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Russell's fingers moved with practiced precision across the blank card, each stroke deliberate and purposeful. The orange-haired woman taking shape beneath his pen seemed to pulse with life, her features emerging from the void like a memory crystallizing into reality. He paused, studying the curve of her jawline, the defiant tilt of her chin. This wasn't just any drawing—this was creation itself.
"If I'm doing this," he muttered, adding another careful line, "might as well go all out."
The workshop around him faded as his mental energy coiled around the materials, reality bending to his will. The familiar sensation of displacement washed over him as he stepped into that otherworldly space where stories became truth.
[Please start compiling your story.]
The voice echoed through the void, expectant and eternal. Russell took a breath and began weaving the narrative threads that would bind his creation to existence.
[In the East Blue's Oykot Kingdom, tragedy struck when Nami was barely a year old. Pirates descended like vultures, their black flags blotting out the sun as they tore through the peaceful realm. Smoke rose from burning houses while screams echoed across cobblestone streets. In the chaos, a baby's cry pierced the air—Nami, orphaned in an instant, left to face a world suddenly painted in blood and ash.]
[But fate had other plans. Bell-mère, a battle-scarred Marine with gentle hands and fierce eyes, found two small girls huddled in the wreckage. Nami and Nojiko became her daughters that day, not through blood but through something stronger—choice.]
The mysterious space pulsed around Russell as he continued, each word carrying weight beyond mere description.
[Young Nami's fingers traced coastlines with an artist's passion, her mind already mapping seas she'd never seen. But poverty bit deep in their small household. Bell-mère's Marine pension barely covered food, let alone the expensive cartography books that called to Nami like sirens. So she learned to be quick, to be clever—slipping books from shelves when merchants weren't looking, devouring knowledge like a starving person devours bread.]
[Then came the day that changed everything. Arlong's shadow fell across Cocoyasi Village like a curse made manifest. The shark-man's teeth gleamed as he laid down his ultimatum: 100,000 berries for each adult, 50,000 for every child. Pay or die. Simple mathematics written in terror.]
Russell's jaw clenched as he wrote the next part, feeling the weight of the moment.
[Bell-mère stood in their modest home, counting and recounting the same worn bills. 100,000 berries. Enough for one adult life, but she had two daughters to protect. Her hands shook—not from fear, but from the terrible clarity of what she had to do. She would buy their lives with her own sacrifice.]
[But love, Russell realized, was never a solitary act. As Arlong's crew prepared to execute their grim sentence, the villagers emerged from their homes. Old fishermen emptied their nets of coins, shopkeepers offered their last reserves, children broke open ceramic pigs they'd been saving for years. Together, they scraped together another 100,000 berries—enough to save all three members of the family they'd come to cherish.]
[Arlong's cold eyes studied the desperate offering, then shifted to young Nami with predatory interest. "This child," he said, his voice like grinding stone, "has the gift of reading the sea's secrets. She will serve my crew as navigator, and in exchange..." His smile was a weapon. "She may purchase this pathetic village's freedom for 100 million berries."]
[Thus began Nami's double life—thief by necessity, navigator by talent, driven by a love so fierce it could move mountains. Every treasure she stole, every risk she took, every lie she told was a brick in the foundation of her village's salvation.]
Russell felt the familiar resistance that meant he'd pushed the narrative as far as it would go. The mysterious space had its limits, and he'd reached them. Time to return.
Reality snapped back into focus around him. The card floated before him, no longer blank but thrumming with potential energy. He drew it toward him with a thought, feeling its weight settle into his consciousness.
[Cat Burglar · Nami]Level: Black Iron Quality: Purple Category: Creature
Skills:[Basic Staff Techniques]: Nami's combat training runs deeper than most realize. Her staff work is fluid, economical—every strike calculated for maximum effect with minimum effort.
[Weather-Art]: (Not Activated)
Characteristics:[Navigator]: The sea speaks to Nami in ways others cannot comprehend. Wind patterns, cloud formations, the subtle shift of currents—all of these are as readable to her as words on a page.
Introduction: "I'm going to draw a map of the whole world!"
Bonds:
When appearing with [Luffy] and other series, activates [Straw Hat Pirates]
When appearing with [Zeus] series, activates [Abandon Darkness and Join Light]
Activated Bond: [Straw Hat Pirates] (3/10) Bond Effect: When all members of the Straw Hat Pirates are present, if one member is defeated, the remaining members will enter a state of Rage.
Note: Rage: Sanity becomes a price willingly paid for power beyond measure.
Russell's eyebrows rose. "Purple quality?" He'd expected blue at best, but the mysterious space had its own ways of measuring worth. Perhaps it was the weather affinity, or maybe something deeper in the character's fundamental nature.
The inactive [Weather-Art] skill nagged at him. He'd need to create supporting cards—her Clima-Tact, most likely. But that was a problem for later.
"Let's see what we've got," he murmured, focusing his will.
The air shimmered, and Nami materialized before him. Orange hair cascaded over her shoulders like liquid sunset, her brown eyes sharp with intelligence and determination. The workshop suddenly felt smaller, charged with her presence.
"Well," Russell said, trying to keep his voice steady, "that's... certainly impressive."
Nami's lips curved in a knowing smile. "Like what you see? That'll be 100,000 berries."
Before Russell could respond, Kiss-Shot appeared beside him with her usual dramatic flair. The vampire's golden eyes immediately locked onto Nami—or rather, onto specific aspects of her anatomy. What followed was perhaps the most dignified staring contest in the history of supernatural beings.
"Hmm," Kiss-Shot mused after a long moment, her pride clearly wounded. "I concede this round."
Russell cleared his throat. "Don't worry about it. These things have a way of... evening out as you advance."
"One hundred thousand for a look," Nami repeated, somehow managing to make it sound both business-like and teasing. "No exceptions."
"Even if I paid you," Russell replied, "what exactly would you do with the money?"
Kiss-Shot's arms slipped around his shoulders from behind, her breath warm against his ear. "Master," she whispered, "I don't require payment."
The temperature in the workshop seemed to spike several degrees.
"Different services," Nami said primly, "different rates."
The next morning found Russell staring at the ceiling of his workshop, his mind still processing the previous evening's... negotiations. The versatility of being a cardmaker continued to surprise him, though he made a mental note to be more careful about summoning multiple cards simultaneously in the future.
He sat up abruptly, slapping his cheeks with both hands. "Focus, Russell. You didn't become a cardmaker for... recreational purposes."
The meditation cushion called to him, and he answered. There would be time for distractions later. Right now, he had work to do.
(End of Chapter)