"You talked to a complete stranger about being from another world?" Nami's voice was incredulous as she paced their small room at the inn later that evening. "After all this time being careful?"
"I didn't actually tell him anything," Kai clarified, sitting cross-legged on the bed as he tinkered with a small device. "He made his own observations."
"Which you didn't deny," Nami pointed out. "Kai, we've been so careful. The bandana, hiding your tail, creating those fake backgrounds for when people ask questions…"
"I know." Kai set down the device—a compact shield generator he was refining for Nami's use. "But there was something about him, Nami. He's not just some village elder. His knowledge of navigation, his awareness—he's experienced things beyond the ordinary."
Nami sighed, sitting down beside him. "I'm just worried. The more people who know about you, the greater the risk. Not everyone will be as accepting as I was."
Kai nodded, remembering how gradually he'd revealed his true nature to Nami over the course of their first weeks together. Her initial skepticism had given way to curiosity, then acceptance. But Nami was exceptional.
"I'll be careful," he promised. "But I think Kanto might actually be a valuable contact. His knowledge of local waters could help us navigate more efficiently."
"Fine," Nami conceded. "But if he starts asking too many questions—"
"We'll move on," Kai finished for her. "The rendezvous with Luffy is still our priority."
As night fell over the village, Kai stood by the window, gazing out at the stars. His wrist communicator chimed softly, reminding him to check the message from the orphanage. He activated the device, and Red Queen's holographic form materialized above it.
"Message summary from Forgotten Island," she reported. "The orphanage is functioning well. Guardian Momo repelled another attempted raid—pirates seeking your technology. Children are safe. Director Mila sends thanks for the medical supplies. They've treated fifteen children from neighboring islands this month."
"Good," Kai nodded. "Send a response confirming we'll visit again in three weeks with more supplies."
"Affirmative," Red Queen acknowledged. "Also, your Wish Power reserves are currently at 87%. Daily Wish capacity is optimal."
"Thank you, Red Queen."
After the AI's hologram faded, Kai continued looking at the stars, contemplating how differently they were positioned compared to the skies of Earth or Deviluke. This world, with its vast oceans and scattered islands, its bizarre creatures and complex politics, had become his home over the past months.
Soon, they would meet Luffy, and the true adventure would begin. Everything until now had been preparation—learning this world's rules, building resources, and establishing their place within it. But first, there was the matter of the spy, and the old blind man who seemed to see more than most with functioning eyes.
The next morning, Kai returned to the teahouse alone. Nami had gone to investigate a rumor about a merchant selling ancient charts—potentially valuable for their treasure hunting or their eventual journey to the Grand Line.
Kanto sat in the same spot as the day before, as if he hadn't moved at all. The only difference was the fresh pot of tea steaming beside him.
"I thought you might return," the old man said as Kai approached, before he had even announced his presence. "The curious ones always do."
"Good morning, Kanto," Kai greeted, taking the same seat as yesterday. "Your prediction was correct. The path led me safely back to the inn."
"Of course it did," Kanto replied, pouring tea with practiced precision. "I've walked that path daily for twenty years since I lost my sight. I know every stone and root." He handed Kai a cup. "Your shadow has returned as well, though he's brought a friend today. Less subtle, this new one. Hired muscle, I'd wager."
Kai hadn't detected them yet, which spoke to either their skill or Kanto's exceptional awareness. "How can you tell?"
"The heavy breathing from behind the bait shop. The scent of steel and oil—a poorly maintained weapon. The way the birds fell silent when they positioned themselves." Kanto smiled. "The sea teaches you to notice such things, if you survive long enough."
Kai sipped his tea, finding it different from yesterday's—more fragrant, with hints of something similar to jasmine. "You said you were a sailor for sixty years. You must have seen much of the world."
"Most of the East Blue, parts of the North and South. Even ventured into the Grand Line twice, though the second trip cost me half my crew and my ship." Kanto's expression grew distant with memory. "Never made it to the New World, though. That was beyond my capabilities."
"What was the Grand Line like?" Kai asked, genuinely curious to hear a firsthand account.
"Magnificent and terrible," Kanto answered without hesitation. "Islands where the laws of nature seem rewritten. Weather that changes from blazing sun to freezing snow in moments. Creatures that could swallow our little village whole." He chuckled. "But that's not what you really want to ask me, is it?"
Kai considered his next words carefully. "Yesterday, you said I smell different from humans or any species you know. What did you mean by that?"
Kanto turned his face toward the sea breeze, inhaling deeply. "In my travels, I encountered many different peoples. The long-arm tribe, the long-leg tribe, fishmen, giants—each has their own particular scent that distinguishes them. Yours matches none I've encountered." He tilted his head. "There's a metallic quality to it, like heated copper, but also something… sweeter. And your body temperature runs several degrees hotter than a human's should."
The accuracy of the observation was impressive. Devilukeans did indeed have a higher base body temperature than humans, a trait related to their natural energy efficiency.
"I come from far to the North," Kai said, deciding to offer a partial truth. It wasn't technically a lie—Deviluke was "north" in the sense that it was literally above this planet in the vastness of space.
"Ah, the North," Kanto nodded. "Beyond even the North Blue, perhaps? There are legends of islands beyond the reach of Log Poses, accessible only to those with special knowledge."
"Something like that," Kai agreed. "My people are called Devilukeans."
The word hung in the air between them. It was the first time Kai had spoken his species' name aloud to anyone besides Nami since arriving in this world.
"Devilukean," Kanto repeated slowly, as if tasting the word. "Not in any taxonomy I've encountered. And I studied quite extensively in my youth." He sipped his tea thoughtfully. "Do all Devilukeans have the metal-colored hair I hear rustling beneath your bandana? And the appendage you keep carefully hidden within your clothing?"
Kai tensed slightly. "You're very observant for a blind man."
"I told you—other senses compensate. I can hear the slight metallic sound when your hair moves against the fabric. I can detect the subtle adjustment in your posture to accommodate something flexible constrained within your garments." Kanto's smile was gentle. "Don't worry, young man. Your secrets are safe with me. I have no love for those who would persecute others for being different."
From somewhere behind them came the sound of a twig snapping—one of the watchers had moved closer.
"Perhaps we should continue this conversation elsewhere," Kanto suggested, rising with surprising agility for his age. "The morning tide has exposed the tide pools north of the village. They're quite fascinating—home to creatures found nowhere else in the East Blue."
Understanding the suggestion, Kai stood as well. "I'd be interested to see them."
They walked together along the coastal path, Kanto moving with confidence despite his blindness, occasionally tapping a gnarled walking stick to verify the terrain. After they had traveled beyond the village boundaries, the old sailor spoke again.
"Your watchers didn't follow. Too conspicuous on the open path." He chuckled. "Now we can speak more freely."
The coastline had indeed revealed a series of shallow pools among the rocks, filled with colorful anemones and tiny darting fish. Kai assisted Kanto in navigating the uneven terrain, though the old man needed less help than might have been expected.
"So, Devilukean," Kanto said once they were seated on a large, flat rock overlooking the sea. "Tell me, what brings your kind to the East Blue? I've sailed these waters all my life and never encountered one of your people before."
"I'm… the only one here, as far as I know," Kai replied. "My arrival was accidental."
"Shipwrecked?"
"Something like that."
Kanto nodded, accepting the vague answer. "And the strange devices? The ones people whisper about? The 'metal guardian' at the orphanage? The 'invisible shields' that repel attacks? Are these common among your people?"
Kai hesitated, but something about the old sailor's genuine curiosity encouraged honesty. "Yes. Devilukeans are technologically advanced. What might seem like magic here is simply science where I come from."
"Fascinating," Kanto murmured. "In all my years exploring this world, I've encountered many marvels—Devil Fruits that grant impossible abilities, ancient weapons with unimaginable power, islands that defy logic—but never a visitor from beyond our world entirely."
Kai stiffened. "I didn't say—"
"You didn't need to," Kanto interrupted gently. "The pieces align too perfectly. Your unfamiliarity with local customs despite your obvious intelligence. Technology beyond anything in the Four Blues or even the Grand Line. A species name never recorded in any bestiary or explorer's journal." His unseeing eyes seemed to look directly at Kai. "You come from somewhere much further than the North Blue, don't you? Perhaps beyond the sky itself."
The astuteness of the old sailor's deduction was startling. Kai remained silent, neither confirming nor denying.
"Don't worry," Kanto continued. "I'm an old man with few years remaining. Your secret is safe with me." He turned his face toward the sea. "I always believed there must be more beyond the bounds of our world. The universe is too vast for us to be alone."
They sat in silence for a time, listening to the waves against the shore and the cry of seabirds overhead.
"May I ask you something personal?" Kanto finally said.
"You can ask," Kai replied cautiously.
"Do you miss your home? Your people?"
The question triggered a complex wave of emotion. Kai had avoided dwelling on such thoughts, focusing instead on survival and adaptation. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But I've found good people here. New connections."
"The orange-haired woman," Kanto nodded. "I could hear the affection in your voice when you mentioned her yesterday. Love finds us in the strangest places, doesn't it?"
Kai smiled despite himself. "It does."
"Well, Kai of the Devilukeans," Kanto said, rising to his feet. "I thank you for indulging an old man's curiosity. Perhaps before you leave our humble village, you might share more tales of your people and your journeys."
"I'd like that," Kai replied, helping the old man navigate back toward the path.
As they walked, neither noticed the figure crouched behind a distant dune, a spyglass extended toward them. The spy lowered the instrument with a satisfied smile, carefully writing in a small notebook before slipping away toward the village.