"Lord Wayne, may I come in?"
"Please do."
Robin stepped inside to deliver the concert's figures. Her tailored secretary suit and calm tone fit the role perfectly.
"Boss, we priced each ticket at one hundred thousand Beli. Gate receipts came to roughly two billion. Merchandise and recording-shell sales added another three-and-a-half. After expenses, our net profit is about five billion Beli."
Wayne nodded. At his current level of fame the number was exactly what he had projected.
"Good. Distribute one billion among all executives and crew."
"At once."
From the day he founded Daybreak, Wayne had been generous with pay. Even when profits were slim and rival bosses pressed in, he still made sure everyone drew a salary. That policy was why the group had flourished.
On the Grand Line people said:
"You are turning pirate? No home, no steady meals shameful."
"Wait, you are joining Seven-Warlord Wayne? Oh, that is different. Can you put in a word for me?"
Other crews lived on plunder or contraband. Wayne earned most of his money through entertainment and "robbing the robbers." Staff received set wages, full benefits, even a slice of company stock with quarterly dividends better, many joked, than the Marine package. Discipline within Daybreak was therefore nothing like the usual lawless hordes.
When Robin left, Wayne lit a cigarette and stood. Time to visit the floating restaurant.
The flagship
The black-hulled dreadnought Apocalypse cut through East Blue. A hundred meters long and forty abeam, she was built from Adam wood at a cost of several dozen billion Beli. Smaller than Whitebeard's Moby Dick, but still infamous across the seas.
Baratie
"Look at that monster!"
"I have seen that ship somewhere before."
Inside the dining hall guests pressed to the windows. Zeff, the peg-legged chef with a braid of a mustache, lit a cigarette and exhaled.
"Relax. That is the Seven Warlord known as 'The Fool,' Wayne."
Gasps rippled through the patrons. Apocalypse anchored a good distance away to show peaceful intent, and Wayne touched down lightly on Moonwalk with masked Robin and Gloria beside him.
Zeff sized up the tall newcomer. "What brings a man like you to my place?"
Wayne tilted his head. "What else does one do in a restaurant? Eat." He raised a hand. "Ten full courses and a barrel of beer, please."
Without another word Zeff headed for the kitchen, giving Wayne a thoughtful glance on the way.
The dining hall erupted. Guests ringed Wayne in admiration, cooks and waiters peeking from the wings. A few daring noblewomen even fluttered their fans at him.
Wayne sighed. "Being famous has its drawbacks."
A timid voice reached him. "Sir Wayne?"
He turned to find a girl of eight or nine. Squatting to eye level he smiled. "What can I do for you, little one?"
"Could I have your autograph?" She offered a copy of The West Wing.
Wayne chuckled did children that young read his plays? Still, he signed with a flourish.
"Ador, come back here."
A gaunt woman hurried over, gently pulling the child to her side. Worn clothes patched at the elbows betrayed their poverty.
"I am sorry, Lord Wayne. I hope she did not bother you."
"Not at all, Madam."
Wayne heard the girl whisper, "Mama, they said his autograph is worth two hundred thousand. Now we can afford medicine." The mother hurried her away.
Robin touched his sleeve. "The food is here."
Over the meal Wayne learned that every Monday Baratie served free dishes to the destitute. The mother and daughter were here for that charity.
He alone finished eight portions Life Return made him an endless pit and then he got down to business. Scanning the room he spotted a blond teenager with rolled-up eyebrows and a cigarette leaning on the window.
"You there, Curly-Brows, come here a moment."
The youth stomped over, annoyed. "Don't call me Curly-Brows. Name's Sanji."
"Right, Curly-Brows. You are a cook here, yes? Fetch your head chef, Zeff."
"I said quit with the Curly fine, I'll get him." Sanji stalked off, nearly tripping on the way.
Robin watched, intrigued. "You seem to like that boy."
Wayne gazed at Sanji's retreating back and nodded. "There is always a handful of people who become the pivot of the world."
"You believe that boy is one of them?"
"Not only him." Wayne's eyes softened. "So is my little Robin."