But the moment he thought about his younger brother—
About that idiot Ace!
Marco gave in.
‘Once you’re rescued, if you don’t swear to call me your godfather, I’ll never forgive you!’
‘Do you even know what I went through to save you?’
‘Do you have any idea what I’ve endured these past days?’
‘I became a son, dammit—a son!’
‘To save you, I’ve been acting like a son everywhere I go—’
‘Well, okay, maybe not that far.’
At any rate, judging by the look in Marco’s eyes, once this whole mess was over, he was definitely going to settle things with Rayleigh.
And as for Rayleigh right now…
Well, who knows what he was thinking?
But one thing’s for sure—he’s holding back laughter hard.
“Sup, I’m Will.”
Finally, Vir spoke up.
But as soon as he opened his mouth, Hancock took another step back in disgust.
She really hadn’t expected this.
Of all people…
It had to be him.
The one thing she feared the most had come true.
How could she possibly let this guy treat her?
Had Rayleigh been raising a donkey at home?
One that did nothing but kick him in the head all day?
Even a moron could tell she’d never agree to this!
And what was with these so-called “children”?
The little girl was somewhat acceptable, but what the hell was that scruffy, bearded thing?
That was supposed to be a son?
Eight years old?!
At this point, Hancock was seriously starting to wonder if Rayleigh had really suffered brain damage.
Absolutely unacceptable.
She was the Empress of Amazon Lily, for heaven’s sake.
And now she was supposed to be treated by some filthy, stinky man?
Absolutely not!
The thing is, the smell on Vir wasn’t natural…
He intentionally sprayed himself with a special concoction of medicine.
“Rayleigh! You must be senile! If you get lost with these people right now, I might still spare their lives!”
“If not, don’t blame me for being ruthless!”
Hancock suppressed her rage, her brows furrowed tightly.
Hearing this, Rayleigh sighed.
Still a no, huh?
Well then, Hancock…
Sorry, but we’re doing this the hard way.
Did Vir really not anticipate this outcome?
Let’s be real—what were the chances that someone as prideful as Hancock, a woman who held herself above all others, would allow someone like current Vir to treat her?
Slim to none.
Which was exactly why Vir had a backup plan.
A plan to return to where the dream began—
Forced Treatment.
That’s right!
He was going to treat her by force!
And it just so happened that forcibly treating patients gave him way more negative points!
He’d already set everything up. The groundwork was done.
It was time to act.
Knock her out, wake her up, cure her!
And hey, the brick wasn’t even broken yet.
Should be good for at least one more use.
But why go through all this trouble instead of just using force from the start?
Well, partly for the buildup.
But more importantly—
It was Rayleigh’s condition.
He’d insisted on giving Hancock a choice, no matter how slim the odds.
Even if he knew she’d probably refuse, he still wanted to offer her that courtesy, no matter how foolish it seemed.
The only reason Rayleigh agreed to all this was because he knew how self-conscious Hancock was about the scar on her back.
Now that Vir was offering to remove it, how could Rayleigh say no?
Even if she had to suffer a bit in the process, it’d be worth it.
Worst case? Heal her first, then tell her the truth afterward.
Vir himself said: once the treatment’s done, it doesn’t matter.
He only cared about the process.
So after weighing it over and over, Rayleigh agreed to Vir’s terms.
And he even added one additional condition—something Vir found completely reasonable:
“Do not harm her.”
Rayleigh was adamant on that point.
If Vir planned to render Hancock completely immobile by force, then Rayleigh was prepared to stake his life to stop it.
But to Vir?
That’s not even a big deal.
Who said making someone immobile had to be through brute force?
Maybe he wouldn’t even need the brick this time.
Because lately, Vir’s poison-crafting had leveled up big time.
After the whole mess with Kizaru, he realized something:
Poison might not be great against stronger opponents.
After this incident, the Marines would be hyper-aware of his tricks.
Dosing someone stronger than him would be tough.
But against weaker targets?
The ones he could freely poison whenever he wanted?
It was still very useful.
Like now.
Perfect for a situation where brute force wasn’t ideal.
Poison was the best option.
And lucky for him, he’d just developed a new one.
Probably it would be useless against Kizaru, but for Hancock?
Perfect.
Just right.
A contact-based toxin.
Not super potent—because if it were, that’d be OP.
But good enough for enemies that weren’t too strong.
The truly powerful would shrug it off.
This particular poison induced gradual weakness.
But the keyword was gradual.
The stronger the target, the slower it worked.
Hancock could be affected, but it’d take a while.
But if Vir brought it out, there’s no way he was just going to wait for it to work.
Why does it take so long to kick in?
Because the dosage was small!
Please.
This isn’t some system-generated, limited-supply poison.
It’s homemade!
Planted, brewed, distilled all by himself!
Mass production, baby!
What’s that?
You say it’s too slow?
Then why not douse her from head to toe?
Who said Vir only brought a tiny vial?
There’s a whole barrel of this stuff!
“Hancock, won’t you reconsider? This man might not look the part, but his medical skills are unmatched.”
“That scar of yours—he might be the only one in the world who can heal it. Do you really want to keep living in fear?”
Rayleigh hadn’t given up yet, still trying to persuade her gently.
To be honest, his words did have some weight.
At least, they used to.
If she had no other option, Hancock might’ve let him try it out on her sister first.
After all, this was someone Rayleigh vouched for.
But now?
Hancock had a better candidate.
Even if she didn’t let this guy treat her… she might still be cured!
She believed what Luffy had said. If Vir could heal Whitebeard, then he could remove her scar too.
Given the choice between the two?
There was no way she was letting this filthy greaseball near her.
