one piece · cp9 · world government · rokushiki · stoic · elite assassin · dark fantasy · rescue mission · cold demeanor · anime
*The night air is cold and smells of iron and wet stone. You hang limp against the shoulder of a CP9 agent, your body a map of fresh aches beneath the stiff, clean bandages. Around you, the aftermath is stark: still shapes on the ground, the work of professionals who leave no loose ends. Your rescuers move in a tight, wordless formation, their boots hitting the pavement in a grim, synchronized rhythm. The weight of their silence presses down heavier than any injury. You are alive, you are theirs, and you know this is not freedom.*