Weird rescue - One piece - Emporio

Panic was twisting your stomach. As a simple cabin boy for Alvida's crew, you had taken advantage of a port stop to slip away and hide inside this high-end hair salon, which was completely deserted at this time of day. Your face was plastered on a few local wanted posters, and you were just hoping for a quiet place to lay low. Too bad for you. The front door didn't just open; it was literally unhinged by a monumental, perfectly proportioned presence. Emporio Ivankov, the Okama Queen, walked in, a towering wall of rock-hard, deeply defined muscle. This was not a caricature; his sculpted body and head were in absolute, terrifying, athletic proportion. Every inch of his rippled abs, broad chest, and powerful limbs were chiselled like classical statuary, gleaming beneath his metallic pink leotard and feather collar. His iconic purple afro and small crown topped a proportional, striking face. His large, eccentric eyes locked right onto you. "HEEE-HAW ! Vat a surprise ! The salon is empty, but destiny sends me a young stylist ! My divine afro-revolutionary hair is in desperate need of a trim before my departure, darling. Get me seated, and show me the extent of your art !" You swallowed hard. Refusing this colossal, shredded warrior was out of the question. You put on the apron, grabbed the scissors, and Ivankov's mighty head settled into the chair. You took a purple strand of hair. Your hands were shaking. Clac. Too short. Way too short. A huge hole had just appeared right in the middle of their perfect afro. Panicking, you tried to fix it by cutting the adjacent side to even it out. Clac. Your fingers slipped, shaving a whole strip right down to the scalp. In a vicious circle of pure anxiety, you cut left, then right. The final result was an asymmetrical abomination, a hair massacre that made the legendary Queen of Okamas look like a plucked poodle that had survived an explosion. Ivankov grabbed a hand mirror. The silence that followed was heavy and unbearable. For three seconds, Iva's false eyelashes trembled. Then, his mighty head turned slowly toward you, his piercing eyes, perfectly set on his proportional face, glued a millimeter from your own. "No... No... NON ! What on earth is this hair horror ?! You have broken the glamour ! You have murdered the volume ! You have turned my crown of freedom into a vulgar ship doormat !" Iva leapt out of the chair with unthinkable agility for their size, striking a pose of total melodrama, hands on his cheeks, emphasizing his flawless muscular structure. "It is a crime against aesthetics ! A tragedy ! You clearly need a lesson, darling ! You do not ruin a Queen's hair and expect to walk away looking the same !" Suddenly, Ivankov paused, squinting at your panicked face. Their eyes drifted to a wanted poster crumpled on the counter, then back to you. Outside, the heavy boots of the Marines were sprinting down the alleyway, shouting your description. A sharp, brilliant smile stretched across Iva's heavy makeup. "But vat a surprise... The Marines are looking for a boy, aren't they ? A little cabin boy from Alvida's crew... If they come in here, you are a goner, darling. But Emporio Ivankov never lets a pirate fall into the hands of the World Government ! Let's solve two problems at once : a lesson for my afro, and the perfect biological camouflage !" Before you could even take a single step back, Ivankov's hand cut through the air at supersonic speed. Their sharp fingernails, glowing with a strange, liquid purple light under the effect of the Horu Horu no Mi, jabbed firmly into the flesh of your neck. "Sex-change hormones ! Execution !" Iva shouted with a wide, theatrical grin. An intense, indescribable wave of heat instantly spread through your entire body. In a matter of seconds, your biology reconfigured itself completely. Your bone structure shifted, your features softened, your chest developed, and your voice pitched up into a gasp of pure shock as you feel a sudden emptiness in your pants. Right on cue, the front doors burst open as three Marine scouts ran in, swords drawn, looking around frantically. They looked at the massive Okama queen, then at you, completely bypassing the wanted poster description of the scruffy teenage boy they were trailing. "Hey ! Have you seen a male pirate passing through here ? Short hair, Alvida's crew ?" the Marine captain barked, completely oblivious. Ivankov let out a loud, booming laugh, tossing his ruined cape over his massive, sculpted shoulder while winking at you with a massive, conspiratorial grin. "HEEE-HAW ! No boys here, captain, just me and my new top-model assistant trying to fix a terrible hair day ! You should try another street !" The Marines grumbled and ran back outside, leaving the two of you alone in the wrecked salon. Ivankov turned back to you, blocking the exit with a giant hand on their hip and a demanding look in their eyes. "Merveilleux ! They fell for it ! The Marines are gone, but you are still in my debt, darling. Look at you, a gorgeous lady, but with zero sense of style ! Since you are a catastrophic hairdresser, you are coming with me to Newkama Land to learn how to dance, dress, and pay off this hair disaster ! What do you have to say for yourself now, hm ?"

Panic was twisting your stomach. As a simple cabin girl for Alvida's crew, you had taken advantage of a port stop to slip away and hide inside this high-end hair salon, which was completely deserted at this time of day. Your face was plastered on a few local wanted posters, and you were just hoping for a quiet place to lay low. Too bad for you. ​The front door didn't just open; it was literally unhinged by a monumental, perfect proportioned presence. ​Emporio Ivankov, the Okama Queen, walked in, a towering wall of rock-hard, deeply defined muscle. This was not a caricature; his sculpted body and head were in absolute, terrifying, athletic proportion. Every inch of his rippled abs, broad chest with its sharp skull tattoo, and powerful limbs were chiselled like classical statuary, gleaming beneath his metallic pink leotard and feather collar. His iconic purple afro and small crown topped a proportional, striking face. His large, eccentric eyes locked right onto you. ​"HEEE-HAW ! Vat a surprise ! The salon is empty, but destiny sends me a young stylist ! My divine afro-revolutionary hair is in desperate need of a trim before my departure, darling. Get me seated, and show me the extent of your art !" ​You swallowed hard. Refusing this colossal, shredded warrior was out of the question. You put on the apron, grabbed the scissors, and Ivankov's mighty head settled into the chair. ​You took a purple strand of hair. Your hands were shaking. Clac. ​Too short. Way too short. A huge hole had just appeared right in the middle of their perfect afro. Panicking, you tried to fix it by cutting the adjacent side to even it out. Clac. Your fingers slipped, shaving a whole strip right down to the scalp. In a vicious circle of pure anxiety, you cut left, then right. The final result was an asymmetrical abomination, a hair massacre that made the legendary Queen of Okamas look like a plucked poodle that had survived an explosion. ​Ivankov grabbed a hand mirror. The silence that followed was heavy and unbearable. ​For three seconds, Iva's false eyelashes trembled. Then, his mighty head turned slowly toward you, his piercing eyes, perfectly set on his proportional face, glued a millimeter from your own. ​"No... No... NON ! What on earth is this hair horror ?! You have broken the glamour ! You have murdered the volume ! You have turned my crown of freedom into a vulgar ship doormat !" ​Iva leapt out of the chair with unthinkable agility for their size, striking a pose of total melodrama, hands on his cheeks, emphasizing his flawless muscular structure. ​"It is a crime against aesthetics ! A tragedy ! You clearly need a lesson, darling ! You do not ruin a Queen's hair and expect to walk away looking the same !" ​Suddenly, Ivankov paused, squinting at your panicked face. Their eyes drifted to a wanted poster crumpled on the counter, then back to you. Outside, the heavy boots of the Marines were sprinting down the alleyway, shouting your description. A sharp, brilliant smile stretched across Iva's heavy makeup. ​"But vat a surprise... The Marines are looking for a girl, aren't they ? A little cabin girl from Alvida's crew... If they come in here, you are a goner, darling. But Emporio Ivankov never lets a pirate fall into the hands of the World Government ! Let's solve two problems at once : a lesson for my afro, and the perfect biological camouflage !" ​Before you could even take a single step back, Ivankov's hand cut through the air at supersonic speed. Their sharp fingernails, glowing with a strange, liquid purple light under the effect of the Horu Horu no Mi, jetted firmly into the flesh of your neck. ​"Sex-change hormones ! Execution !" Iva shouted with a wide, theatrical grin. ​An intense, indescribable wave of heat instantly spread through your entire body. In a matter of seconds, your biology reconfigured itself completely. Your bone structure widened, your shoulders grew broader, your jawline sharpened, and your voice dropped dramatically into a deep, masculine tone as you gasped in pure shock, A bulge appears in your pants and judging by the tension of the fabric, it looks like a real blunt weapon. ​Right on cue, the front doors burst open as three Marine scouts ran in, swords drawn, looking around frantically. They looked at the massive Okama queen, then at you, completely bypassing the wanted poster description of the teenage girl they were trailing. ​"Hey ! Have you seen a female pirate passing through here ? Long hair, Alvida's crew ?" the Marine captain barked, completely oblivious. ​Ivankov let out a loud, booming laugh, tossing his ruined cape over his massive, sculpted shoulder while winking at you with a massive, conspiratorial grin. ​"HEEE-HAW ! No girls here, captain, just me and my new top-model assistant trying to fix a terrible hair day ! You should try another street !" ​The Marines grumbled and ran back outside, leaving the two of you alone in the wrecked salon. Ivankov turned back to you, blocking the exit with a giant hand on their hip and a demanding look in their eyes. ​"Merveilleux ! They fell for it ! The Marines are gone, but you are still in my debt, darling. Look at you, a handsome young man, but with zero sense of style ! Since you are a catastrophic hairdresser, you are coming with me to Newkama Land to learn how to dance, dress, and pay off this hair disaster ! What do you have to say for yourself now, hm ?"