To calm Dimon's "righteous outrage," Gloriosa and Tori Toma slipped out from behind the screen as well, kneeling to either side to massage his legs.
"This VIP service is for you alone, Shōgun-sama~ try not to be too happy," Shakky teased, dimples flashing.
Gloriosa's technique… needed work. She even asked, earnestly, "I learned massage just for you, Dimon—how is it?"
"You learned the wrong thing. Real oiran are trained from childhood—koto, dance, etiquette. Don't underestimate the trade."
As… a frequent patron—no, wrong line.
As the Shōgun, Dimon often invited top oiran to the palace; he knew the standards. Compared to the real thing, the "Nine-Serpents Flower Pavilion" was all charm, little craft.
Still, Tori Toma's touch—Wano's current Empress—was gentle and steady.
"Not bad, Lady Tori Toma. You pass."
She smiled softly. "When I first became a Warrior of Kuja, I was clumsy and useless, so I often massaged Lady Shakky when she was tired."
"And one more thing you may not know, Dimon," she added. "Only after becoming a Warrior of Kuja may a woman join the Kuja Pirates."
Gentle hands, gentle voice—no wonder she'd guarded Amazon Lily for decades while two predecessors abdicated.
As three "empresses" pampered him, Dimon brought up the day's headline.
"You saw the news? Roger was caught."
"So it did happen." Shakky blinked. "I even pinged Golden Lion to rescue 'me' at Enies Lobby."
"You contacted Shiki?" Dimon cocked a brow.
Shakky chuckled. "I couldn't reach Roger. A fake notice lured him, so I sent a distress to the man who can fly."
…Fair enough. Rocks remnants like Shiki had been fixtures at Shakky's old bar on Hachinosu. Of course she had his number. Probably everyone's—except Roger's.
Licking dogs don't get endgame.
Dimon's brow pinched—the deep-sea prison tugged at his senses.
Tori Toma paused. "Too much pressure?"
"No… it's fine." Dimon exhaled, then pivoted, "Your chat-parlor scam stays—for a tax. Seventy–thirty."
The citizens' money was, effectively, his money. A share was only fair.
"No problem!" Shakky beamed. "Thirty percent tax is acceptable."
Her smile froze when Dimon stared at her.
"You're thirty," he said mildly. "I'm seventy."
—
Impel Down, Level Six.
Wearing Columbus, Dimon sifted the prisoner menu—ahem, roster—for future… selections.
"Director," Hannyabal panted at the doorway, saluting, "Vice Admiral Garp requests to see Roger."
Late-night visitation?
"Fetch a bottle," Dimon said, closing the ledger. He took Hannyabal's wine and went to receive Garp at the gate.
In the lift, Garp eyed the bottle. "For Roger?"
"If you want a sip, Vice Admiral…?"
"Not in the mood. I doubt he is either."
"You never know."
They reached the deepest floor. Whale-oil lantern in hand, Dimon led the way. Voices stirred the moment they passed the cells.
"Columbus? Heard the 'Pirate King' brat rolled in yesterday!"
"Pirate King, my ass. I knew him when he was a greenhorn!"
"'King of Pirates'? These new kids have no shame!"
"Open up, Columbus! I'll test his crown myself!"
On another night, Columbus would've given them a blood lesson. Tonight, Dimon ignored the chorus and brought Garp to the quietest end of the hall.
Chains. Stone. Silence.
Roger glanced up, expecting Dimon—then saw the duo. "Columbus… Garp?"
"Your drink," Dimon said, lofting the bottle through the bars. "He's the one who asked for you. Talk."
So Columbus was his man. Roger bit the cork out with a grin, pinched the bottle between jaw and shoulder, and gulped.
"Haah—alive again."
He belched happily. "Visiting hours, Garp?"
Garp's face was a knot. "Soon as the meeting ended, I came. The Five Elders decided your sentence—public execution. In your hometown…"
"East Blue—Loguetown."
Roger didn't flinch. He laughed instead—low at first, then rolling.
"A public execution? Fitting end for a Pirate King."
"Thanks for telling me, Garp."
Garp drew breath. "That's only part of it."
"None of your crew were taken. Golden Lion pulled them out. So the execution is both a spectacle and a trap—like the fake trial for Shakky at Enies Lobby. She was never captured. They'll spread the word to draw your remnants in and crush them in one go."
Dimon hummed privately. Plausible—after all, this time Roger was captured, not self-surrendered.
Roger's shoulders shook with laughter. "They won't be crushed. They won't come."
Garp frowned, baffled. Dimon understood—the message was for him to pass.
"Rayleigh and Jabba won't abandon you," Garp said, troubled. "Enies Lobby wasn't the end. What did you find on Laugh Tale? Why did the Government turn to extermination?"
"Want to know?" Roger's grin went crooked. "You don't."
"More importantly—when?"
"Three months." Garp's eyes softened. "Spend your last days well, Roger."
"I won't die, Garp."
The torchlight flickered. Dimon watched the Pirate King's smile—a quiet blade hidden in a joke.
—To be continued…
◇ I'll be dropping one bonus chapters for every 10 reviews.
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 100 Power Stones.
◇ You can read the ahead chapter on P@treon if you're interested:
patreon.com/MugiwaraTL