Bullett fell into deep thought.
He had been trapped in this sunless prison for far too long, and each day was a torment.
Although he claimed he could escape on his own, he knew in his heart that the prison's defense system was far more stringent than he had imagined.
Magellan's Devil Fruit ability was particularly daunting—unpredictable and impossible to guard against entirely.
After all, he couldn't just stop breathing forever!
"Brat, do you think a few words are enough to persuade me?" Bullett sneered coldly. "Even if I can't leave this place for now, it's not your place to tell me what to do. Want me to serve under you? prove yourself worthy of my service!"
With that, Bullett lost all desire to continue the conversation.
He lowered his head, his gaze turning cold and focused once more, as if Ron and the two women no longer existed to him.
The chains on his body clanked noisily with his movements as he began using the heavy iron links to engage in an intense physical training regimen—pull-ups, push-ups, sit-ups, even using the weight of the chains to increase the intensity.
Prove his worth?
Wasn't that as easy as lifting a hand?
Watching Bullett's movements, a faint smile flickered in Ron's eyes.
He turned to reassure Nami and Robin, signaling that they need not worry.
Then, his gaze returned to Bullett, his tone calm and carrying a hint of scrutiny.
"If you keep this up, you'll die long before you ever get the chance to wring Magellan's neck."
Bullett's movements paused slightly but quickly resumed their previous pace, as if he hadn't heard Ron's words.
Yet Ron did not stop.
He continued, "Your body has long been deprived of proper nutrition. Forcing yourself to train like this will only overload your muscles, leading to muscle breakdown, joint damage, and even potential heart failure. You think you're getting stronger, but in reality, you're draining your own life away."
Bullett's movements finally came to a halt.
He lifted his head, his eyes filled with a mix of doubt and wariness.
Ron's words sounded like alarmist nonsense, yet he couldn't completely ignore them.
After all, he had been in this prison for decades, and no one knew the state of his own body better than he did.
Lately, his muscles had indeed been occasionally sore, and sometimes he would feel inexplicably weak.
Could these symptoms truly be due to overtraining, as Ron had said?
Seeing Bullett stop his movements, Ron continued, "Do your muscles occasionally feel sore, especially after training?"
"Sometimes even feel weak?"
"Even short of breath?"
"These are all warning signals your body is sending you."
Bullett froze.
Every word Ron spoke was like a sharp knife, striking right at his sore spots.
He had to admit he had experienced all these symptoms—he had just always assumed they were normal reactions after training and never considered they might be his body crying out for help.
"H-How... how do you know?" Bullett's voice carried a hint of hesitation, even a trace of fear he himself hadn't noticed.
Instead of answering directly, Ron pulled out an oil-paper package from somewhere and slowly unwrapped it.
Instantly, A rich aroma filled the air—it was a golden-brown, crispy roasted chicken leg, with a fragrant, charred skin and tender, juicy meat inside!
In front of Bullett, Ron took a big bite, chewing with evident relish.
His movements were leisurely, as if he were savoring the most delicious food in the world.
"..."
Bullett's throat moved involuntarily.
He hadn't seen meat in decades, let alone such an enticing roasted chicken leg.
His eyes were fixed intently on the chicken leg in Ron's hand, as if the entire world had narrowed down to that golden piece.
"A bit too salty, tsk tsk tsk... not that good," Ron said with a hint of disdain, but still finished it quickly.
The two women stared in stunned silence, completely baffled by what Ron was doing.
Weren't they supposed to prove whether he was qualified?
Why was he suddenly eating a chicken leg?
And they knew where Ron's chicken leg had come from—the castle ring they had just visited contained not just chicken legs, but all sorts of wild game, fine wine, cigarettes, and more, in countless quantities!
Beside them, Bullett swallowed hard with difficulty, gritted his teeth, and used the pain to forcibly suppress the craving in his heart.
He said coldly, "Its just a chicken leg. It's not like I've never had one before, hmph! Who cares."
Ron smiled but didn't say anything more.
With a casual wave of his hand, he conjured a grill out of thin air, laden with all kinds of ingredients—beef skewers, lamb skewers, chicken wings, lamb kidneys...
And even a few bottles of ice-cold beer!!!
He skillfully lit the charcoal and began grilling.
Soon, the rich aroma of roasted meat filled the entire cell.
Bullett's eyes widened in disbelief, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.
He stared fixedly at the food on the grill, his throat moving incessantly as if he were about to pounce at any moment.
But he still held back, struggling to maintain his... pride.
As Ron grilled the skewers, he opened a bottle of beer, took a swig, and sighed contentedly.
"Ah, so refreshing! Grilled meat with beer is simply the best thing in the world."
"Would you like some?"
"N-No... we're fine..." The two women awkwardly waved their hands and shook their heads, politely declining.
They really weren't in the mood to eat right now!
Bullett finally couldn't take it anymore.
His pride completely crumbled in the face of such delicious food.
Then he abruptly stood up, the chains rattling with a hint of urgency.
"Enough! I accept your terms! What's three years? I've endured decades in prison—why fear three more!"
Upon hearing this, Ron's lips curled slightly into a satisfied smile.
"Hahaha, so am I qualified now?"
"Yes, yes, yes! you are!" Bullett completely surrendered, feeling he would starve to death if he didn't compromise.
Before, when there was no food, he hadn't felt hungry, but somehow, watching Ron eat meat and drink in front of him make him feels really hungry!
"That's good."
Then, a green leaf appeared in Ron's hand, and amid a green glow, it formed an ancient contract parchment.
Ron wrote down the terms of their agreement and handed it to Bullett.
"This is the power of the contract-contract fruit," Ron explained. "Once signed, anyone who breaks it will pay with their life. Even you cannot escape this power's constraints."
Bullett looked at the scroll, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.
Ron wasn't in a hurry, nor did he rush, waiting patiently.
This contract power had been tested before—Ron had others try to break it forcibly with Haki, but they failed.
Simply put, they couldn't locate where the contract power resided.
Although Haki can counter Devil Fruit abilities, some bizarre powers are hard to suppress, and contract power is one of them.