Blades and alliances

Inside the captain's meeting room aboard the pirate ship Greatsword, the atmosphere was so heavy it felt as though water could be wrung from it.

On one side of the long table, a silver-haired youth casually sliced the sauce-drenched roast meat on his plate, the metal knife and fork gleaming coldly in his hands.

"Pepper, cinnamon, nutmeg... what a nostalgic blend of aromas." Boer sighed in satisfaction and slipped a tender, juicy piece of meat into his mouth.

To his left sat a grim-faced Thatch and Hunt with his arms folded. On his right, the red-faced captain, Roland, rubbed his fingers together uneasily, looking every bit like a prisoner awaiting his final sentence.

Standing nearby was Kurururu, who had just regained consciousness. He curiously studied the youth, who was even younger than he was, his eyes filled with disbelief.

The youth casually wiped the grease from the corner of his mouth with a thin sheet formed from iron sand, then leaned forward slightly and swept his gaze over everyone present. "Running around at sea and risking your lives, how much Beli do you gentlemen manage to save by the end of a year?"

Thatch snapped his head up, a suppressed growl rising from his throat. "Save money? Hah!" His heavily callused fist slammed into the oak tabletop, making the tableware rattle.

"To outsiders, we're the Greatsword Pirates, a name that strikes terror into people's hearts. But in reality? We're nothing more than seagoing hounds kept by the five great crime families!"

The burly man counted on his thick fingers, bitterness filling his voice. "From Flower Country to Bernia, I smuggle sulfur and weapons, risking the Marines hanging me. When luck's on my side, I can make seventy or eighty million Beli in one trip. If I happen across some 'extra income' like Mr. Roland along the way"-he cast a meaningful glance at the red-faced captain opposite him-"earning over a hundred million a month isn't out of the question."

Boer elegantly wiped his fingers. "But none of you look... particularly wealthy."

"Because those figures fall apart the moment you look closely!" Thatch rose in agitation and paced the cabin like a caged beast.

"The officers at the Marine Branch take a cut, dressing it up as an 'escort fee.'

"The kingdom's customs minister takes a cut, calling it a 'customs duty.' Even the local sheriff takes a fucking cut, under the name of a 'local coordination fund.'

"Without those parasites turning a blind eye, our ships couldn't even leave port!"

Hunt added darkly, "And that's not all. Those five ruthless crime syndicates in West Blue take another thirty percent, supposedly for issuing us 'operating licenses.'"

"Of what little money remains," Thatch said, sitting back down with a bitter smile, "thirty percent has to go to the men risking their lives, and there are ship repairs and supplies to pay for. That last little reserve has to cover the possibility of the Marines or the crime families throwing us away like garbage one day."

He raised his slightly trembling right hand. "Ten whole years of fighting on this sea, and all the wealth I've saved doesn't even amount to a third-rate noble's yearly income."

Roland, who had remained silent throughout, finally adjusted his collar and spoke with an aristocratic inflection. "I am Baron Caffia's business agent, primarily responsible for the Purple Iris Family's overseas trade."

He deliberately avoided Thatch's burning gaze. "Thanks to the family's protection, our merchant ships are generally spared harassment by pirates. In return, I receive a ten-percent share of the profits, with a steady annual income of ten to twenty million Beli."

Boer nodded slightly, and a metal cube began turning soundlessly in his palm. "Very good. Now it's my turn. Aaron Ball, wielder of the Magnet-Magnet Fruit. As for its previous wielder..." The cube suddenly stopped in midair. "You may have heard his name-Captain John."

"C-Captain John?!" Roland shot to his feet, his face deathly pale. "That legend with a bounty of one and a half billion Beli in the New World!"

"The very same." The corners of Boer's lips lifted slightly, and the cube suddenly blazed with a searing red light. "But I believe my achievements will far surpass his."

Under everyone's horrified gaze, the metal cube began to deform within the confines of the magnetic field. Its molecular structure rearranged and layered itself in the intense heat, finally becoming a standard-issue long blade that gleamed with a chilling light.

With a clack, the long blade was casually tossed onto the table, ringing clearly as its edge met the wood.

"Find a blade and test it." Boer tipped his chin toward Thatch.

When Hunt brought over a cutlass commonly used by pirates, Thatch took a deep breath and held a blade in each hand.

He stepped back half a pace, every muscle in his body suddenly tensing, and smashed the two keen blades together with a whistle through the air!

Clang!

At the first clash, the blade Boer had forged had already bitten three finger-widths into the cutlass's edge.

A fierce look flashed through Thatch's eyes, and he exerted more strength through his arms. With a sharp crack, the cutlass forged from refined iron snapped in two!

Yet the standard-issue long blade on the table still gleamed coldly, its edge as flawless as before.

Thatch stared at his excited reflection in the blade, his chest heaving.

He suddenly dropped to one knee, his voice hoarse with excitement. "Please lead us, Mr. Boer!"

Roland was even more impatient, seizing Boer's hand with a gleam like gold coins in his eyes. "Weapons of this quality are worth at least five hundred thousand Beli apiece on the black market! If they could be mass-produced..."

The youth casually withdrew his hand and delivered a startling statement. "With enough materials, producing two hundred a day wouldn't be a problem."

The meeting room instantly fell deathly silent. Thatch and Roland both began calculating in their heads, then both drew sharp breaths.

That meant an astonishing profit of nearly a hundred million Beli every day!

The number left both the battle-hardened pirate captain and the calculating merchant shipping agent dizzy.

Boer surveyed their stunned expressions. Though quiet, his voice carried an unquestionable force. "This is only the beginning. Follow me, and you will witness a true legend."