"Distress signal?"
"A ship in trouble? If we can save them, we save them."
Reiju cautioned him. "It could be a pirate trick. Some crews dress up as castaways to win sympathy, board as 'rescues,' then act as moles. If your ship's carrying valuables, the whole pirate crew strikes."
Jin chuckled. "If they're pirates, even better."
The sea rippled in long, slow bands of light.
On a big vessel flying a Jolly Roger, Capone "Gang" Bege smoked a cigar and stared across the water. Hat and scarf trimmed sharp, pinstripe suit under a sweeping cape, eyes like gun barrels.
He loved challenges. He loved war.
As a boy he'd already taken up a gun and stolen what he wanted. He rose fast in the streets, became a small-time boss within a few years, and after two decades of blood and smoke, led his brothers to the pinnacle of the West Blue underworld.
One of the five great mafia families recognized him. People called him the Godfather.
Then, once the West Blue's underworld was unified, boredom set in. He had climbed to the top; no one dared challenge him. The days rusted his bones.
One day the paper carried a headline about a Yonko, Red-Haired Shanks. All across the West Blue, people argued and buzzed. Ambitious men hoisted Jolly Rogers, drew blades and rolled out cannons, and set for the open sea.
"Cast off, boys. To the Grand Line. To the New World."
Capone Bege declared he would sail.
On land, he was a crowned king of trash and fire. At sea, he was a novice. Danger came not only from rivals, but from Marines and weather that could swallow you whole.
After half a year probing the routes, he finally molded his Fire Tank Pirates to the ocean, carved out waters to patrol, and even obtained a Devil Fruit. That would be the spark.
Dominate the West Blue, then enter the Grand Line.
That was Bege's plan.
Vito stepped up behind him. "Godfather. I've boarded."
Bege exhaled a slow ring of smoke. "Word is, that ship's from the Grand Line. There's even a king from a World Government member kingdom aboard."
As an underworld don, his ears and nets spread across the West. Bege's eyes narrowed. "We grab him and pressure the World Government. Make me a Shichibukai."
…
"Thank you for saving me."
Vito, hauled up by Law, bowed and thanked them repeatedly while measuring the ship from the corner of his eye.
A three-masted carrack. High, rounded stern. A long beak-like bowsprit thrust forward.
Strange thing was…
"There are so few crew."
A deep-sea merchant with holds that full should have hired a mass of men for safety. As the Fire Tank Pirates' negotiator, Vito had shipped out first as a scout to learn this Grand Line vessel's details and manpower before they struck.
"Your Majesty, that's him," Maya said as she led Jin out.
Your Majesty?
Vito looked up.
The man wore a simple shirt and slacks with sandals. He was disarmingly casual and ridiculously handsome.
While Vito sized Jin up, Jin studied him in turn.
A tall man with a serpentine curled tongue that flicked from his grin. Hands oddly large for his frame. Hair slicked back like Crocodile's, glossy with pomade. A magenta suit with a yellow bow tie and a black cape thrown over the shoulders.
Standing there, he looked more like royalty than the king himself.
But in the West Blue, anyone with status took dress and manners seriously. Even the broke saved for a tailored suit to look refined, high-class, and expensive.
On this leg of the journey, Jin had learned firsthand the West Blue's taste for mafia chic.
Vito dipped in an elegant bow. "Merciful and kind king, thank you for the rescue."
Jin smiled faintly. He recognized the man at a glance. "Vito the Rifle, bounty twenty-four million. What brings you aboard my ship?"
Pirate.
Maya, Law, and Robin tensed in the same heartbeat, ready to move.
Vito's head snapped up, eyes widening. What? Was my acting that bad?
Jin fanned a stack of wanted posters, slipped one free, and held it up. "Did you think I don't read West Blue papers or bounty sheets?"
He knew Bege had been sniffing out intelligence on the Fire Tank Pirates ever since they entered these waters. Still, for now, Bege's name carried less weight than his title of Godfather.
Vito stared at his own poster and felt heat creep up his neck. Of all things, a king from the Grand Line following West Blue pirate notices?
No women, no cuisine, no leisure columns. He reads pirate bounties?
Exposed the instant he set foot aboard. What now?
His eyes rolled once, then he plastered on a smile. "Your Majesty is discerning. A unique eye. I admire your wisdom."
He was a negotiator for a reason. Quick on his feet, tongue like silk. Butter up the target first, then find a way out.
It didn't work on Jin.
"Speak plainly," Jin said. "Why did you come onto my ship?"
The smile vanished. Vito sensed this king was anything but gentle and let the snarl show. He lunged forward, lithe, twisting midair as he leveled a massive custom revolver.
His lips peeled back. The curled tongue slid out like a snake's. The grin turned vicious.
Huh?
Vito frowned. No one raised a hand. The guards were still.
A bead of sweat slipped down Reiju's temple. Kill him? A single kick and done?
Forget it. With Jin here, who would let Vito succeed?
Robin's eyes softened with pity. Poor choice. Of all the people to pick, he chose the strongest.
She almost laughed, but she was a professional and kept a straight face.
Maya muttered, "So he really is a pirate. Too many bad men on this sea. Trust no one too easily."
Jin smiled. "Smart move, aiming for the king. Except…"
"You shouldn't point a gun at me."
"I kill anyone who points a gun at me."
Vito's voice went cold. "I'm the one with a gun. Your life is in my hands."
"Are you so sure of your gun?" Jin asked.
Vito blinked. The smile faltered. "What do you mean?"
"Try squeezing the trigger," Jin said lightly. "You might be surprised."
He met Vito's eyes with calm confidence. "There are no bullets in your gun."
Vito's pupils shrank. No bullets? Impossible.
He wanted to glance at the cylinder, but he was wary it might be a trick. As a negotiator he read faces for a living, but the king's expression gave away nothing.
The guards, though, were too relaxed.
Doubt crept in despite him. He forced a cool tone. "You're that certain?"
"I'll wager a gold coin," Jin said, flipping one between his fingers. "You wager your life."
Vito felt it like a shock. A pressure burst from the young man in front of him and crashed into his chest. His shooting hand trembled.
Fear.
He had not felt that in a long time.
Jin lifted a hand and, under Vito's fixed stare, took the custom revolver right out of his grip.
Vito didn't fire. He didn't even resist.
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