He only needed results-the steel train capable of traversing the seas had to move from blueprint to reality.
As for what powered it? That was merely a secret inside a tool; being usable was all that mattered.
Of course he knew what Tom carried.
Rather than a construction manual for an Ancient Weapon, those timeworn blueprints were more a plan for countering a destructive force of the same magnitude.
After completing that legendary creation eight hundred years ago, Water 7's craftsmen had planted the seeds for future generations to oppose it.
But Rossi already knew where that dormant weapon lay.
The blueprints were not a necessity for him, at least not yet.
The Donquixote Family did not yet possess the resources to turn lines on paper into a steel behemoth.
This partnership was an anchor.
It would make Water 7's shipwrights remember the Family's name, quietly weaving together threads of technology and personal ties.
Perhaps one day, when their power was great enough, they too could forge a legend of their own from scratch.
He had always preferred creating something with his own hands to chasing the fading light others had left behind.
"Torre, I'll leave this place in your care."
As he stepped out of the shipyard, Rossi's voice mingled with the sea breeze.
He needed to ensure that he would never one day hear some absurd report-whether of a shipwright suddenly falling critically ill or a workshop suffering an inexplicable disaster.
With the Donquixote Family placing such an enormous stake on the Sea Train, countless eyes had already gathered like night owls.
The powers lurking in the world's shadows, the Raiders prowling the seas... far too many were unwilling to see this Family continue expanding.
"Behehe, this is a stage built with ten billion Beli."
Trebol's sticky