"Captain… are you sure about this?"
Wilson, usually a man of few words, finally broke his silence. From the corner of his sharp eyes, he had already spotted more than a dozen shadows tailing them along the dock. And more were coming—troublemakers, spies, opportunists, or simply pirates who wanted to probe their strength.
It wasn't hard to understand. Betting on oneself was one thing. But to stake a full hundred million Berries? Even Wilson thought Jin had gone mad.
A child flaunting gold while walking through the market—how could it not attract rogues?
Jin only grinned, his smile dazzling as ever. "It's fine. Three hundred and fifty billion, Wilson. If not now, when will we gamble?"
Wilson fell silent. "…"
"Do you really think they can pay that out?" he finally muttered.
"You were aiming for the reward.
They were aiming for your life."
Jin pointed toward Hannabal's crooked skyline. "It's worth it." His eyes gleamed. "Don't you think the Winterhan Kingdom's territory is far too small? If I can seize this island with a mere hundred million Berries… then it's a bargain."
He flicked his gaze toward the shadows lurking at the rear.
"Oi. Those rats are yours. Handle them."
"Anyone you capture will earn battle merit. Merit Coupons will be issued accordingly."
"The time has come to carve your names into history."
On deck, the men could barely restrain themselves. With a chorus of battle cries, they leapt down, blades, muskets, and axes in hand.
"Kill!"
"Cut them down!"
"Glory and fortune!"
Jin's new system of noble titles had ignited something deeper than mere greed—hope. For the first time, common men had the chance to climb the ladder, to carve their names into the kingdom's future. The results were already visible.
Faith would take longer to foster.
But for now, his reforms placed him a half-step ahead of the world. Half a step ahead was brilliance. A full step ahead invited madness.
Adapting to the time, adapting to the land—that was true wisdom.
Jin stood at the rail, watching the clash unfold on the docks.
"Too little training. Their discipline, their cohesion—they're nowhere near the level of a real army yet." His tone was calm, analytical. "Yes, in this world of pirates, a single monster can raze an island, a world-ending weapon in human form. But never underestimate teamwork."
"With technology, even ordinary soldiers can unleash terrifying force. Germa 66. The SSG of Vegapunk's Special Science Group."
"Emperors are rare. Armies last."
The moonlight dimmed.
A shadow slithered closer, silent as death. Suddenly, it leapt, claws flashing for Jin's throat at the ship's side.
Clang!
The strike was blocked. Wilson stood tall, his monstrous frame intercepting the blow. His weapon was a brutal, dark-red spiked club. His stance radiated menace, honed by Fishman Karate and the savagery of a brawler born to war.
In his predator's eyes reflected the attacker—a tattooed man, iron claws affixed to both arms.
The force of Wilson's block sent him flipping back through the air. Agile, the man landed on the deck, bounced up again, and lunged once more.
But Wilson's body moved like a fortress, his club intercepting every blow, his bulk a living wall. The tattooed man scowled.
"You must be Niedes. The Claw of the Gasparde Pirates. Current bounty—thirty-seven million Berries."
The calm voice came from behind Wilson.
"…Hm?" Niedes's brow furrowed.
Whummm!
Wilson swung his club in a wide arc, the air howling as the weapon descended.
Niedes sprang backward with uncanny speed—only for the planks beneath his feet to gape open like a splitting mouth.
"What—?"
A black void yawned beneath him, swallowing light itself. It looked endless, as though it could devour the world.
In desperation, Niedes stomped the air—bang!—using Geppo to wrench himself upward.
But in that instant—
BOOM!
Wilson's spiked club came crashing down upon his chest. The sheer force smashed him straight into the waiting abyss.
The hole closed like lips sealing shut.
A hiss filled the air, the sound of swelling pressure. A strange, thick scent flooded Niedes's senses. His head spun, his limbs turned leaden.
The Carrier's fungal cultivation chamber—empowered by the Mushroom-Mushroom Fruit—had borne fruit. Dozens of engineered strains, each with unique properties.
Among them, the Hypnosis Mushroom.
It could release a soporific gas that dulled the senses, plunging victims into sleep. The price? A lingering weakness after waking.
By the time Niedes's body struck the bottom, he was unconscious.
The battle on the docks ended swiftly. Those sent to test Jin's strength lay dead or captured. Survivors fled back into Hannabal's alleys, their confidence shaken.
The crew cleaned the field with chilling efficiency. Bodies and captives alike were thrown into the Carrier's furnace, feeding its engines with biomass.
Merits were tallied. Coupons distributed. Those who had earned enough were promoted in rank, their noble titles and responsibilities rising. Little Ai handled the records, removing the possibility of deceit.
Reward for merit. Punishment for failure.
Those who bled were tended by the medical corps.
Everything ran like clockwork.
"…Truly unlike any other crew." Wilson's thoughts were grim, impressed.
Night deepened. Hannabal still blazed with light. But the probing strike had sent ripples through the underworld. Everyone now knew—the man who had wagered one hundred million was no soft target.
Sleep would not come easily to the island tonight.
Inside the Carrier, Jin sat cross-legged.
Calm. Still. Preparing himself. On the eve of battle, his heart was as placid as the ocean's depths. He shut his eyes, emptied his thoughts, and let his breathing fall into rhythm.
Meditation.
A tool of warriors across cultures. Even pirates used it. Zoro. Luffy. Many others.
Jin imitated them.
Listening. Feeling.
The wind.
The sea.
The crash of the waves.
Slowly, he felt his consciousness expand. His body seemed to merge with the Carrier itself. His senses amplified, stretching outward, filling the ship.
Something surged—an invisible current of energy. It pulsed from the furnace, raced through the vessel, and into Jin's veins.
Thud-thud… thud-thud…
He heard it—his heartbeat. Like a drum. Like thunder. A reservoir of raw power, ready to erupt at his command.
Jin's eyes snapped open.
"What… is this?"
Then realization struck. He had overlooked the bond between himself and the Carrier. This ship was not merely a tool. It was part of him. Within it lay a hidden well of potential.
He tested it, trying to bend the energy.
And discovered—
That in this state, he could wield the powers of both the Munch-Munch Fruit and the Mushroom-Mushroom Fruit Fruit simultaneously.
Even more—he could draw upon the Carrier's energy, its soul crystals, to strengthen his body and accelerate his training.
"Haah… incredible."
The revelation thrilled him. His confidence for tomorrow's hunt soared.
…
At dawn, Hannabal was already roaring with life.
New contestants held up their log poses, staring at the highest peak of the island.
"Strange… why does it point to the far side of the mountain? Could it be broken?"
"The boss said the start is here…"
"Guhahaha! That's right. Every stream on this island converges into the river at the mountain's summit. That's the true starting point."
"…Wait. You mean we have to climb the mountain?"
"No. Have you crossed Reverse Mountain?"
"What—?!"
"It's the same principle. Every few years, a surge of water and wind creates a river current like Reverse Mountain itself."
"Interesting, eh?"
"The contestants are already waiting along different streams."
"…Oi, wait. How the hell are seven or eight ships supposed to squeeze into that river when the current erupts?!"
"Look—that's the grinning skull flag. That arrogant brat. Seems some fools plan to finish him before the climb even starts."
Inside the town, the boss lounged with his wife, cigar clamped between his teeth, eyes gleaming as he gazed toward the mountain.
"That boy hasn't the faintest idea what the Death Tournament really means."
His grin stretched wide.
"Kill him at the start."