"Thanks so much, miss," the man held Visul's hands in his-- "he was a soldier, a broken arm, a sealed gash down his shoulder blade-- "words cannot express how indebted I am to you."

Visul was near tugging her own arm away at the unprecedented affection-- "It's-- nothing," she had to struggle to find the words, not accustomed to being thanked.

"You've really saved us," the nurse by their side bowed her head low, "although the power you have is strange, it has helped tremendously."

Visul shrank, unsure. 

She had brought the art out at the thought of helping the masses. To nurture and make it known as something useful-- but she was still surprised.

It was rare that people saw this not as a satanic witchcraft, but a blessing.

"Visul," Enma-- his red demon mask gone, he was nursing a wound to the gut. "You're worried about the boys, aren't you?"

Visul swung to him, startled. "You're supposed to stay down!"

"Grizzly's gone to give that Ensie a rough up. I don't know what your boys are planning, but they're better off sailing away from here now."

"We've been over that, sir," Visul seethed, clenching a fist. "We're helping, no matter what you say. I'm already doing all I can here--"

"Please, we just don't want you to get further involved!"

"We already are," Visul was quite adorably annoyed, puffing up her cheeks-- if she were Leer, her fur'd be bristling in hostility, "injured people like you can just act like an injured person and sleep or something!"

"Look, you guys are pirates!" Enma snapped fiercely, "we're in your debt-- we can't thank you enough. But we can't pay you back for this. We don't--"

"You're... a pirate?"

"Such a young girl?"

Visul flinched, feeling the animosity burn into unease around her. Now, people were feeling sour awareness of her. She didn't think they were scared of her now-- maybe they were alarmed?

She gritted her teeth.

And sighed.

"I don't need a reason to not want anyone to die," she said firmly, holding a hand to her chest. "And they don't need your permission to save a friend."

  ー  

Cross threw a punch, Niryou catching it easily.

"Harder," Niryuo taunted, "or you won't get anywhere, y'know?" he sent a foot to the child's gut, throwing him a few paces back. 

Cross took a preparatory step back-- and charged forward again.

The exchange repeated itself-- a punch, a block, a kick, a swerve. It was a lucky shot if Cross got a hit in, but it wasn't too hard to dodge attacks from Niryou, with his reflexes.

I can't kill him, Cross repeated in his head, somehow obeying it without fully understanding-- Do I just aim for non-vitals?

His hand caught the Lieutenant's forearm-- with a quick flip and fut of an elbow, Cross spun it in a suppression hold, then spun his feet around to kick the man right off his feet.

Except, the man's feet were not there.

It had scattered to pieces of white paper, flickering in the wind, wafting in a distance, but in a spherical range.

"So close," Niryou mused-- his body was still upright, full, where it had been-- The arm Cross was holding shattered into paper. Unfazed,, the older man smiled.

Pieces were broken off of him easily, like a sort of papier mache.

"...Paper?" Cross found himself grasping a piece in his hand-- it was small, smaller than his palm-- "is that what you are?"

"Yeah," Niryou grinned-- "another thing to know when you fight a Devil Fruit User--" he pointed at Cross, "they always have a way to plan something behind your back, so don't let down your guard."

"Behind my back?" Cross tilted his head to the side.

Cross looked over his shoulder, wondering what was behind him-- then, he squawked, swerving away from a floating hand almost crashing into his face.

"Hand!" he squeaked, "your hand can fly? Cool!"

"Stop talking like that, you're making me want to go easy on you!" Niryou whined, "I'm supposed to fight you, y'know?"

"Ehe," Cross snickered, "I just have to make you fall, right?"

"Not exactly," Niryou sighed, "but alright, let's just say whoever falls to their knees first, loses."

"Uhn!" Cross smiled meekly, "then, let's go again!"

"I'm fighting a pirate," Niryou looked to the sky, covering his face in despair, "this is a pirate!"

  ー  

"Where's Niryou?!" the DenDenMushi yelled, enraged, "get his ass here now!"

"I'm so sorry, Rear Admiral!" the soldier panicked, "we've had no sign of the Lieutenant for the past thirty minutes! And-- GAHH!!"

"What? What's going on! Soldier, Report back!"

Stepping on the man's face with a clanky metal boot, the DenDen Mushi was picked up. The soldier fainted, the arrow that scraped his shoulder having been laced with some paralysing agent. 

"Sorry, sir, stepped in some dog shit!" Takara imitated a soldier's whiny panic, "the coast is clear and all soldiers are at the ready. Nothing unusual to report, sire."

"What, that's it?" the phone groaned, "contact me when Lt Niryou's returned to scene! I'll be there in moments!"

As the snail fell back to sleep, Takara tucked it in his pocket and sighed.

Pulling his arrow from the ground, he tucked it into his quiver and looked around. There had been fifty soldiers stationed here, but all were down in one way or another. Knocked out, incapacitated, exhausted, or chained down accidentally.

The civilians in the area were much too fearful to get any closer. Takara was glad for that, because it meant less obstructions. Soldiers sprawled across the coast, guns in hand but arms too weak to reach for them.

"Seriously, you guys are some newbies to get all in a panic from one sharpshooter," he scoffed, "that Ensie just scraped y'all from some corner of the West Blue, didn't he? And left his main troops in Paradise. The stingy bastard."

Takara stepped over, picking up the rifle and unlocking the magazine cartridge, spilling loose bullets across the ground. He 'oopsed' at that fumble-- and began to pick them up, tossing them into his belt sack.

He picked up another rifle, and did the same. He strapped a few loaded rifles to his back for later use, but was doing it all in an easygoing manner, not too alarmed if someone would come by.

"I'm a sharpshooter, so I gonna load up some ammo," he mumbled to himself, "though, I'm not sure if I'll be using all this soon, oh, maybe Grizzly's taking Ensie now. Maybe he'll win."

He tossed some of them into the ocean so they wouldn't be fished out later. It'd be annoying if they got back up and made things harder, after all.

"Seriously, guns need something on them to make gunshots quieter," Takara muttered, "gunpowder stinks and is seriously too loud. I've always hated them. Marine guns are greasy with sweat, too. What the hell?"

Briefly, he wondered if he should throw all these wimpy recruits into the ocean. That building over there looked like a nice sniping spot. He'll go there later, then. 

Maybe he should raid the marine ship? Right, souvenirs for Leer, almost forgot. And materials for that hair ornament he was gonna make for Visul... no, no, this is a serious battle. He needed to get a grip. Maybe Visul would like a bangle better-- FOCUS!

"You... bastard," a soldier croaked out, reaching a weak hand out, "how dare you mess with us marines!"

"I'm a pirate," Takara sang, "it's now my job description, kid."