MARINES - A ONE PIECE story (ENGLISH) - Part I

CHAPTER CXXXVIII - Auguste's Casino

In the most brutal way, the freaks were brought back to their cages by the artists and their clown henchmen. But they did not mind : they preferred the solitude of their dirty and wet cages than being on stage, in front of an audience that had only hatred and contempt for them. There was no worst humiliation.

Jorge and Hataro watched them arrive in silence, in the darkness of their own cage. They were sharing the rage and despair of these outcasts, even though they had been trapped in this hellish backstage for much less time. The blood on Jorge's forehead had dried, his eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness. The desire for justice was burning again in his chest, swollen with frustration.

As she was watching her lover getting back to the cage that was too small for his long limbs, Rosa, hidden in the shadows, clenched her fist. The bunch of keys that was clutched in it would soon turn in all the cages' locks. The prisoners would be free and would escape the control of the tyrannic Pagliacci. She waited until the artists of the Supra Nostra had passed through the thick velvet curtain, until only a few clowns remained. The moment had come. "Revolution !"

...

Further on, in the shadow of the backstage, Jane was panting. Escaping from the horde of clowns chasing her had not been easy and she had lost Jun in the run. She may have been a very competent fighter, powerful, tough and agile, but she was still weak to the sea stone : her handcuffs were draining all her energy, so that she was completely exhausted. On her chest, a stone seemed to weigh. She was covered in sweat. Unable to use her powers to disappear, she remained as visible as the other visitors. She was even more visible because the large wings on her back were likely to attract attention. She had to find a way to free herself as soon as possible, while remaining as discreet as possible. She waited for her breath to come back to her and then, she tiptoed back into the maze of the backstage.

...

The Casino had a reputation that was firmly established in people's minds : in a single night, the poorest man in the world could become the richest, and vice versa. The games were of all kinds : cards, sports betting, machines... For a token worth only one berry, it was possible to have access to the greatest of fortunes. And the visitors knew this reputation well : just like the Park and the Big Top, the Casino was completely full. One could meet the rich visitors in their tuxedos, smoking cigars with a contemptuous air, as well as poor vagabonds who were lucky to pass through the health inspection. Security was extremely attentive to fraud, which was rare : Auguste, the director of the establishment, had the reputation of being the most sadistic of Harlequin's lieutenants.

At the back of the VIP quarters, in his personal apartments, he was giving the most mundane of parties : the distinguished guests were numerous, drinking the finest champagne from their crystal goblets, admiring the walls and columns covered in gold. Gold, the only interesting thing to the brilliant eyes of Auguste: from head to toe, this gloomy man was smelling richness, from his haute couture clothes to his gleaming jewelry. His face, covered with white paint, contrasted with the splendor of his clothes. With his long manicured fingers, he readjusted his slicked-back hair. A sly smile was constantly printed on his lips as he was keeping his guests occupied.

On his large couch, where he was surrounded by scantily clad girls, he was giggling like a dandy as he recounted his ridiculous exploits :

- ... and that's when I had him executed ! he shouted at the end of his story, provoking general hilarity.

He drowned his own laughter in a glass of champagne and continued.

- Money is the only thing that allows happiness, my friends. Anyone who says otherwise is a dumbass. Look at me : since I entered the top 20 richest people in the world, I've been able to buy three villas, a hundred slaves and even one of those fruits everyone is after.

A few of the guests' eyes widened.

- A... A devil fruit ? You bought one ?!

- The New World black market is full of such treasures, he sighed with a satisfied smile. You just have to know who to ask.

He winked at the onlookers and let his hand slide over the buttocks of one of his companions, who nestled against his neck. Then, while the group was religiously waiting for a new story, he grabbed the dagger that was lying on his desk. He raised it over his head and looked at the shine in the light of the chandelier.

- Look at this curved blade. Taken from the chief of the Powath tribe of Mukata, it is probably worth thousands of berrys. It's a historical treasure that most of you wouldn't be able to afford by selling your own family. Yet it is one of the least valuable items in this room.

And while most of the guests expressed amused indignation, he picked his teeth with the tip of the beautiful blade. Above his gigantic leather sofa, he had hung the mask of the Red Lion. Between the two eyes, he had drawn the Jolly Roger of his crew with a black pen : the laughing head of a clown.

He didn't know that his owner had infiltrated his quarters and was waiting in the shadows for the right moment. In his furious eyes was reflected the bright glow of the neon "VIP", which he was looking at with rage.