural disruptor," Salazar explained calmly, watching Roku convulse. "My own invention. Unlike the crude stun batons, this targets the pain receptors directly. No permanent damage, but the sensation is... quite overwhelming, I'm told."

Through the haze of agony, Roku could hear Jiro shouting, could feel his friend's desperation and fear. The pain was unbearable, threatening to swallow his consciousness whole. But something kept him from surrendering to it—that same inner strength that had kept him alive all these years.

Get up.

The voice in his head was familiar, insistent—the same one that had driven him through countless fights in the pit.

GET UP.

With tremendous effort, Roku forced his eyes open. Salazar stood over him, expression unchanged save for a slight widening of his eyes—surprise that Roku was still conscious.

"Remarkable pain threshold," the warlord murmured, adjusting something on the neural disruptor. "Let's increase the intensity and—"

Roku moved. Drawing on reserves of strength he didn't know he possessed, he surged upward, driving his head into Salazar's chin with enough force to snap the man's head back. The neural disruptor fell from Salazar's hand, its effect immediately ceasing.

Freed from the debilitating pain, Roku pressed his advantage. His fist connected with Salazar's sternum, driving the air from the warlord's lungs. For the first time, Roku saw genuine emotion on Salazar's face—shock, quickly followed by outrage.

"You dare—" Salazar began, but Roku didn't let him finish. He launched into a flurry of strikes, each one targeting a vulnerable point—throat, solar plexus, knee. Everything he'd learned in the pits, every dirty trick that had kept him alive, poured out in a desperate assault.

Yet Salazar was not a warlord for nothing. Despite his slender build and scientific demeanor, he moved with the precision of a trained fighter. He blocked most of Roku's strikes, countering with vicious jabs to pressure points that sent spasms of pain through Roku's limbs.

"I've studied anatomy for decades," Salazar said, his composure regained as he methodically dismantled Roku's offense. "Every weakness of the human body is known to me. Every vulnerable point." He demonstrated by striking a nerve cluster in Roku's shoulder, causing his entire arm to go limp. "You're fighting with instinct and raw talent. I'm fighting with science."

Another earth-shaking boom echoed across the island, followed by a pillar of fire rising from the direction of the main harbor. The pirates' destruction was accelerating.

Roku stumbled back, his left arm hanging uselessly at his side. His breathing came in ragged gasps, his vision swimming from the aftereffects of the neural disruptor. But his haki was expanding further with each moment of the fight.

He could feel Salazar now—not just his physical presence, but the cold, calculating mind behind those pale eyes. He could sense the warlord's next moves before they happened, could feel the subtle shifts in stance that telegraphed his intentions.

When Salazar attacked again, Roku was ready. Despite his injured arm, he moved with newfound precision, evading strikes that should have landed, countering at angles that shouldn't have been possible. For the first time, uncertainty flickered across Salazar's face.

They clashed again, moving through the clearing in a deadly dance. Flames surrounded them now, the jungle fire creeping closer with each passing minute. Sweat poured down Roku's face, mixing with blood from a cut above his eye. His body screamed for rest, but he pushed onward, driven by the knowledge that this might be his only chance at freedom.

Salazar produced a small blade from his sleeve—a scalpel, its edge gleaming in the firelight. "Enough games," he said, his voice hardening. "I need you alive, but not necessarily intact."

The blade moved in precise arcs, forcing Roku to retreat. Even with his enhanced awareness, avoiding the scalpel's edge was becoming increasingly difficult. A burning tree crashed to the ground nearby, showering them with embers and momentarily distracting Roku. It was all the opening Salazar needed.

The scalpel flashed forward, slicing a clean line across Roku's chest—not deep enough to be fatal, but enough to draw blood. Roku staggered back, expecting pain, but something else happened instead. His skin burned not with normal pain, but with a spreading numbness that rapidly crawled outward from the wound.

"Neurotoxin," Salazar explained, watching with clinical interest as Roku's movements became sluggish. "Delivered via the blade. Don't worry—it won't kill you. Just make you more... manageable."

Panic surged through Roku as he felt the poison taking effect. His limbs grew heavier, his reflexes dulling.

No. Not like this. Not when freedom was so close.