Where Devil Fruits came from, or how their names were decided—William had no idea.
What he did know was the same common knowledge everyone in this world shared: Devil Fruits were divided into three main categories—Logia, Zoan, and Paramecia.
Logia Fruits allowed the user's body to transform into an elemental state, rendering ordinary physical attacks useless. Zoan Fruits granted the ability to transform into animals, or partially adopt their traits, greatly enhancing physical attributes and favoring close-quarters combat. Paramecia Fruits were the catch-all category for everything else, their powers bizarre and varied.
While each type had its weak and strong fruits, Logia Fruits were universally recognized as the rarest and most powerful.
Even Barbarossa's Paramecia, the Hair-Hair Fruit, had left William helpless in direct combat. He'd only managed to win by exploiting its weakness. If a Paramecia alone had been that troublesome, then a Logia's power—true elementalization—was on another level entirely.
William knew this, and so did the others. That was why, when he revealed his fruit was a Logia, every man in the bathhouse reacted strongly.
Tony's expression was complicated, envy flashing in his eyes before he quickly masked it. Aramis and Edmund, by contrast, looked openly thrilled, unable to hide their excitement. Even Sherlock, usually calm and reserved, gripped his towel a little tighter.
"Jackpot!" Edmund whooped, waving his towel like a banner. "If it's a Logia, do we still need to fear Roy and Arcadio anymore?"
"The entire East Blue might not have a single person who can stand against you," he went on, pacing the steaming pool with rising fervor. "Let's just kill those bastards, chop them into pieces, and avenge Valon!"
Tony quickly buried his jealousy and echoed Edmund's cry.
Aramis said nothing, though his silence hinted at temptation.
William, still lounging at the pool's edge, didn't share their optimism. He watched Edmund with mild amusement. Sherlock, whose own father had died thanks to Arcadio, burned just as much for revenge, but his mind was sharper. He thought further ahead than Edmund and voiced no rash agreement.
Then, from outside, came the sound of footsteps. The sliding door creaked open and a voice rang out before the figure entered.
"Chop who into pieces?"
"Ajin!" Edmund shouted in delight.
The newcomer was indeed Ajin, the man William had sent undercover in the Navy. Unlike the others, Ajin hadn't been in Maple Village. He had to take leave from the branch office, sneak aboard a vessel, change into civilian clothes, and slip back here unnoticed. The speed at which he'd managed it was impressive.
Aramis teased, "What, here to arrest us?"
Ajin flipped him the middle finger and dropped into the pool without hesitation, settling down right beside William. William clapped him warmly on the shoulder, the gesture carrying a closeness far greater than what he showed the others.
In truth, even in a bathhouse, the seating arrangement told a story of closeness and distance.
Tony sat opposite William, the farthest position. That wasn't because William excluded him—it was Tony's own pride. His uncle Omar was Maple Village's chief, and Tony himself had been its local boss. Now that William had made the village his stronghold, Tony couldn't quite reconcile his own standing. Even though Sherlock had spoken sense into him, he still carried himself as if he were different from the others.
Sherlock sat near William's right side. After the fall of the Flashgold Merchant Guild, the killing of local officials, and the scandal involving Arcadio's mistress, he had tied his fate firmly to William. Smarter than Tony, he knew money alone made him a sheep among wolves. If he wanted revenge on Arcadio and a revival of his family's fortunes, William was his only path forward.
Edmund, standing boldly in the middle of the pool, was simpler. He admired William from the heart. He had witnessed William's sword talent at the dojo, his shrewdness in smuggling, his unyielding resilience through setbacks. And now, at just eighteen, William had boarded Barbarossa's ship alone, avenged Valon, and even seized the captaincy. To Edmund, William was nothing short of awe-inspiring.
Aramis, sprawled lazily near William's left, was the oldest companion of them all. Though Valon's death had driven a wedge between him and Edmund, outwardly that tension had faded.
And Ajin… everyone knew he was the most loyal. He hated the Navy with every fiber of his being, yet when William ordered him to infiltrate, he went without complaint. No grumbling, no resistance, just a silent nod and the discipline to endure the disgust of living in that uniform. Steady in temperament and the most capable fighter among them, Ajin had earned William's trust more than anyone else. And the others accepted it without resentment.
After whispering a few words with William, Ajin finally looked to Edmund. "So, who exactly were you planning to chop into pieces?"
Still buzzing with excitement, Edmund quickly recounted what William had revealed—that he had eaten a Logia fruit—and his own fiery plan for revenge. To his surprise, Ajin's response was a shake of the head.
"Don't get ahead of yourself. One Logia Fruit isn't enough to make us untouchable."
Unlike the others, Ajin had spent time inside the Navy. William had placed him there not just to frame Redbeard, but to gather intelligence. He had learned things none of the others could.
From Nezumi, the rat of a man whose father had been a World Government official, Ajin had pieced together truths about the Grand Line, the Government, and the Navy's hidden strength—including the real record of Colonel Roy.
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