"Why do you care so much about that fruit? If I remember right, the records say it's far from perfect."
Monet looked puzzled as Werther carefully put away the Artificial Devil Fruit.
"Not perfect? Vegapunk should be proud he made this Devil Fruit. If you ever meet him, thank him for me. Tell him the Thunder Swordsman admires what he created."
Monet smoothed the hair the fight had left in disarray.
"How would I ever meet Vegapunk? Do you know him well?"
Werther's words piqued Monet's curiosity.
"Hmm. I suppose you could say I know him."
"You suppose?" Monet was even more confused.
"The last time I saw him was at a secret Marine research base. I tried to kidnap him. He ran, and I chased him."
"I'm sure he remembers me."
Monet parted her lips, but for a moment she had no idea what to say.
Of course he remembers. She had just fought Werther herself. She knew how terrifying it felt.
She also suspected Werther had held back against her—if he hadn't simply been toying with her.
The thought annoyed her.
Then an arm suddenly pulled her into an embrace. She startled, but once she recognized the presence beside her, she was at a loss for words. What was this man doing?
"You heard Doffy just now. He agreed, so you're mine."
Monet dissolved into a flurry of snow, slipped from Werther's arms, and re-formed a short distance away.
"The Young Master never said he was giving me to you, and the Young Master never would."
"I was only ordered back to Dressrosa. Don't do anything strange to me."
Werther laughed as he looked at her.
"Don't mind me. I was just doing something I'd always wanted to do in my previous life."
"Now, let's deal with things