Given The Pink Slip

The silence was dragging far longer than Dante had anticipated. The look on Dragon's face spoke of pain, regret and acceptance, which was a cocktail of emotion Dante wasn't willing to touch with a ten foot pole.

He'd gotten his point across, and he'd lost any faith he had with the Revolutionary Army by that point anyway. Call it petty, but he wasn't willing to be left out to dry without payment, so he took his pound of flesh from the man. Now though, he didn't have much reason to stay, given the fact that he definitely wasn't going to be paid now.

He turned around from Dragon, proud of himself for sufficiently tearing the man apart verbally, only to notice that everyone around him was on guard and tense. His mind raced, and instantly he came to the conclusion that they don't want him to leave alive.

It made sense, after all. Dante knew far too much, and could dismantle the whole operation by telling the wrong people. To them, he was a pirate that would sell them out in a split second to the World Government for a price. His speech to their leader didn't help.

"My Devil Fruit is a tool of justice. Used only to assist in the continued freedom of others. I do not lash out against the weak, nor do I submit beneath the strong. I fight for those who cannot fight themselves."

Dragon's voice was slow and terse, and his gait was confident as he walked once again into Dante's line of sight. His hands were held away from his cloak, open and ready to be used to attack.

"As such, I don't deem it necessary to use it on this day. In fact, I don't believe I'll need it."

As he was talking, his troops slowly drew weapons as they all pointed arms at Dante, the half-devil quickly finding himself surrounded on all sides. The air in the room changed, Dante noted.

Dragon glared, and Dante simply watched. Then, as though expecting something, Dragon seemed astonished for a moment, before glaring again. He repeated this motion several times, focusing his Conquerors Haki squarely on Dante in a bid to incapacitate him through raw spiritual presence.

"You having trouble there, buddy? Hey, listen it's natural when you get to that age. We can't all win with the ladies."

Dante had no idea what it was that Dragon was doing, but he felt severely uncomfortable.

"Hm. I see. So be it."

Dragon had seemingly made some resolution to himself, because soon after he lowered down, hunching slightly as he held his hands open in a claw position. He then imbued them with Armament Haki, turning them into deadly weapons on their own. In Dante's mind, it wasn't nearly as cool as what Judge did.

Now that everyone was seemingly in position to jump him, and Dragon had finished his pompous speech, Dante slowly cracked his knuckles and surveyed the room once more, coming to the conclusion that these people were somehow confident they could take him on. Were he a lesser man, he would try negotiate peace, or bargain. Dante Sparda is not a lesser man.

"Omae wa mou... shindeiru."

────────────────────

Activating Quicksilver, Dante summoned his Rebellion and began walking around the room, impaling each and every Revolutionary that was willing to shoot him down where he stood, taking his sweet time as he did so.

Slowly but surely the number of people in the room that were still breathing dwindled, until all that remained was Dragon himself, who still held his ironically dragon-esque posture and an asinine belief that he could beat Dante in a fight, despite knowing his strength.

Returning to his previous position in front of Dragon, Dante disengaged the Quicksilver and watched the Revolutionary Army fall with rapt attention. Screams echoed out, a cacophony of terror as countless bodies fell to the ground in an instant. Dragon's eyes widened, his breathing quickened, but he didn't feel fear just yet.

"Sorry about the blood. Just figured I'd make it an even fight."

Dragon's eyes refocused as he belatedly realised Dante was no longer stood before him, the half-devil instead now sat atop the body of an unfortunate Revolutionary, one leg crossed over his knee as he twirled his sword around.

"Ya know - I just figured I'd say this before you try anything - the only reason you're not dead right now is cause you're Luffy's dad. Beyond that, there's nothing keeping me from killing you where you stand."

Dragon stopped. Dante knew his son? Held enough value to him that he kept him alive? This had potential. Luffy was the key, his existence would fix the wounds of this broken world, if Dante were to be there then the boy's safety was increased significantly. He wouldn't need to use Penance against the Red Devil, and risk damaging everything he has.

"Red Devil, I ask that we stand down, and end our quarrel here. I do not wish to fight you, and risk losing any more of my people in the crossfire. If your words are to be believed, it would harm Luffy to hear of your demise- "

The next instant, Dragon's breath was forced from his throat, his body held in the air as he scratched against Dante's hand crushing his windpipe. He reached for the power of his Devil Fruit, prepared himself to enact Judgement against Dante with the last dregs of his consciousness until suddenly, he was on the floor, coughing and wheezing but alive nonetheless.

He looked up, his vision hazy and unfocused, and was met with Dante's cold gaze, the blue of his eyes seemingly glowing as he stared down at the cloaked man.

"I'm not the one whose gonna be having news spread about their 'demise' if we fight, pal. I'm sure I've made that clear today, but either way I ain't in the mood to deal with your shit."

Dante made the vow that if Dragon even breathed funny in his direction he would gut the slimy bastard, Luffy's trust in him be damned. He wasn't about to be talked down to by Dragon of all people, after all.

With his final piece spoken, Dante once again summoned the Yamato and opened a portal directly to the Germa Kingdom, realising that he had left the Deadweight on their front porch after thinking over the last few days.

He wasn't about to leave his prized vessel with people who hold more than just a grudge against him. He wouldn't be surprised if they sold it at that point, just to spite him.