The air underground was cold and thick.
Leaving that suffocating crystal warehouse behind, Rain moved like a ghost. He slipped soundlessly through a heavy isolation door and reached the deepest part of the underground complex.
There, an office sat completely out of place.
No damp rock walls. No exposed pipes.
The floor was covered in expensive, thick carpet. Paintings from around the world hung on the walls. Behind a huge rosewood desk, there was even a delicate porcelain set from Mary Geoise.
This was clearly the core control room.
Rain didn't rummage like an ordinary thief.
He stood in the middle of the room and flicked a faint arc of electricity from his fingertip.
"Zzzt—"
The current crawled through the air, slipped into the desk's keyhole, and instantly destroyed the internal mechanical structure.
Click.
With a soft sound, a hidden compartment on the side of the desk popped open.
There was no gold or jewelry inside—only a gilt-edged letter sealed with wax, and a thick black ledger.
Rain picked up the ledger and flipped through a few pages at random.
Line after line recorded names, ages, places of origin, and a final "disposition."
[No. 4021, male, 24, robust build. Source: West Blue merchant-ship sailor. Disposition: Labor-grade crystal, shipped.]
[No. 4022, female, 16, above-average appearance. Source: Fren Island drifter. Disposition: Display-grade crystal, pending shipment.]
Every line was a living human life.
Rain closed the ledger, the chill in his eyes deepening. He picked up the gilt letter. The wax seal bore a unique emblem—a skull wrapped in diamonds.
He tore it open. A faint woody top-note perfume drifted out.
Rain scanned the elegant, overly ornate cursive.
"To my dear ally, Rear Admiral Nelson: Regarding the shipment urgently needed by Mary Geoise, I will personally arrive at G-17 on the 24th of this month aboard the Diamond Queen to carry out the 'carving.'"
Rain did the math in his head.
"Today is the 22nd—so… the day after tomorrow."
He read on.
"This customer is no ordinary one—His Excellency Saint Charlmaco. He has a refined taste for the art of 'despair.' Please be sure to select the most perfect raw materials from this batch of 'stones.'"
Rain's lips curled into a cold smile.
"Saint Charlmaco… whichever pig it is, the end of this business really does lead to Mary Geoise."
He continued, and the latter half of the letter made his eyebrow lift slightly.
"Additionally, a CP0 envoy of the World Government will be arriving with me. If this tribute satisfies the 'lords,' then the proposal to nominate me as one of the first Seven Warlords of the Sea should pass smoothly."
"This is our shared glory—and the foundation of our monopoly over this golden route."
Signed: The Crystal-Diamond Duke — Victor Hugo
"The Crystal-Diamond Duke…"
Seeing that signature, Rain's mind instantly flashed back to those lifelike crystal statues in the underground warehouse.
"So that's it."
Rain understood.
"I was still wondering who could have a Devil Fruit ability that turns living people into crystal in an instant. Looks like it's this Victor's work."
"With a title like 'Crystal-Diamond Duke,' it's probably a Paramecia related to crystallization… no wonder he can produce 'art' even Celestial Dragons would approve of."
With the culprit confirmed, Rain's gaze landed on the words "Seven Warlords of the Sea," and a hint of surprise flickered in his eyes.
"The Seven Warlords… has it already started?"
As a transmigrator, of course he knew the system.
After Roger ignited the Great Pirate Era and pirate numbers exploded, the Marines increasingly struggled alone. To counterbalance the swelling pirate powers, the World Government proposed this insane plan—using poison to fight poison.
"Victor Hugo…"
Rain searched his memory and was sure he'd never heard of him in canon.
"Not a name from the original story. So he probably got erased by later reshuffles. Either way…" Rain lightly tapped the paper; a faint spark of electricity flashed at his fingertips. "Now that you've run into me, you're not going to live to see the main story begin."
"But if he's being considered for the first batch of Warlords, his strength definitely isn't something to underestimate."
Rain understood what the title "Warlord" meant.
In canon, setting aside the outlier—Dracule Mihawk—most Warlords, whether Doflamingo, Hancock, or Jinbe, were powerhouses comparable to a Yonko's top commander.
They were apex predators of the sea.
"To be a candidate alongside those monsters…" Rather than fear, Rain's eyes lit with the excitement of a hunter spotting worthy prey. "This Crystal-Diamond Duke might make a fine whetstone."
Rain tucked the letter and ledger into his clothes.
"Arriving the day after tomorrow… good. That leaves time to prepare."
He cast one last look at the office soaked in the stench of sin. His body faded, turning into a thread of electricity that slipped away through the ventilation ducts, vanishing into the darkness without a sound.
…
The Velvet Suite.
Gion hadn't slept.
Still wearing her Justice coat, arms crossed, she stood by the floor-to-ceiling window.
"Zzzt—"
A soft sound came from the vent. Then blue-white light gathered in the center of the room, forming Rain's tall figure.
"Well?" Gion turned immediately and walked up quickly. "What's down there?"
Rain didn't answer.
He went to the coffee table, poured himself a glass of ice water, downed it in one go, then pulled the letter and the ledger from his clothes and set them in front of Gion.
"Read it yourself."
Gion eyed him suspiciously and picked up the black ledger.
After only a few pages, her face turned iron-blue. Her fingers whitened around the book, joints cracking from the force of her grip.
"So that's why there are no poor people on the streets…"
Her voice shook with pure fury. "They treat people like goods—turn them into that damned 'art'?!"
"NELSON—that bastard…" Gion's chest heaved. "How dare he?! He's a Marine rear admiral, and he's colluding with pirates!!"
"It's not just Nelson," Rain said, seated on the sofa. He pointed at the gilt letter. "Look at that. His partner."
Gion forced her rage down and picked up the letter.
But the moment she read what was written—
Her anger was swallowed by something even bigger.
Shock.
~~~
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