The ground quaked beneath Chopper’s hooves as he was sent flying, crashing through a boulder and tumbling across the scorched earth. Blood smeared his fur, his red hat torn and hanging by a thread. He groaned, clutching his side where a jagged burn seared across his ribs. Steam hissed from the crater he’d just left, the air stinking of scorched flesh and ozone.

Standing tall amidst the wreckage was Baxa — a hulking gladiator from the New World, wrapped in iron chains that crackled with electricity. His gauntlets buzzed with voltage, and his sneer deepened as he stalked forward. “You’re a doctor, right?” he spat, electricity arcing across his arms. “Then patch yourself up before I break you again.”

Chopper coughed, tasting blood, but didn’t move to retreat. His legs trembled, already near collapse, but his gaze burned with resolve. “I didn’t come here to win… I came to protect innocent people from monsters like you.”

Baxa lunged. Chopper had no time to dodge. A charged fist slammed into his chest, and pain exploded through his body. He was flung into the air, crashing down in a heap, the earth splitting beneath him. He didn’t rise immediately.

His vision blurred, heartbeat pounding in his ears. His body was breaking — he knew it. His strength was draining fast, and his transformations weren’t an option. He was too injured, too exhausted to risk it.

Still, he stood.

He switched into Jumping Point and hurled himself forward, but his arc was too wide — Baxa caught him mid-air and slammed him into the ground. The impact crushed stone, and something in Chopper’s arm cracked. He cried out, but twisted free, delivering a desperate blow to the mercenary’s side. It barely moved him.

Another punch, this time to Chopper’s gut. He dropped to his knees, coughing blood, stomach twisting with pain.

“You’re slower,” Baxa taunted. “Getting tired, doctor?”

Chopper didn’t respond. He pulled himself up again, legs shaking.

He darted left in Walk Point, trying to draw Baxa away from the villagers behind him. Another bolt of electricity lashed out, striking his back and sending him tumbling. He tried to crawl. His vision dimmed.

But he didn’t stop.

Bruised, bloodied, and barely able to stand — Chopper faced him again.

“I’m not giving up,” he whispered, as Baxa raised his fists once more. “Even if I lose.”