The nightingale and the viper

A wax seal bearing an exquisite nightingale design lay quietly on the desk of young master Daniel, heir to the Kent Family.

He knew that mark all too well. It belonged to Camille, the rose with poisonous thorns that bloomed in the darkness of the Nightingale Tavern.

Daniel Kent, the family's direct-line heir, was lounging lazily in a soft velvet armchair.

He was only in his early twenties, but years of indulgence had already left unmistakable marks on him. Heavy dark circles spread like smudged ink beneath his eyes, lending his once reasonably handsome face a sickly pallor.

He casually picked up the faintly perfumed letter and twisted his somewhat stiff neck, making his joints give a soft click.

"That bitch Camille..." he muttered, though an amused smile curled his lips.

As he remembered her, she was a woman who knew her place and how to use her assets. Both her enticing figure and her skill at pleasing men in bed were first-rate.

But she rarely approached him of her own accord. After all, she juggled Sheriff Wyman Matt and that pirate Thatch. She was no pushover herself.

At the thought, a contemptuous smile mingling superiority with the desire to conquer surfaced on his face. With the Kent Family's all-encompassing power in Silver City behind him, toying with a moderately attractive woman like her could not have been easier.

He only had to invoke the Kent Family's name and hint that its head was his own maternal uncle. What woman would not obediently submit? He had more mistresses like Camille than he could count on his fingers.

Still, a lewd thought crossed his mind, it's a shame I never got to join that sheriff, my "brother-in-law," and really "work over" this proud nightingale together.

He casually crumpled the letter and tossed it into the wastebasket, then let out a long yawn. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught his own reflection, hollowed out by drink and debauchery, but paid it no mind. He summoned an attendant and drawled, "Get the carriage ready. We're going to the Nightingale Tavern."

The ornate rickshaw, pulled by two burly servants, traveled unimpeded through the streets of Silver City. Pedestrians hurried aside, their faces filled with reverence or fear.

Daniel reclined against the soft cushions, feeling a faint heat of desire rise in his groin, and unconsciously swallowed.

When he arrived outside the tavern, it was still early, and the establishment had not opened. But the bodyguards stationed outside in the uniforms of the Kent Family's private guards immediately reacted like hunting dogs greeting their master. Their faces filled with fawning smiles as they bowed deeply and respectfully pushed open the heavy wooden door for him.

With the somewhat unsteady, splay-footed gait of a man weakened by years of indulgence, young master Daniel passed through the empty ground-floor hall without a glance. Knowing his way well, he headed straight upstairs and pushed open the door to Camille's bedroom, filled with a woman's fragrance.

Camille sat with her back to him before the ornate dressing mirror, apparently brushing her lustrous, wavy hair as it cascaded down like a waterfall. The mirror reflected her lovely profile. Her expression was calm, betraying neither pleasure nor anger.

A smug smile of complete control appeared on Daniel's face. He softened his footsteps and crept closer like a cat toying with its prey.

He reached out and, with utter familiarity, began playing with a lock of Camille's hair that hung over her shoulder. It felt cool and smooth. Bending down, he brought his lips close to her pale ear, his warm breath washing over it as he whispered in a casual yet unquestionable tone:

"What's wrong? Is our noble Miss Nightingale feeling unwell today, or... are you so unbearably lonely that you need me to come relieve you myself?"

As he spoke, he frivolously sniffed at the side of her neck, where the seductive violet perfume she habitually wore lingered.

Camille's body stiffened almost imperceptibly. She did not turn around, merely pushing his hand away from her hair with a discreet but unmistakable firmness. Then she slowly rose, walked with poise to the bed, and sat down with her hands folded on her knees and her head slightly lowered.

"Thatch is back." Her voice was soft, yet it sent ripples through Daniel's heart like a stone dropped into a still lake.

Daniel froze for a moment, then gave an utterly contemptuous snort. "Oh? That beaten dog? What, has a few years out there made him think he can fly? Does he want revenge on me?"

An offended, dangerous gleam flashed in his eyes as he spoke, as though he had heard some colossal joke. Even as he talked, he began undoing his belt, his tone growing impatient:

"Enough nonsense. Lie down and be quick about it! My time is precious. The Kent Family has plenty of 'serious business' to handle next. As for Thatch... tell him to wash his neck and wait to die!"

He thought this was just another ordinary "audience," with him in command.

But Camille raised her head. Her beautiful eyes, usually seductive, sorrowful, or submissive, narrowed slightly, a cold gleam Daniel had never seen before flickering within them.

"He found a child," Camille said, her voice still calm but seemingly carrying some sort of magic that stopped Daniel's hands on his belt. "A Devil Fruit User."

"A Fruit User?" The contempt on Daniel's face instantly froze. The heat in his lower body ebbed like the tide, replaced by a chill rising up his spine.

Almost instinctively, he awkwardly fastened his newly loosened belt again, his movements carrying a trace of panic even he failed to notice. Cautiously, he asked, "Wh... what kind of ability?" A Devil Fruit User-this went beyond ordinary pirates or disputes over mistresses. Every Fruit User meant trouble, or perhaps... opportunity?

Watching the sudden change in his expression, Camille's lips curved into an almost imperceptible, icy smile.

She rose and pressed close to Daniel of her own accord, like an elegant, dangerous beauty of a snake.

The astonishing fullness of her soft breasts brushed against his arm, offering a tantalizing sensation. She tilted her head back, parted her red lips, and breathed fragrant words across his cheek:

"It's... the Magnet-Magnet Fruit."

"The Magnet-Magnet Fruit?!" Daniel felt as though a bolt of electricity had struck the top of his head and shot through his entire body! Cold sweat almost immediately seeped from his forehead and back, soaking the silk garment beneath his clothes.

His facial muscles twitched stiffly as he forced out a fawning smile uglier than a grimace. "Th-that's wonderful! Is... is it the Magnet-Magnet Fruit of that Captain John... the man ranked alongside those legendary great pirates, Golden Lion Shiki and Whitebeard Edward Newgate?" His voice trembled slightly with shock and a trace of indescribable excitement.

Camille sneered inwardly at his loss of composure, though her expression remained alluring. But she was not finished.

"That child is very easy to fool." She continued in that slow, spellbinding voice, as though recounting a story that had nothing to do with her. "A brute like Thatch only needed a few empty promises to keep him firmly under his thumb. Do you know what he had him do?"

Daniel now felt as though he stood at the edge of a cliff, his heart clenched in an invisible hand.

The woman before him, whom he had toyed with countless times and believed entirely within his control, now filled him with an unprecedented sense of helplessness.

He could only ask hoarsely, "Wh... what did he have him do?"

As though suddenly losing interest in him, Camille gently pushed him away and returned to the dressing table. Picking up an exquisite ivory comb, she leisurely brushed her long hair.

"Make swords," she said lightly.

"M-make swords?" Daniel froze, his mind seemingly crashing, utterly unable to understand. A powerful Devil Fruit User, not plundering or fighting for supremacy, but being used to... forge iron?

Yet Camille's next words struck his heart like a heavy hammer, making his entire body shudder violently. Blood surged to his head, and he even heard a ringing in his ears!

"Quality comparable to the 50 Skillful Grade Blades. Each one is worth at least five hundred thousand Beli." Through the mirror, she watched the wastrel behind her, who looked as though he had been immobilized by a spell, and clearly enunciated every word. "And that child can make two hundred a day."

"Holy fucking ***!!! Thatch!!! He's a fucking genius!!!" Daniel abruptly burst out swearing, his face twisting with extreme shock and wild joy!

He instantly understood the terrifying profits this represented! A hundred million Beli in pure profit every day! It was practically a mountain of gold that grew on its own!

But after the wild joy came deeper wariness and calculation. He abruptly caught himself, drew several deep breaths, and forcibly suppressed the raging waves within him. His gaze turned sharp and greedy, fixed intently on Camille's reflection.

"Then..." His voice regained a measure of composure, though it carried a barely perceptible urgency. "What do you mean by telling me all this?"

He approached her again. This time, his hands no longer toyed frivolously with her, but rested gently on her soft lower abdomen in an almost ingratiating gesture. His chin settled on her shoulder as he whispered into her ear like the most intimate of lovers.

Camille let him hold her, neither resisting nor responding, and merely said flatly:

"I'm only a helpless woman, Daniel. You can ask around yourself. Their fleet arrived at the docks this morning. The first thing Thatch did was give every one of the more than a hundred and forty pirates under him a million Beli to settle down! Just to settle down! And the first shipment-a full eight hundred blades and a hundred suits of armor-has already been delivered to... Baron Caffia's estate."

Baron Caffia! That fellow who was always trying to get a share of the family's affairs, who had a little cleverness but lacked courage! He had actually gotten there first! Daniel's pupils abruptly contracted as a powerful sense of crisis and fury at being beaten to the prize surged through him.

"Darling!" Daniel abruptly turned Camille around, forcing her to face him.

His eyes instantly filled with "deep affection," as though his earlier loss of composure and calculations had never happened. Tilting his head, he gently licked Camille's sensitive ear with extreme intimacy and whispered beguilingly, "Help me! As long as this works out, I swear I'll marry you! In the name of the Kent Family's heir, I promise to make you the rightful Lady Kent! To free you from all of this!"

An almost inaudible snort escaped Camille's nose, carrying a trace of mockery, or perhaps the desolation of someone who had long since given up hope. "What do you want me to do?" Her voice betrayed no emotion.

Wild joy flashed in Daniel's eyes. He knew this woman was tempted-or rather, that she had no other choice. "Tell him! Tell Thatch, and that Fruit User child! Our Kent Family is willing to become their staunchest, most generous partner! Tomorrow, at our family estate, I'll hold a banquet with the highest honors to welcome our most 'beloved' friends!" His words brimmed with enthusiasm, but deep within his eyes flickered a cold, viperlike light.

He kissed Camille's cheek, leaving a wet mark heavy with possessiveness and meaning.

Then he reached out and roughly groped her rounded backside, as though venting something, his tone turning forceful and threatening. "Remember, Camille! If you can arrange this meeting successfully, I, Daniel Kent, will definitely marry you! I swear it on the family's name! But if you dare play any tricks..." He did not finish, but his icy gaze said everything.

The flames of greed seared his nerves completely. He could stay no longer, desperate to hurry back to the Kent Family's fortresslike estate at once.

To tell his uncle, Marquis Kent, the man who truly controlled Bernia's shadow world, this earth-shattering news that could change the family's fate-no, shake the entire Underworld of the West Blue.

He gave Camille another long look, as though to engrave her completely into his mind, then turned and all but ran out of the room. Even his farewell was hurried and perfunctory.

Camille was left alone in the empty, lavish bedroom. She stood quietly before the dressing mirror, looking at the woman whose beauty remained unchanged but whose eyes had turned cold as frost.

Slowly, she raised her hand and vigorously wiped the cheek Daniel had kissed, along with the places he had roughly touched, as though trying to scrub away something filthy.

The woman in the mirror slowly curled her lips into a cold, cruel smile.

At that moment, this self-important apex predator, who had roamed the Kingdom of Bernia for decades, was following that incomparably sweet bait, swimming willingly, step by step, toward the net of destruction already woven for him, surging with electromagnetism.

The outcome had, in truth, long been decided.

From the moment Boer's feet touched Bernia's soil and he felt the resonance of its vast magnetic field, the Kent Family's fate had already been written.

Destruction was their only destination.

Weakness was the original sin.

Only, the path to destruction had become even more... interesting, thanks to the ambitions and greed of those who each harbored their own schemes.