Shakky

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The group members watched in stunned silence as their leader crashed into a nearby stand. Jack's icy gaze turned to them, a silent warning flashing in his eyes.

"You cross paths with me or my family, you pay the price," Jack stated in a tone as cold as ice. His warning echoed through the silent grove, reaching every onlooker.

The rest of the group scrambled to their feet and retreated hastily, dragging their unconscious leader away. Jack's eyes followed their retreating figures, his message delivered loud and clear. He then began walking again, his imposing figure parting the crowd.

Walking a little further, Jack's attention was caught by a scene unfolding ahead. A group of beautifully poised women were surrounded by a circle of gruff men, each brandishing a weapon with a cocky grin. The incongruity of the situation struck him immediately. Unlike the typical victims of such situations, these women showed no signs of fear or distress.

At the center, a tall woman with a rebellious shock of black hair spiked upwards stood nonchalantly. A slim, trailing plume of smoke curled from the cigarette balanced at the corner of her lips, signifying her casual disdain for the men around her. Jack's eyes narrowed as he focused on her. Despite her seeming indifference, he could perceive a hint of disgust etched subtly onto her otherwise emotionless face.

As Jack prepared to intervene, he halted, contemplating the unusual scene. The women seemed unafraid, and he felt no immediate threat from their aggressors. Still, the innate protector within him urged him to step in. The atmosphere was electric with anticipation, the crowd watching with bated breath, awaiting the resolution of the stand-off.

"Having fun surrounding a bunch of ladies, boys?" Jack's voice cut through the tension, his icy tone reverberating through the quiet. The circle of men turned their heads to identify the newcomer. Their eyes landed on the tall, imposing figure of Jack, who stood just outside their ring, his cold gaze unwavering.

The leader of the group, a burly man with a sinister smile, eyed Jack warily. "None of your business, mate," he spat, his hand tightening on the gun he held.

Ignoring the man's retort, Jack directed his gaze to Shakky. His voice softened, "Do you ladies need help?"

Shakky let out a puff of smoke, her eyes not leaving the man she was talking to earlier. But a slight upturn of her lips suggested a smirk. "Well, aren't you a knight in shining armor?" Her voice was heavy with sarcasm, but Jack didn't miss the underlying amusement.

"Very well then," Jack responded, standing back with a shrug. His icy gaze never left the group of men, his body language open yet subtly challenging.

"Oi! We're not done with you, big guy," the leader growled, irritated at being ignored. His cronies backed him, their hands twitching nervously on their weapons.

Jack simply stared at the man, his expression unchanged. "You should be," he replied, his voice colder than the deepest winter. The air around them seemed to drop a few degrees. His icy aura was palpable, causing the onlookers to gasp in silent awe.

"You're already in more trouble than you can handle," Jack smirked, leaning casually against a nearby tree. His gaze, sharp and penetrating, never strayed from the unfolding scene. As his Haki connected with each of the women, he could feel the deep undercurrents of power that they carried within them. He knew these were no ordinary women; they were the Kuja Pirates, strong and independent.

Shakky, the raven-haired leader, cast a sidelong glance at Jack. There was a spark of interest in her eyes, but she didn't show it outright. With a final puff on her cigarette, she flicked the butt away, stepping forward to take her place at the forefront of her group.

"Ladies," she began, her voice cutting through the palpable tension in the air like a knife. "Let's show these gentlemen what happens when they bite off more than they can chew."

One by one, the women moved, their movements synchronized and flawless. There was a ballet-like grace to their approach, but underneath that elegance lurked a predator's lethal precision.

A flurry of activity erupted. Shakky was the first to strike. In a flash, she closed the distance between her and the burly leader of the men. Her fist connected with his jaw, sending him sprawling backwards. Another woman, her golden hair gleaming under the afternoon sun, lashed out with a whip that she had hidden under her clothing. The whip crackled in the air, wrapping around a gun-wielding man and yanking him off his feet.

The other women followed suit. Some opted for hand-to-hand combat, while others unleashed powerful abilities. They moved as one, each covering the others' blind spots, leaving no room for the men to counter-attack.

All the while, Jack watched, his eyes gleaming with approval. It was not the violence that he admired, but the unity and strength the women displayed. A soft chuckle escaped him as he watched the men scramble, clearly taken aback by the fierce resistance.

After disposing of the men, Shakky dusted off her hands and turned her cool gaze to Jack. The disgust that radiated from her was almost tangible, and the looks on the faces of the other women mirrored hers. Jack, no stranger to such sentiments, shrugged nonchalantly and began to walk away. His intuition told him that their disdain was not solely due to the actions of the men they had just disposed of. It was a universal hatred for men, deeply rooted and almost instinctual.

However, he was interrupted by Shakky's sharp voice. "Mr. Knight, aren't you going to ask for your reward? A kiss or maybe more?" She sneered, her tone dripping with contempt. "You men are always the same."

Jack paused mid-step, turning to face her with a sly grin. His icy blue eyes met hers, radiating a calm confidence. "Just because you keep running into one type of man doesn't mean all men are the same. It only means that you are seeking one type of man."

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