Chapter 283
The instant those words left Zaraki's mouth, the air inside the cabin seemed to petrify.
Three sharp breaths sounded almost simultaneously.
Sandersonia and Marigold reacted like startled cats, both jumping backward before immediately placing their large bodies between Hancock and Zaraki.
Their faces flushed crimson.
The color spread all the way down their scale-covered necks.
"P-Pervert! Shameless bastard! You Marine... what the hell are you thinking?!"
Marigold's voice trembled with outrage. Her hands instinctively tightened around her enormous polearm, even though the cramped cabin gave her absolutely no room to swing it.
Sandersonia gritted her teeth as well, disbelief and fury filling her eyes.
"Even if you just defeated Dracule Mihawk... asking something like that—!"
Her expression hardened.
"The warriors of the Kuja will never accept such humiliation!"
Across from them, Boa Hancock's breathtaking face carried more than simple embarrassment.
There was hurt.
A deep, almost crushing sense of disappointment.
She abruptly rose to her feet.
Her body trembled faintly beneath the intensity of her emotions, and for the first time, moisture seemed to gather at the edges of those usually imperious eyes.
"I had thought..."
Her voice turned cold.
"...that you were different from ordinary men."
With that, Hancock turned toward the door.
The hem of her red qipao swept behind her with decisive force.
So that was it.
Men really were all the same—idiots who thought with the wrong half of their bodies.
Zaraki remained seated, watching the three sisters react as though he had just declared himself their mortal enemy.
He rubbed his temple.
'Yeah...'
'That probably came out wrong.'
Maybe the Zaraki Kenpachi template really had influenced him too much.
That direct, blunt way of speaking worked wonderfully in battle.
When talking to women?
Apparently it was a complete disaster.
Zaraki tapped one finger against the table.
"Stop."
His voice was not loud.
Yet something in it made Hancock freeze with her hand already resting on the door handle.
Zaraki stood, brushed a little frost and dust from his Marine uniform, then looked past the two sisters and directly at Hancock's back.
"If you want the **Hoof of the Flying Dragon** gone for good..."
Hancock stiffened.
"...then sit back down."
The words struck the cabin like invisible thunder.
Hancock's hand recoiled from the door as though she had been shocked.
The furious rigidity in her back vanished instantly.
Slowly, she turned around.
Her pupils had contracted violently.
The proud mask she wore before the world collapsed in a heartbeat, leaving behind something much closer to fear and confusion.
"You..."
Her lips trembled.
"How do you know about that...?"
Sandersonia and Marigold looked as though they had been struck by lightning.
That mark was the darkest, filthiest secret of their lives.
Something they had intended to carry into their graves.
The brand of the Celestial Dragons.
Proof that they had once been slaves.
Only a tiny circle connected to their escape and survival knew the truth. Jinbe had glimpsed enough during the submarine incident to recognize the mark, but Zaraki had covered it before anyone else could stare and had never spoken of it afterward.
Zaraki quietly exhaled.
Favors were always the hardest debts to repay.
Hancock had come to his aid when things went bad in Totto Land.
He could hardly answer that by giving her some useless thank-you gift.
So he might as well give her something that actually mattered.
Zaraki sat back down, crossed one leg over the other, and his tone shifted into something almost businesslike.
"That mark is your worst nightmare, isn't it?"
None of them answered.
"As long as it's there, it doesn't matter how strong you become."
His gaze remained calm.
"Some part of you still feels like the slave who had it burned into her."
Hancock bit her lower lip hard enough to draw blood.
She forced the last fragments of her pride back into place.
"I have no idea what you're talking about!"
Her voice shook despite her efforts.
"Something disgusting like that could never be on my back!"
She glared at him.
"You insolent—"
"Being stubborn isn't going to cure anything."
Zaraki cut her off without ceremony.
He reached into a pocket and pinched out a single green bean that looked utterly ordinary.
A **System-Enhanced Senzu Bean**.
He had purchased exactly one for the demonstration and for his own injuries. Only Zaraki heard the system notification.
**[750 points deducted. Current points: 930.]**
Its effect was already extraordinary enough: catastrophic physical damage could be restored and missing tissue regenerated.
It did not magically cleanse vague curses or erase every kind of affliction.
For the Celestial Dragon brands, Zaraki's idea was much more straightforward—the old scarred tissue would have to be removed carefully, then the missing flesh regenerated cleanly.
"Watch."
He lifted the lower edge of his uniform.
The three sisters' eyes immediately dropped toward his abdomen.
The sight silenced them.
The wound Mihawk's dagger had left was still horrific.
Even after emergency treatment, it remained a deep puncture through the abdomen, and the damage Linlin had inflicted on his shoulder had not completely healed either.
Zaraki tossed the Senzu Bean into his mouth.
Crunch.
He chewed once.
A surge of vitality spread through his body. Hancock's eyes widened as torn muscle fibers began knitting together at a visible rate.
Flesh closed, blood vessels sealed, the puncture through his abdomen disappeared, and the lingering damage in his shoulder vanished with it.
Within moments, the injuries were gone. Completely. In their place was smooth, unbroken skin without even a pale scar.
Sandersonia stared.
"What...?"
Her voice broke.
"How is that possible?!"
She rubbed her eyes and actually leaned forward as though she needed to inspect Zaraki's stomach personally.
Amazon Lily possessed skilled healers and rare medicinal herbs. But restoring injuries of that severity in moments was no longer ordinary medicine. It was a miracle.
"This is what I can use to help you," Zaraki said. "If the branded tissue is removed properly, regeneration like this should let the skin grow back without the old scar."
Marigold stared at his empty hand, then at him. "You have three more?"
"No."
The blunt answer made all three sisters freeze again.
"I can get more later, but I don't have enough for all three of you now." Zaraki stood and walked toward the cabin door. When he pulled it open, cold sea wind rushed inside, dispersing the heavy tension that had filled the room.
"So don't try cutting the scars out yourselves. When I have enough medicine for all three of you, I'll arrange somewhere private and we'll do it properly."
He stood with his back to them.
"If you trust me, come when I call. If you don't, then don't."
A brief pause.
"But I'm not leaving you three to experiment on yourselves with something like this."
That was all.
Zaraki stepped out onto the wind-swept deck without looking back.
The broad silhouette disappearing through the doorway somehow felt strangely reassuring.
Inside the cabin, silence lingered for a long time.
Marigold slowly looked down at the spot on the table where the bean had rested only moments earlier. Her hand trembled faintly.
"Sister..."
Sandersonia's voice cracked.
Tears had begun gathering in her eyes.
The hope they had buried years ago—the hope of ever truly being free of that mark—had suddenly returned.
For the first time in years, that hope no longer felt impossible.
"If..."
She swallowed.
"If it really can be removed..."
Hancock sat motionless.
Her gaze remained fixed on the empty doorway.
What had she been thinking only moments ago?
She had believed Zaraki wanted her body.
She had even prepared herself to fight him to the death rather than submit.
But what had he actually wanted?
To free her from the nightmare that had followed her for more than a decade.
He had seen through the secret she guarded most desperately.
Yet he had neither mocked nor pitied her.
He had protected it.
And now he was offering to erase it.
That strange combination of being understood, protected, and still treated with respect struck Hancock harder than any physical blow ever had.
It was like a warm current crashing through the iceberg of pride she had built around herself.
'That man...'
Color slowly returned to Hancock's cheeks.
This time, it was not humiliation.
It was something softer.
Something unfamiliar enough to make her heart beat faster.
Then another detail returned to her.
'He said...'
Her blush deepened.
'...to come when he called?'
Sandersonia wiped at the corner of one eye.
Then, perhaps because the tension had finally broken, she muttered quietly:
"Sister... Zaraki-sama is actually very gentle."
Hancock's fingers twitched.
Sandersonia continued, almost thoughtfully.
"And if he really became our brother-in-law someday..."
She tilted her head.
"I suppose I wouldn't object."
Hancock's slender fingers immediately tangled together.
"B-Brother-in-law\\...?"
The image of Zaraki casually chewing the bean moments earlier surfaced in her mind.
That relaxed expression.
That complete lack of hesitation.
That infuriatingly natural confidence.
Hancock lowered her head.
Long black hair fell forward, concealing eyes that had already begun wandering somewhere dangerously close to romantic fantasy.
Inside the quiet cabin... her heartbeat sounded as loud as a drum.
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