The week after Tesoro and Stella came to me for advice, I ended up accompanying them to a desolate island in the Grand Line.
"Sue, where are we?" Stella asked.
"A mining island," I said. "Or rather, it used to be. I heard the gold deposits were completely exhausted."
Put simply, this place had been a gold mine until a few years ago.
A wealthy tycoon owned it. He drove the workers day and night, dug the island hollow, refined the ore, and sold it for obscene profits.
Naturally, pirates, gangs, and petty thieves flocked here, lured by the word gold. But the owner had taken strict precautions. He stationed Marines and private security on the island, and anyone who tried to steal was punished harshly. His operation was protected like a fortress.
Since the mine had government authorization, it was treated like a public works project—so the Marines were willing to intervene.
But eventually the mine ran dry.
Once there was nothing left worth extracting, no one wanted to keep pouring money into the place. The island was abandoned—equipment, facilities, everything left behind like someone had dumped a whole industry and walked away.
Even so, it wasn't completely barren.
If you were very lucky and very persistent, you might still find a few grains—barely specks. But with no guarantee, and with the effort far outweighing the reward, even the promise of gold stopped attracting people.
Worse, the reckless digging had weakened the terrain. Cave-ins weren't rare.
These days, only the occasional eccentric tourist came to poke around for a "souvenir." Even drifters reportedly found the place unappealing.
"So… we're the 'eccentric tourists,' huh?" Stella said dryly.
"I originally wanted to see the wreckage of a dream after a gold rush," I admitted. "But I also figured… if there's still gold here, it might help Tesoro."
"Wait," Stella said, looking uneasy. "Are you saying we're going to dig for gold?"
She was trying her best to understand why we'd come all this way for a gamble that might not even yield a fingernail-sized nugget. And she wasn't dressed for labor—plain casual clothes, nothing that screamed mining.
"Relax," I said. "Not like that. We're going to use Tesoro's ability."
"My… ability?" Tesoro repeated.
"Yeah. I'm thinking you can reshape your gold and probe underground—like casting a seine net. Scoop everything in one sweep."
Tesoro's expression brightened with immediate understanding.
Working deep underground would make a fine mesh tricky, sure. But if he could move gold like liquid—as he'd shown last week—we could approximate it.
Gold flowing like water through the soil, acting like a filter. Any placer gold in its path would be caught and drawn in. Repeat the sweep, and you'd collect whatever was left within range.
It wouldn't be much. The mine was "exhausted," after all.
But it would still be far more efficient than digging by hand.
"So that's why you dragged us here at night," Tesoro said. "So I can mine with my powers."
"This method's too weird to do in front of people," I said. "I'll keep watch with Observation Haki, just in case."
"It's worth trying," Tesoro said, steadying himself. "Even if we find nothing, all we lose is time. Alright—let's do it."
He used the Gold-Gold Fruit's power to melt the ingot in his hand into a thick, viscous liquid, then let it seep into the ground.
Slowly, he walked, drawing out a Golden Seine Net beneath the surface—searching, gathering, skimming.
He stayed quiet, focused… but every now and then he'd mutter, "Oh," as if he'd snagged something small.
An hour passed.
"How's it going?" I asked.
"Not bad," Tesoro said. "If you cover enough ground, there's more left than you'd think. Still… trying to mine this with normal methods would be a financial disaster. No wonder they abandoned it."
"In that sense," I said, glancing at the rusted facilities and broken conveyors, "even the little bit you're pulling out feels like 'wreckage of a dream.' Just like the island itself."
"Hah," Tesoro said, amused. "Of course you'd put it like that—"
Then his expression shifted.
He froze as if something had snagged in his thoughts.
"What is it?" Stella asked, leaning forward.
Tesoro didn't answer at first. He stared into the distance, silent, as if listening to something only he could hear.
Then a cold sheen of sweat broke over him.
"…Hey, Sue," he said slowly. "This mine was supposed to be completely exhausted, right?"
"That's what I heard," I said. "Why?"
"It's just… there's a really dense concentration of gold. Way deeper than anything I've pulled up so far."
"Huh?!"
Tesoro tightened his grip—his attention narrowing, the Golden Seine Net straining downward as if he were dragging something stubborn through the earth.
Minutes crawled by. Or maybe it only felt that way.
Then he set his other hand on the "net" and yanked upward—like he was pulling up a giant daikon.
Instead of a vegetable, a massive golden lump burst from the ground.
The earth gave way with a heavy whoosh as the gleaming mass surfaced.
"Gold?!" Stella gasped.
Tesoro let out a stunned laugh. "Ha… ha… Whoa. We just dug up something insane. What do we even do with this?"
---
Over six hundred kilograms.
That was the total weight of the gold Tesoro unearthed—hauled up like the turnip in some children's fairy tale.
And that was after he'd already stripped away most of the impurities with his powers.
We really struck gold, didn't we…?
I couldn't wrap my head around it. How had that tycoon—who'd bled this island dry—failed to notice a vein like this?
"I don't know what kind of survey method he used," I said, "but I get it. This seam was tucked behind a ridiculously hard, massive rock layer. Ordinary mining equipment wouldn't have been able to reach it."
"So it's only because of Tesoro's ability," Stella murmured, still dazed. "But even so… this much is unbelievable."
"…Um," Stella said carefully, "can we really just take this? Shouldn't we report it to the owner?"
"I wouldn't," I said flatly. "That's just asking for trouble."
"I agree," Tesoro said. "It's not like I want to keep it all—well, okay, I do—but if we hand it over, we'll have to explain how we dug it up."
"And that means revealing your Gold-Gold Fruit," I said.
Yeah. No.
If this got out, it wouldn't just be messy. It would be catastrophic.
Still… even weight-wise, it barely fit on my ship.
Back when I was a bounty hunter, I'd upgraded the cargo hold so I could haul pirates' loot—and sometimes even the bounty targets themselves.
I just never imagined I'd be loading this much gold.
"So where do we take it?" I asked. "Tesoro, do you have a secure warehouse? A hidden storage place?"
"I've got a few," he said. Then he blinked. "Wait… Sue. Are you seriously planning to give all of this to us?"
"Huh?!" Stella and Tesoro both blurted out, staring at me.
But… I don't want it.
This was always meant to help Tesoro train, wasn't it? I make more than enough from writing royalties and manuscript fees. And I'm a drifter—I don't even have a proper place to stash something like this.
"No way," Tesoro said, shaking his head hard. "Even if I found it, I can't just take all of it for myself."
"And I wouldn't know what to do with it," I said. "I can take enough to cover travel expenses, sure, but you're the one who actually pulled it out. I didn't do anything."
"That's true, but…" He still looked uncomfortable. The amount was probably too overwhelming—he didn't even know its value in Beli, and neither did I.
If he refused and I ended up with more than my fair share, I'd feel guilty.
So.
"Alright," I said, like I was compromising. "Then you keep it for now. Like I said, I don't really have a use for it, and I don't have anywhere to store it. But…"
Tesoro hesitated. "But what?"
"I've been thinking I might need to repair or upgrade my ship soon. When that time comes, I'll come to you about the fees and a down payment. Until then, keep it safe. Better than me hoarding it and letting it rot, right?"
"…Ah," Tesoro said slowly. "If you put it that way…"
Yes. Good. He bought it.
Now the gold "belongs" to Tesoro.
What, you think I'm letting him hold it until I need ship money?
I did say that.
But I also said "soon," and even that came with a "maybe."
We never discussed when, exactly, I'd need repairs. Which means…
If I really wanted to…
A new ship—and the money that comes with it—could be ten years away.
Twenty.
Possibly.
See? Stella's already figured it out. She's giving me that look—like, This woman is already plotting.
It's kind of cute.
Speaking of which… thinking about this is making me want to write something dark and money-grubbing. A gambling story. Something filthy and fun.
Alright.
Let's head back before sunrise.
To be continued...