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50% Bubblegum Slime / Chapter 2: A Slime's Hunger

章 2: A Slime's Hunger

Giselle scrambled backward, heart racing, as she stared at her changed limbs. Horror and fascination clashed within her as she watched the slime reshape, her fingers reforming into their usual shape, but now with an unusual, almost otherworldly sheen. It took a moment for her to realize what had happened: she had eaten a cursed fruit, a Devil Fruit, and in doing so, she had gained a power unlike anything she'd ever dreamed of.

This new ability terrified her at first. Her body no longer felt entirely solid, and the lingering bitterness of the fruit made her stomach churn as if it were trying to reject the transformation. But as the initial shock faded, she realized that this strange new form had its advantages. She could stretch her arms, slip through tight spaces, and her limbs, while strange, felt resilient, indestructible even.

Giselle sat trembling, staring at her transformed hands, still unable to fully comprehend what she had become. Her body felt foreign, strange, as if she were an imposter within her own skin. She attempted to control the pink slime that now composed parts of her limbs, focusing on willing them back to their usual solid form. Slowly, the strange substance obeyed, retracting and reforming into something that looked like her old hands. But the feeling of wrongness lingered, as though she had merely covered up something unnatural.

The taste of the fruit still lingered in her mouth, bitter and vile, as if to remind her of the price she had paid for this bizarre transformation. She coughed, hoping to expel the unpleasant taste, but it was as though it had fused with her, as much a part of her now as her heartbeat.

Cautiously, Giselle began to experiment with her new abilities. She extended her arm, focusing on the sensation, willing it to stretch. To her amazement, her hand elongated, her fingers stretching and twisting with an elasticity that defied reason. She could extend her arm across the room, her fingers slipping under door cracks or around corners. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

She moved her hand toward a small, cracked mirror one of the older kids had scavenged from a junkyard. She needed to see what she looked like, to confront the transformation head-on. Staring back at her was a pale face, her golden eyes wide with fear and fascination. Her skin had taken on a faint sheen, and her reflection looked almost ghostly, as though she were fading between reality and something else.

As she reached out to touch the mirror, her fingers slipped into a gelatinous state, spreading across the glass before retracting, solidifying once again. She shuddered. This power was both a gift and a curse, something that might save her from the constant hunger she faced, but it also marked her as something... other. Something that didn't belong.

Days passed, and Giselle kept her new abilities a secret from the other street kids, hiding in the shadows whenever she felt the strange tingling that heralded her transformations. She didn't want them to see her as a monster, and, truthfully, she didn't fully understand the extent of her powers. But as she grew more accustomed to them, she discovered something else—something darker.

Her hunger had changed.

At first, she thought it was merely her usual starvation, a constant companion in her life. But this was different. She craved something beyond simple food, a strange, indescribable urge that grew each day. Normal food no longer satisfied her the way it used to. She could eat bread, fruit, even scraps of meat, but they tasted bland, empty, lacking in some crucial essence that her body now demanded.

One night, as she wandered the alleys looking for something, anything, to sate her hunger, she stumbled across a wounded bird, its wing broken, flapping feebly on the ground. Driven by impulse, she reached out to touch it, and in that moment, something extraordinary happened. Her hand shifted into slime, enveloping the creature, and before she could pull away, she felt a surge of energy as the bird disappeared into her hand. She gasped, horrified, but... satisfied. For the first time since eating the Devil Fruit, she felt truly full.

A flood of sensations rushed through her—a strange awareness, fleeting memories, instincts that weren't hers. She could almost feel the bird's heartbeat, its ability to fly, etched faintly into her consciousness. She stumbled back, breathing hard, both horrified and exhilarated. She had devoured it, absorbed its essence, and, in doing so, had taken something from it.

Giselle sat trembling, staring at her transformed hands, still unable to fully comprehend what she had become. Her body felt foreign, strange, as if she were an imposter within her own skin. She attempted to control the pink slime that now composed parts of her limbs, focusing on willing them back to their usual solid form. Slowly, the strange substance obeyed, retracting and reforming into something that looked like her old hands. But the feeling of wrongness lingered, as though she had merely covered up something unnatural.

Over the following weeks, Giselle realized that this was the true nature of her power. The Slime-Slime Fruit had given her the ability to absorb creatures, not just to consume them, but to incorporate parts of their abilities, their essence, into herself. It was a dark and dangerous gift, one that fed her hunger in a way that ordinary food could not.

The children she lived with began to notice changes in her. She moved more gracefully, sometimes slipping out of sight so quietly they wouldn't notice her leave. Her eyes gleamed with a new intensity, and she seemed to carry herself with an otherworldly confidence. Yet she avoided them more and more, fearing what might happen if her hunger grew beyond her control.

One night, a storm hit Sakura Island, and the alleyways flooded with rain. Giselle found herself alone in the abandoned building, her hunger gnawing once more. She ventured out, slipping through the rain-soaked streets, her body instinctively blending with the shadows, her slime form allowing her to mold to the contours of walls and slip unnoticed under the awnings of closed shops. She felt a strange thrill at the freedom her power granted her, but it was tinged with an ever-present dread.

She came across a stray cat huddled in a corner, its fur matted and wet. Her stomach growled again, and her hand extended toward the creature, transforming into a pink slime that wrapped around it. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever felt—she was absorbing its vitality, its very essence, pulling it into herself. When she drew her hand back, the cat was gone, and Giselle felt a strange warmth spreading through her veins, an alertness that hadn't been there before.

She stumbled back, shivering, realizing the depth of her power. She could absorb the abilities of anything she devoured. This power, as horrifying as it was, would allow her to survive. But it would also isolate her, set her apart, turn her into something far removed from the other children she called friends.

Rumors drifted through Sakura Island like wisps of smoke, barely noticeable at first, but eventually thickening, spreading from person to person.

As her powers grew, rumors spread. Whispers of a girl with unnatural abilities who prowled the streets at night, her form shifting, her eyes gleaming with an eerie pink glow. The island's guards became more vigilant, searching for the creature in the shadows. Giselle had become a myth, a slimy figure haunting the alleys of Sakura Island.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Back in her cell, chained and weakened, Giselle chuckled bitterly, the sound echoing softly off the damp stone walls. The memories of her misfortune, the twisted path that led her to this dark prison, played through her mind like a cruel joke. All of it had started from that single, stolen fruit, an act of desperation that had set her life on an irreversible path. She had once been a girl in the alleys of Sakura Island, a creature of rumors and whispered fear. But it wasn't her strange powers that ultimately brought ruin to her life. It was someone else.

Nico Odile.

As she thought back to her final days of freedom on Sakura Island, she remembered the mysterious woman she had once risked her life to protect—a woman who had come to her island like a storm and left it in ashes.

I hope she found peace living with her daughter. Now, what was the name she picked? Odette? No... Olivia? Not that one either. It certainly began with an 'O'... Oh, Olvia? Yes, that's it. Olvia.


章 3: The Night of a Slime's Awakening

Giselle awoke with a start, her thin mat providing little comfort against the cold, hard floor of the abandoned building she and the other street children called home. Her body jolted awake to a sound that she had never heard before—an earth-shattering explosion that seemed to tear through the very fabric of the night. She stumbled out of her tent, her heart racing, and her wide eyes stared out into a sky painted with flames. The stench of smoke and burning wood filled the air, and the dull orange glow reflected off every surface, turning her world into a hellscape.

Outside, chaos erupted. People screamed and ran in every direction as the once-peaceful streets of Sakura Island became a war zone. Houses were crumbling under the bombardment, and chunks of stone and wood flew through the air, crashing down onto the stalls and shops of the marketplace where she had spent so many days hiding, watching, and stealing.

She watched in horror as the life she knew unraveled before her eyes. Her friends, the other street kids, darted through the crowd, eyes wide with terror, dodging falling debris and soldiers who had begun marching through the chaos. Some were cut down by the soldiers, their cries silenced in an instant. Others were crushed by debris, their small, frail bodies disappearing under stone and rubble. Giselle froze, helpless, her stomach twisting with terror and helplessness. This place, these people, this was her life, and now it was being torn apart.

A fruit vendor she had stolen from countless times lay in the dirt, his hand outstretched toward her, eyes pleading, his words swallowed by the flames. She wanted to help, but she couldn't move. Fear paralyzed her, rooted her to the ground as she watched the only life she had ever known burn before her eyes. All she could do was clutch her fists, feeling the prickling sensation of her body shifting, her skin threatening to liquefy as her fear stirred the powers within her.

In her dazed state, Giselle stumbled through the burning streets, barely aware of where she was going. She tripped over rubble, her breath coming in shallow gasps, until she found herself colliding with a figure in dark, feathered clothes, her face half-hidden by shadows. The woman turned, her eyes sharp and assessing, and Giselle felt an instinctual fear mixed with awe. She recognized the aura of danger that this woman carried, a power that demanded respect and fear.

Odile Nico, the Black Swan, looked down at Giselle with an intensity that made her shiver. But as their eyes met, Odile's gaze softened slightly, her expression shifting to one of understanding. She reached out, her hand resting lightly on Giselle's shoulder, as if to anchor her in the madness.

"Are you lost, little one?" Odile's voice was calm, steady, even as the world crumbled around them.

Giselle couldn't find her voice, so she shook her head, feeling tears prick at the corners of her eyes. Odile seemed to understand the turmoil within her, and she knelt down, bringing herself to Giselle's level.

In the midst of the chaos, Giselle's wide, fearful eyes met Odile's calm, steady gaze. For a moment, time seemed to pause, the roaring flames and screams around them fading into the background. Odile knelt down, lowering herself to Giselle's level, her face softened with an understanding that Giselle hadn't seen in a long time—if ever.

"Hey there," Odile said quietly, her voice gentle, but carrying an undertone of urgency. "I know you're scared. I would be too. But right now, I need you to be brave, okay?"

Giselle nodded, her heart hammering in her chest. Odile's hand rested lightly on her shoulder, warm and grounding, a steady anchor in a world turned upside down.

"What's your name?" Odile asked softly.

"Giselle…" she whispered, barely able to keep her voice steady.

Odile smiled—a small, reassuring gesture that, for a brief moment, made Giselle feel safe. "Giselle, I'm Odile. I'm…well, let's just say I'm someone who doesn't exactly get along with the people out there causing all this destruction." She gestured toward the chaos on the streets, her eyes hardening as she looked at the burning buildings, the Navy soldiers marching through the marketplace.

"But why are they doing this?" Giselle's voice cracked, and her gaze flickered toward the bodies lying in the street, people she had known, people who had been kind to her in the little ways they could.

Odile's eyes softened with sorrow. She paused, as if searching for the right words to explain something far too big and dark for a young girl to understand. "They're here because they want to destroy something they're afraid of. You see, there's… knowledge, truths about the world, that they don't want anyone to know. They think it's dangerous. And because I've been…finding that knowledge, they decided that everyone on this island has to pay for it."

Giselle stared at her, the words making her stomach twist. "But…that's not fair," she muttered, her voice almost a whisper. "People shouldn't have to die because of something they didn't do."

Odile nodded slowly. "You're right. It's not fair. And it's not right. But that's how they operate. They don't care about right or wrong, they only care about control."

Giselle swallowed hard, trying to push down the fear that kept bubbling up. She wanted to believe in something, to feel like she had control over her life. But right now, everything seemed hopeless. She looked up at Odile, searching for reassurance.

Odile took a deep breath, her gaze steady and kind. "I know you're just a kid, Giselle, and I wish…I wish I didn't have to ask this of you. But I can't do this alone. I need someone who knows this island, someone who can help me find a place where I can keep something safe. You think you can help me with that?"

Giselle hesitated, biting her lip. She was just a twelve-year-old girl, a street rat, someone who barely scraped by each day. What could she possibly do to make a difference? But Odile's voice was warm, genuine, and there was something about her that made Giselle want to help, to do something good, even if just for once.

"You…you really need me?" Giselle asked, her voice wavering.

Odile nodded, her expression serious yet encouraging. "I do. You may not think you're much, Giselle, but you know these streets better than anyone, right? You're smart, you're brave… I can tell. And together, I think we can make a difference."

Giselle's gaze drifted to the ground, her fingers twisting in the hem of her ragged shirt. She thought of her friends, of the people who had been kind to her in the marketplace. She thought of the life she knew being torn apart by these strangers with guns and fire, and something hardened in her chest. She wanted to help Odile, to fight back in whatever way she could.

"What do you need me to do?" Giselle whispered, barely able to believe she was saying it.

Odile smiled again, this time with a hint of pride. "There's a library here, a hidden one, with books and things that the Navy doesn't want anyone to see. I need to hide something there, something very important. But I don't know this island like you do. Can you help me get there?"

Giselle nodded slowly, feeling a sense of purpose growing within her, pushing away some of the fear. "I…I think I can do that."

Odile squeezed her shoulder gently. "Thank you, Giselle. I know this is a lot to ask. And I promise, I'll do everything I can to protect you. Let's go, alright?"

Together, they slipped into the shadows, moving away from the chaos, with Giselle leading the way. As they walked, Odile kept talking to her, sharing bits of her story, her mission, explaining in simple, careful words that Giselle could understand. She spoke of the past, of civilizations and people who had been erased by those in power, simply because they had dared to ask questions, to seek the truth. Giselle listened, feeling a strange kinship with this woman who, despite her fearsome reputation, was gentle with her, treating her like an ally, not just a scared child.

As they walked through the ruined streets, Giselle felt her fear slowly transforming into something else. Anger. Determination. She didn't fully understand Odile's mission, but she knew one thing: she didn't want the Navy to win. Not after what they'd done to her home, to her friends.

They finally reached the hidden library, an unremarkable building that had somehow escaped the flames. Giselle guided Odile inside, her small hand trembling as she pushed open the creaky door. Inside, the smell of dust and old paper filled the air, and the dim light cast long shadows across the shelves, which were lined with books far older than anything Giselle had ever seen.

Odile looked around, her expression reverent, as though she was stepping into a sacred place. "This is perfect," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you, Giselle. You don't know how much this means."

Giselle nodded, a strange sense of pride filling her chest. She wasn't sure why, but Odile's approval felt important, as if she were more than just a lost kid in the eyes of this powerful, mysterious woman.

Odile led her to the back of the library, to a large stone wall that appeared unremarkable at first glance. But as they approached, she pointed to a faint, almost invisible crack running down the center. "This is it," she whispered, placing her hand on the stone. With a slight push, the wall shifted, revealing a narrow doorway that led into darkness.

Odile looked down at Giselle, her expression serious. "This is where I need to hide something very important. If the Navy finds it, they'll destroy it. And that's why I need you to help me protect it, just for a little while."

Giselle nodded, feeling the weight of the responsibility. She didn't fully understand what she was guarding, but she understood that it was something the Navy feared, something that threatened them enough to burn down her home. And that was enough.

As they stepped into the hidden room, Odile carefully placed a small scroll next to the massive stone tablet at the center of the room, which was covered in strange markings Giselle couldn't decipher. The stone had a presence, a gravity that made the air feel thick and heavy. Odile looked at it with a mixture of awe and sadness.

"This tablet… it holds knowledge of the world's true history, of things the government wants to keep buried," Odile explained, her voice soft. "One day, someone will come looking for this, someone who can understand it. And when they do, they'll learn the truth."

Giselle stared at the tablet, feeling the enormity of what they were doing. For the first time, she felt like she was part of something bigger, something meaningful. She was protecting a piece of the world's story, something that mattered.

But before they could finish, footsteps echoed from above, and voices shouted orders. The Navy had found them. Odile's face hardened, and she pushed Giselle back toward the hidden room. "Stay here. Don't come out, no matter what you hear," she whispered, her voice laced with urgency.

But as Odile moved to block the entrance, a Navy soldier appeared, his hand crackling with electricity. His gaze fixed on Giselle, the young girl frozen in terror, and without warning, he unleashed a bolt of lightning. The energy struck her, searing pain ripping through her body, and she screamed, every muscle convulsing as her mind went blank with agony.

In that moment, her powers surged, and she lost control. Her body transformed, expanding, dissolving into a mass of pink slime, a monstrous form fueled by pain, rage, and raw instinct. She could feel herself stretching, growing, consuming everything around her, including the soldiers who had attacked.

The last thing she saw before everything went dark was Odile's face, watching her with a mixture of sadness and acceptance, as if she had known this might be the end.

And in the darkness of Impel Down, Giselle remembered that look for the rest of her days—a silent promise that her actions had not been in vain.


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