Flashback

Hashirama closed the attribute panel, an arrogant smile curving his lips.

"It's time to return to Wano."

Hashirama headed to the door, ready to leave. But before he could open it, a knock resonated on the door.

"Who is it?" he asked, his voice resonating with cold authority.

"It's Morgans, sir," replied a nervous voice from the other side. "And King is with me."

Hashirama opened the door, revealing Morgans and King. Both showed a mix of respect and fear on their faces, a reaction that Hashirama found deeply satisfying.

"Come in," Hashirama said, stepping aside to let them in, his eyes gleaming with a flash of superiority.

Morgans and King entered the luxurious room. Hashirama invited them to sit with a magnanimous gesture, and once they were comfortable, Morgans began to speak.

"Mr. Hashirama, the news of your return has caused an unprecedented stir around the world," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "The World Government has tried to control the situation, but the truth has spread like wildfire."

Hashirama nodded, showing no surprise. "I expected that."

"However, the Navy and Cipher Pol are taking drastic measures to silence anyone who talks about you or Imu," Morgans continued. "They have imposed strict censorship in the media and are arresting anyone who dares to defy them."

King clenched his fists, his face contorted with anger. "Those bastards. They try to hide the truth because they know they are on the wrong side."

Hashirama raised a hand, calming King with a condescending gesture. "Don't worry, King. The truth always finds a way to come out. And when it does, the World Government will fall, and I will have my revenge."

He turned to Morgans. "Keep informing the world, Morgans. Don't let the truth be silenced. The world needs to know the truth. And above all, they need to know that I, Hashirama Senju, have returned to save them."

Morgans nodded enthusiastically. "So it will be, Mr. Hashirama. I will make sure your name resonates in every corner of the seas!"

Hashirama smiled, pleased with the flattery. "I trust you, Morgans. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go to Wano. And you two are coming with me."

King smiled broadly, his eyes shining with a thirst for revenge. "Finally!"

Morgans, however, hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Mr. Hashirama... there is something I must tell you. Gloriosa, one of the empresses of Amazon Lily, contacted me through one of my branches. She said she was very happy about your return and that... she would like you to visit her in Amazon Lily. That she will fulfill the promise she made to you in the past."

Hearing Gloriosa's name, a smile appeared on Hashirama's face and a flash of nostalgia crossed his eyes. Remembering the orgy on Aphrodisiac Island and the incomparable young empress with white hair.

Flashback

The relentless midday sun beat down on the Calm Belt, a vast and treacherous sea where the wind was a myth and silence, a death sentence for ordinary ships. But Hashirama was not an ordinary sailor, and his "boat" was no ordinary vessel.

On a floating wooden platform, created by his own power, Hashirama was seated. Giant roots sank into the depths, seeking hidden currents to propel him forward. Intertwined vines formed a protective canopy against the scorching sun, while the tenderest leaves became makeshift sails that caught the slightest breeze.

(Images of the ship on my Patreon)

Hashirama, seated cross-legged at the center of his living raft, meditated in silence. His eyes were closed, but his sharpened senses perceived every ripple, every current, every creature moving beneath the surface. The Calm Belt was an aquatic desert, but to him, it was a Zen garden, a place to meditate and connect with nature.

Suddenly, a subtle but intoxicating aroma reached his nostrils. It was a fragrance with a smell of yogurt and musk, contrasting with the salty scent of the sea. Hashirama opened his eyes, a spark of curiosity shining in his gaze.

"What a familiar scent...," he murmured to himself. "...smell of women."

Following the trail of the aroma, the roots sank deeper, the vines extended like tentacles, and the raft began to move.

As he approached the source of the aroma, the fragrance intensified, filling his senses.

"This aroma...," he murmured, a malicious smile crossing his lips, "can only mean one thing... Amazon Lily."

Anticipation grew within him as the raft approached the island. Soon, the silhouette of a mountain with several giant snakes came into view, confirming his suspicions.

Stopping his raft at a prudent distance from the coast of Amazon Lily, with a gesture of his hand, the roots that had served as propulsion and anchor retracted, sinking into the depths of the ocean.

The raft, now inert, began to disintegrate slowly, its wooden components returning to the earth from which they had sprung. In a matter of minutes, there was no trace of his improvised vessel.

Hashirama plunged into the crystal-clear waters, gliding effortlessly through the waves. He swam with the strength and speed of a shark, driven by his desire for the island.

Upon reaching the shore, he emerged from the water like a dolphin, the water cascading over his red metal-plated armor. With a few simple hand seals, he stealthily advanced through the forest of Amazon Lily, thanks to Mokuton, he could move effortlessly through the place, as if he had been here before. Using wood clones to distract the warriors on guard while he infiltrated.

The island was an exuberant paradise, teeming with life. Hashirama observed with delight the women who inhabited it: some were young and beautiful, with sculptural bodies and long, dark hair; the more mature ones, with their experience and aura of authority.

He delighted in the feminine scent that permeated the island. The aroma, the sound of laughter and singing, the sight of the warriors training in the jungle... it was all a feast for his senses.

Following the trail of the intoxicating aroma that had guided him to the island, Hashirama reached the heart of Amazon Lily: the imposing white stone palace. The structure, carved into the mountainside, with its multiple levels, intricate balconies, and curved roofs.

Hashirama stopped at the foot of the grand staircase leading to the main entrance. With a gesture of his hand, he dispelled the camouflage jutsu that had hidden him until then.

His imposing figure, clad in battle armor, appeared out of nowhere, revealing his presence to the Kuja warriors guarding the palace.

The warriors, surprised by the sudden appearance of a man on their sacred island, reacted quickly. In an instant, dozens of bows were drawn, and Haki-infused arrows flew towards Hashirama, whistling through the air with lethal intent.

With a mocking smile on his face, he raised his right hand with a fluid movement. Emerald green energy flowed from his palm, quickly spreading across the stone ground. In the blink of an eye, a dense tangle of roots and vines emerged from the earth, intertwining and forming an impenetrable shield in front of him.

The arrows crashed against the wooden barrier, bouncing off harmlessly without even scratching the surface.

Without wasting a moment, Hashirama counterattacked. The roots of his shield extended towards the warriors, slithering across the ground. Before they could react, the Kuja found themselves trapped in a wooden net, their movements restricted and their weapons rendered useless.

A cry of surprise escaped their lips as they were lifted off the ground, suspended in the air by the twisting roots that wrapped around their bodies.

"Impressive," said Hashirama, his voice resonating with power and authority. "But this is just a small sample of what I can do."

With a nod of his head, the roots gently placed them on the ground, away from him. The women, stunned and disarmed, looked at him with a mixture of fear and fascination.

"I did not come here to fight," Hashirama said, his voice now softer and more persuasive. "I just wish to speak with your empress. I promise there will be no bloodshed... well, depending on the woman, maybe not."

With a lascivious smile, without bothering to look back, Hashirama ascended the grand staircase of the palace, his steps resonating on the ancient stone. He ignored the looks of astonishment and fascination from the Kuja warriors watching him from the balconies and windows. His attention fixed on the intoxicating aroma that promised unimaginable pleasures.

The interior of the palace was a labyrinth of hallways. Statues of giant snakes guarded every corner, their stone eyes seeming to follow Hashirama's every move. However, Hashirama advanced without hesitation, guided by the aroma that intensified with each step.

He climbed the spiral stairs, crossed courtyards filled with fountains and gardens, and finally reached the top floor of the palace.

There, a wooden door carved with the logo of the Kuja Pirates.

Hashirama, with a smile, opened the door and entered the room.

….

The moonlight filtered through the red silk curtains that adorned the spacious bedroom, creating an intimate and sensual atmosphere. The aroma of sex, mixing with the residual heat of the unrestrained passion that had filled the room seconds before.

Hashirama, with his imposing figure, stood by the balcony, contemplating the island bathed in the moonlight. His battle armor, now discarded in a corner, revealed his muscular and flawless-skinned torso. A satisfied smile crossed his face, recalling the moment of pleasure he had just experienced.

The large canopy bed, with its rumpled silk sheets and pillows scattered on the floor, was a silent testimony to the night's intensity.

On the bed, Gloriosa, the empress of Amazon Lily, slept deeply. Her bronzed skin glowed with the sweat of the recent encounter.

Her snow-white hair, now all sticky and disheveled, cascaded over her bare shoulders, framing her angelic face. Her long lashes rested on her cheeks, casting delicate shadows that accentuated her high cheekbones and straight nose. Her plump, sensual lips were slightly parted, with bite marks on them.

Her slender and voluptuous body, with pronounced curves and a narrow waist, was partially covered by the sheets, revealing her natural beauty. Her firm and lush breasts rose and fell with each breath, attracting the gaze like magnets. Her long and shapely legs extended under the sheets, hinting at a strength and agility that contrasted with her delicate appearance.

(Images of Gloriosa on my Patreon)

In the rest of the room, scattered on the floor and reclining on divans and rugs, lay other women of the island, all exhausted and with naked bodies. Some slept deeply, while others were awake, their gazes lost in the ceiling, their minds still processing the experienced. Their bodies, marked by Hashirama's semen, were a testimony to the unrestrained night they had shared.

Hashirama turned to the women, a malicious smile curving his lips. "You've been excellent hostesses," he murmured to himself. "But there are guests to attend to, so rest, I'll take care of it."

With a fluid movement, he donned his battle armor and left the bedroom, leaving behind the aroma of passion.

As he descended through the palace's hallways, a chill ran down his spine. His haki, sensing a powerful presence on the island.

He left the palace and headed towards the coast, following the trail of the energy he had perceived. The night was warm and humid, the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs and the chirping of crickets filled the air. But Hashirama was not deceived by the apparent tranquility.

Upon reaching the coast, he saw a solitary figure standing on the beach, silhouetted against the moonlight. It was a tall and muscular man, with a black cape billowing in the wind. His face was hidden in shadows, but Hashirama could feel his power, a dark and sinister energy that chilled his blood.

"So it's you…," said Hashirama, recognizing him from his wanted posters.

The figure slowly turned, a cruel smile forming on his lips.

"Hashirama Senju…," he said in a deep, guttural voice. "....I've finally found you."

(Images of Fenrir on my Patreon)

The figure that emerged from the shadows was imposing and threatening. A man slightly shorter than him, about three meters tall, with a massive musculature hinted at under a black beast-skin cape. His face, marked by scars and star tattoos. His eyes, a bright yellow, glowed with a wild and predatory light.

He wore hardened leather armor, adorned with animal bones and teeth. In his right hand, he wielded a double-bladed axe, as large as an adult man, vibrating with a dark energy.

But the most striking was his head. Instead of a human skull, he had the head of a giant wolf, with an elongated snout full of sharp teeth, pointed ears, and a mane of black hair falling over his shoulders.

This was Fenrir D. Ulfhednar, captain of the Berserker Pirates and bearer of the Inu Inu no Mi, Model: Fenrir, a Mythical Zoan that allowed him to transform into the legendary giant wolf of Norse mythology.

A man said to possess all three types of haki, which he mastered at an advanced level.

________

Time: If you're craving more (and I know you are!), I have just what you need. On my Patreon, you'll find exclusive chapters. Join our community and be the first to discover what happens next!

👉 [patreon.com/Athome790]

(There are +40 new chapters on my Patreon.)

Your support fuels me. Thank you for the support! 💖