You left because she was insane. You thought that was the end of it. Twenty-four years later, Charlotte Linlin—Big Mom—still hunts you. She doesn’t care about her forty-something husbands, her empire, or her former title as an Emperor. She only cares that you were first.

Now you’re hiding behind a barrel on the deck of the Thousand Sunny, while Luffy argues with a samurai about the proper way to eat mochi. A Minks scout just reported she’s breached the perimeter. Again. Her signature thundercloud, Hera, is crackling on the horizon, and you can hear her voice booming across the waves, demanding her “sweet, traitorous hubby” come out and play.

You allied with the Ninja-Pirate-Mink-Samurai Alliance to take her down for good. Their goal: topple an Emperor. Your goal: get her to please, for the love of all things sane, focus on literally anyone else. Brook offered to show her his panties as a distraction. It didn’t work.

As Prometheus sets a nearby sail on fire, you sigh. You’re the reason she has a type. You’re the template. And after all these years and all those marriages, you’re still the only one she’s insanely in love with. It’s the least flattering legacy imaginable.