"Dreamcap?"
Inside the lavishly adorned cabin of the Celestial Dragon's ship, the world's absurdity played itself out in full.
Jalmack Saint, face hidden beneath his pristine glass bubble, reclined lazily upon silk cushions. Several naked slave women, trembling in the cold, pressed their bodies against him to keep him warm.
To any sane man, the sight would have been grotesque. To CP0, who stood in silence nearby, it was routine.
"Yes," CP0 answered smoothly. "This mushroom grows mycelium similar to tobacco. When dried and burned like a cigar, its smoke induces a blissful euphoria. The user feels light, free, almost as if soaring in a dream."
"It is harmless—non-toxic. At worst, a mild dependency if taken daily, but not lethal. I tested it on slaves. By their description, even a single puff fills the mind with visions of their happiest desires."
Jalmack Saint narrowed his eyes behind the glass dome. "This was gifted by the new king of Drum? Hmph. He isn't trying to cheat me with trifles because he couldn't pay heavenly tribute, is he?"
"He paid the full sum," CP0 replied calmly. "This was only presented as an additional gift. And the king suggested, if it pleases you, perhaps future tributes might be rendered in Dreamcaps instead."
Jalmack Saint's sneer melted into indulgence. "Oh? He paid… and still offered more? Hmph. Very well. In my great mercy, this Saint shall sample one."
At Jin's prior demonstration, CP0 prepared the fungus. He plucked slender threads of mycelium from the cap and slid them into a crystal pipe. With a practiced flick, he lit the ember, and the fragrant smoke coiled upwards.
He first handed the pipe to a trembling slave.
The woman inhaled, her body stiffening. Then her expression softened. A smile bloomed upon her lips. She began to laugh, twirling about the floor in a dance as though in rapture.
Jalmack Saint's eyes widened. "Truly…?"
"Quickly. Give it to me."
He lifted his glass helm, pressed the pipe to his lips, and drew deeply.
At once the smoke rushed through his throat, threading into his lungs, seeping into his veins. His mind was swept away. He was no longer in the cabin. He stood barefoot upon a lush meadow, sunlight cascading upon him, laughter echoing in the distance. He ran freely across fields, no burdens, no scorn, only joy—pure and intoxicating.
A Celestial Dragon had everything: wealth, power, beauty. But these were hollow trinkets. Born in decadence, their souls rotted from boredom. Jalmack, mocked mercilessly since his humiliation in the Goa Kingdom, had sunk into misery for years. He had not known happiness in so long.
Now, in a single puff, happiness returned. Not the fleeting lust of flesh, not the shallow thrill of cruelty—this was something deeper. A freedom of spirit.
He collapsed into the cushions like melted wax, laughter bubbling from his lips.
And when the dream ebbed, he clawed for more. "Is that all? Too little! Go! Tell that king—every last one of these Dreamcaps belongs to me!"
CP0 hesitated. "The king claims Dreamcaps grow only on Drum Island. The annual yield is but three hundred caps. This year, only one hundred remain. He prices each at one million Beli, intending to trade them with other kingdoms for supplies."
"You know the island's plight, Saint," CP0 continued carefully. "A frozen land, already struggling to pay tribute. His people suffer hardship."
Jalmack's laugh was cruel. "And what is that to me? Let them starve. Can they not fish? Worthless vermin."
"But," CP0 pressed, "the Revolutionary Army grows bold. If they toppled this new king… who would tend the Dreamcaps?"
Jalmack paused. His simple mind churned. Then he nodded. "Yes… yes, you are right. Tell him: surrender all Dreamcaps to me. In return, I shall recommend to the World Government that his nation be exempt from heavenly tribute. Dreamcaps will be registered as tribute of Mary Geoise instead. If he serves well, his reward shall be great."
CP0 bowed. "Wise as ever, Saint. But the one hundred million Berries he already paid this year—shall it be returned?"
"Return? Fool. If I return it, how shall I make report?" Jalmack scoffed. Then, with sudden inspiration, he waved his hand. "The ship carries a Devil Fruit, does it not? Give it to him in exchange. Let him eat it. It may give him strength enough not to be slaughtered by those filthy pirates."
"Truly, Saint Jalmack, you are the most magnanimous among Celestial Dragons," CP0 intoned with practiced reverence.
The Saint reclined again, pipe in hand, sinking into another blissful fog, his laughter echoing like a drunkard's hymn.
CP0 turned away, thoughts racing. He was no fool. He had seen enough of the Dreamcap to understand: this mushroom would ensnare every Celestial Dragon who tried it. If controlled wisely, it could become more valuable than gold, more precious than slaves.
If he aligned with this new king now, when the fungus became indispensable, he would hold the leash of power. Perhaps he could control the king, or seize the cultivation for himself. One day… he might even rise beyond his mask, ascend into the ranks of the "gods" he served.
An opportunity like this comes once in a lifetime.
Meanwhile, Jin nearly burst into laughter when CP0 returned with the terms. One hundred million Berries had bought him a Devil Fruit from a Celestial Dragon's treasury. An outrageous bargain.
The Dragons valued only pleasure. Happiness was their true currency. Gold, Berries, even Devil Fruits—they tossed them about like scraps to dogs.
Dreamcap was a fluke—an experiment of Little Ai, crossbred from hallucinogenic and toxic fungi. A failed test, born alongside poison caps and sleep spores. Jin had only thought to brand it as "Dreamcap," then gamble on the Dragons' hedonism.
It worked.
More than that—it worked perfectly.
He would build entire farms of Dreamcap, factories hidden on Hannabal and other islands. Let the Dragons gorge themselves on illusions. The more they indulged, the tighter his leash upon them would grow.
And so, CP0 left him a communication Den Den Mushi, a symbol of their "alliance."
In the halls of Mary Geoise, Jalmack Saint, high on his newfound delight, sang praises of Jin to the Gorosei.
Thus, the World Government formally recognized the renaming of Drum into Winterhan Kingdom, and Jin's succession as king. Notices spread to every allied nation, printed in the headlines of the World Economy News.
The Navy followed suit. Sengoku himself authorized every one of Jin's requests—including the most significant: a period of personal tutelage under Vice Admiral Garp.
In the span of weeks, Jin had risen from a pirate-killer of no renown to a crowned king, certified by the Celestial Dragons, legitimized by the World Government, and noticed by the Navy's highest echelons.
He was no longer a shadow figure.
He had stepped onto the great stage of the world.