The doctor and I returned to the casino once again. The guard at the entrance wasn't Issho this time either, confirming my suspicion—Martinez always came here on the days Fujitora had off.
Inside, the casino buzzed with life. Music, drunken laughter, the reek of alcohol and sweat—it all blended into a heady haze. We made our way to the roulette table. And there he was again.
Issho.
Two empty seats waited beside him. Had he saved them for us?
Martinez sat directly next to him, leaving me the seat at the end. I ordered drinks, keeping my movements steady, rehearsed. Then the games began.
Martinez, reckless as ever, bet heavy on black. Issho and I both chose red. The wheel spun, the ball clicked, and when it stopped—red. A win.
We played through the evening, losing some rounds but winning most. I mirrored Issho's bets as much as I dared, changing occasionally so I didn't seem like a shadow. By the end of the night, my stack of chips dwarfed theirs.
But I knew the truth. Issho had been losing on purpose. He worked here—if he drained the casino dry, suspicion would follow.
When we stood to leave, Martinez excused himself for the bathroom. That left me alone with the blind man. I decided to test the waters.
"Do you gamble often?" I asked casually. "Where do you even get the money?"
Issho tilted his head. "I gamble every time I get my salary. A habit I picked up from our mutual friend. As for the money—I'm a bouncer here. But I sense you already knew that."
A bead of cold sweat ran down my neck. I forced a laugh. "Ha, you caught me. I saw you standing outside the casino while running errands. I didn't want to seem like a stalker. But… what do you mean you sensed I knew?"
"Just like I told you before," Issho replied calmly, "after losing my eyesight, I trained my other senses. It's nothing special. Anyway, enough about me. Tell me, Reed—do you gamble often?"
"Not really," I said quickly. "I tried once back in my hometown, but I lost too much. Gave up. I just come here for fun… and to keep the doctor company. But—about what you said. Your senses. Ever since meeting you, I've felt this… urge to improve mine. I even started walking around with my eyes closed, doing basic tasks. Any advice?"
Issho's smile deepened. "Walking blind is a good foundation. But if you seek true growth, you must listen to the world itself. And more than that—you need combat. Only in battle do the senses sharpen into power." He paused, then added, "Tell you what. Every time you want my help, give me some of your winnings. A small price for training."
I didn't even hesitate. "Deal."
Martinez returned just then, breaking the moment. We said our goodbyes, but before leaving, I arranged to meet Issho the following week.
Back home, I asked the doctor where I might find books in Braille.
"Try the shop near the east market," he said with a shrug. "Tell them I sent you."
I thanked him and turned in for the night.
The next morning, I made breakfast, then picked up groceries—and the Braille book. I didn't open it yet. First, I went to my clearing in the forest. Eyes closed, I trained as usual, pushing myself to run, climb, and move by instinct alone. I tried to listen to the world. Whatever that meant.
Afterward, I cooked Martinez lunch, did chores, then studied the Braille alphabet. Reed—the real Reed—had once tried to learn it on Ohara before abandoning it for the Poneglyphs. That half-forgotten knowledge gave me a head start.
Evening came. Workout. Shower. Sleep.
And before I knew it, the week was gone.
I was ready to meet him again.
Ready to train under a man destined to be an admiral.