Chapter 136: Dance of the Swan and the Devil
The streets of Alubarna were ablaze with the sound of battle.
Screams. Metal. Gunfire. War had broken out like a wildfire, but amid it all, one alley was filled with something else.
A dance.
Sanji skidded back on his heel, black leather shoe scraping sparks from the sandstone. His shirt was half-torn, collar open and flapping with the wind. Blood ran from his mouth, trailing down his chin like a crimson thread. His cigarette was bent at an awkward angle, but still burning.
Opposite him stood Mr. 2 Bon Clay, arms out like a swan mid-flight. His ballerina outfit was torn, feathers drifting around him like falling snow. His makeup was smeared from sweat and blood, and one of his fake eyelashes had come off—but his grin?
Perfect. Painted in madness.
"You're quite the dancer, curly-brows," Bon Clay twirled, landing with a perfect pointed toe. "I haven't had this much fun since the bloody masquerade at Mariejois!"
Sanji didn't even blink. He shifted into stance, right leg cocked slightly behind, cigarette clamped between teeth.
"I'm not dancing with you, freak. I'm just kicking your ass in rhythm."
Bon Clay laughed, loud and musical and unhinged. "Oh, but we're dancing all the same! To the rhythm of combat, to the beat of blood!"
He lunged.
A blur of pink and white feathers and steel-hard legs flew forward, his Okama Kenpo striking with the grace of ballet and the force of a cannon. His heel aimed for Sanji's jaw... but Sanji ducked. Effortlessly. Almost lazy.
He countered in a blink, his foot rising like a piston and slamming into Bon Clay's ribs with the crack of snapping bones. The impact threw Bon Clay into a shattered cart, splinters flying like shrapnel.
Sanji didn't even look impressed.
"You're too slow." He said.
But Bon Clay wasn't down. He popped up from the wreckage, coughing blood but laughing. "Ohoho~! But I'm not done!"
He struck his swan pose mid-air and suddenly. Smack!. His face warped.
He transformed.
Nami's voice came from his lips. "Sanji-kun~♥️ It's me!"
Sanji froze.
Not because of the transformation. He'd been tricked once already. But because the face… was still so real. The voice was soft. Her eyes sparkled, lips curled the same way they did when she asked for help.
That tiny moment of hesitation almost cost him.
A sharp spinning heel came straight for his temple.
Sanji barely tilted aside, barely. The blow clipped him, splitting his cheek open. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc across the alley wall.
"Gotcha~!" Bon Clay giggled in Nami's voice.
But Sanji didn't back down. He spit out the cigarette, rolled his neck, and gave a sharp grin.
"That face pisses me off when you wear it. I'll make damn sure you never do again."
He vanished.
Bon Clay's eyes widened. "Wha—?!"
A blur of black came down from above.
Sanji's leg slammed into Bon Clay's shoulder, breaking it instantly with a loud crunch. The Okama screamed, spinning across the ground. Blood fountained from the shattered joint.
"You're not fighting a swordsman," Sanji said, walking forward slowly. "Not a sniper. Not a swordswoman."
He cracked his neck. "You're fighting the man who fights with his legs… so his hands stay clean enough to serve women drinks."
Bon Clay scrambled up, wobbling. His arm hung uselessly now. But he didn't flee. He didn't run. He smiled, eyes gleaming with delight through pain.
"Ohohoho! You're magnificent, Sanji-kun! A devil wrapped in a tuxedo!"
He shifted again.
Now he looked like Usopp. Then Chopper. Then Zoro.
Then…
Goku
"Would you hit your captain?" he asked, voice dead-on. "Would you dare?"
Sanji's foot stopped an inch from his face.
Bon Clay grinned wider.
But Sanji didn't pause for long.
"Goku take it."
He twisted mid-air, and with a brutal spinning kick, smashed Bon Clay's face into the cobblestone, shattering the mimicry and caving in part of the street. Blood sprayed from the Okama's nose and mouth. Teeth scattered like dice.
Bon Clay coughed, staggered back upright. Face mangled.
Sanji was on him again, relentless.
He didn't give him a second to breathe. Kick after kick, brutal, elegant, savage.
Blood splashed like paint on a canvas.
Bon Clay tried to twirl away, pirouette, pose, anything to regain footing. But Sanji was everywhere. Every movement was read. Every technique countered.
"You dance well," Sanji growled, his heel slamming into Bon Clay's spine. "But I dance with death."
Bon Clay screamed as ribs cracked again, as he smashed through a wall and landed on the floor in a blood-slick sprawl.
"Goku was right," Sanji muttered, voice like steel. "No more playing pirates."
He stalked forward as Bon Clay struggled to rise. Bones broken. Face unrecognizable. Yet still… smiling.
Sanji stood over him, breath heavy. Blood dripped from his boot. His own shirt was torn, chest bleeding, smoke rising off his shoulder from a heated strike earlier.
But his eyes burned like fire.
"It's us or them," he said.
Bon Clay stared up, coughing.
"So then, handsome," he whispered, grinning through broken lips. "Are you going to finish me off?"
Sanji didn't answer.
His breath misted in the hot desert air. The heat of the fight still burned on his skin, but his mind was cold now, sharp. He stared down at the heap of blood and broken bones beneath him.
Bon Clay tried to rise again, muscles twitching uselessly.
But Sanji was done.
He rolled his neck, cracked his knuckles—not out of necessity, but as a statement. A warning. This show was over.
"This farce ends now."
His voice cut through the silence like a blade.
He vanished.
In the span of a blink, he crossed the distance. Bon Clay's eyes barely twitched before Sanji's knee slammed into his midsection with such force that the alley cracked beneath them, the ground rupturing in a jagged line of stone and dust. Blood exploded from Bon Clay's mouth, spraying across the wall like an abstract painting in red.
Bones crunched. Breath left him in a choking gasp.
Sanji followed through with a spinning back kick—a blur of motion so fast that Bon Clay's body lifted off the ground and slammed into the wall. His limp frame hung there for a heartbeat… and then dropped.
Unconscious.
Breathing. But barely.
The Okama's swan feathers drifted through the air like dying snowflakes.
Sanji stood there, one hand in his pocket, exhaling smoke from his nostrils like a dragon. Blood dripped from his leg. His boot was slick with it. His hair hung over one eye, soaked in sweat and red.
He turned without a word and began walking.
Around the corner, boots crunched stone.
Gin emerged, hands in his pockets, his chained tonfa slung across his back. The silver of his headband glinted under the sun, and his face was grim.
He looked at the unconscious Bon Clay, then at Sanji. "Took your sweet time."
Sanji shrugged.
"He was entertaining."
Gin arched an eyebrow. "Thought about jumping in."
"I saw you there," Sanji muttered, eyes forward. "You're not subtle."
"Didn't think you'd need help, but you were holding back." Gin's voice was flat, accusing. "Why?"
Sanji didn't answer at first. His fingers reached into his coat for another cigarette.
He lit it with shaking fingers.
Not fear. Just adrenaline. So much of it, it made his blood buzz like thunder.
"…the words from that day," he finally said. "They wouldn't leave my head."
Gin glanced sideways. "Goku's words?"
Sanji nodded.
'Step up or step aside.'
"That day, he said it straight. This isn't some child's voyage. It's war. It's blood. It's survival." Sanji took a long drag. "He said we needed to choose. Pirates? Or players?"
Gin didn't speak. He walked beside him, silent.
"I wasn't sure," Sanji said. "About whether I could actually go through with it. Taking a life. Fighting like this. Bleeding like this. Not for pride. Not for fame. But because someone out there will kill us if we don't."
He looked at his bloody boot.
"But now? I get it. It's them or us."
Gin snorted. "Took you long enough."
"Go fuck yourself," Sanji replied, voice calm.
Gin smirked. "You ready, then?"
Sanji nodded, exhaling a long plume of smoke.
From the distance, the sounds of war grew louder. Muskets, screams, metal on metal. The final confrontation had begun.
The rebels and the royal army were clashing at the heart of Alubarna.
And the Saiyan Pirates were heading straight into it.
Side by side, Sanji and Gin began to move—faster, more purposeful now.
Time to step up.