"Who are you?"
Moria stared at the young man who had appeared from nowhere and caught his Shadow Lance with one bare hand. The technique had enough force behind it to give even an Emperor-level combatant serious trouble. This person had stopped it with the casual air of someone catching a thrown object at a family gathering.
That was not a comfortable realization.
"Me?" Amon released the dissipating shadow energy and dusted off his hand. "I'm just a jar merchant. And I think this situation has a straightforward resolution. Brook only wanted his shadow back. He's got it. No reason for this to continue."
Moria blinked. Then something clicked behind his eyes.
"A jar merchant." He said it slowly, working through it. "You're the one who turned Crocodile into a girl!"
"You know me?"
Amon hadn't expected that. He'd been operating on the assumption that news took time to reach a man who spent most of his existence drifting through permanent fog in a stolen ship. Apparently he'd underestimated Thriller Bark's intelligence network.
"Of course I know you. You're famous out there." Moria let out a laugh that started somewhere deep and climbed quickly. "When Crocodile came back to the Warlord meeting looking like that, you should have seen the room. It took us a while to even piece together what had happened." He was laughing freely now, the confrontation apparently forgotten. "Crocodile, of all people. That arrogant, insufferable man. A girl!"
Moria wiped his eye. The mental image was clearly doing significant work for him.
"So," he said, pulling himself together with visible effort, "can I buy one? From you, right now? Whatever Crocodile got out of those things, I want to see what I pull."
Amon hadn't predicted this either. Every sale up to now had involved at least some degree of persuasion on his part. Moria had simply walked up and asked. The reputation built on one gender-swapped Warlord was apparently doing considerable marketing work on its own.
"Fine. But you're not paying what Brook paid. You're a big name. Ten million Berries."
Moria waved a hand. "Done. For what those things apparently produce, that's practically free." He turned and raised his voice. "Someone bring me the money." Then he remembered that Brook had rendered his entire crew horizontal, and turned to his shadow instead. "Doppelman. Go to Perona's quarters and bring back a chest."
The shadow departed. A few minutes later it returned, and with it came someone who had apparently decided to see what the commotion was about.
She was around thirteen, with pink twin-tails and a small crown sitting askew on her head, carrying a deep red umbrella that she held like a scepter. Her dress was elaborate and gothic, her eye makeup was precise and dramatic, and her overall presentation was that of someone who had decided very early in life exactly what her aesthetic was going to be and had committed to it completely.
Amon felt something warm and immediately fond settle in his chest.
Perona.
She swept toward Moria with a practiced little bow. "Moria-sama. Word reached me that there's an interesting jar merchant visiting. The one who turned Crocodile into a girl. Is that him?"
She turned to look at Amon, assessing.
Then she saw Lily.
Every other thought appeared to vacate the premises simultaneously.
"A living doll," Perona breathed. Her eyes had gone enormous. "It moves on its own."
She crossed toward Lily.
Lily took one look at the approaching girl with the huge eyes and the outstretched hands and bolted directly behind Amon.
"Perona." Moria's voice carried a warning note. "These are guests. Behave."
Perona straightened up reluctantly. The stars in her eyes didn't entirely disappear. "Guests?" She looked at Amon with recalibrated interest. "Are you really Moria-sama's guest?"
"I am. And I'm also here to sell him a jar." Amon glanced at Lily, who was pressed firmly against the back of his legs, then back at Perona. "Which leaves me one jar short of my goal. I was wondering who my third customer might be."
He'd known from the moment she walked in.
"Hmm" Perona tilted her head. "What comes out of these jars?"
"All sorts of things. Things that suit the person who opens them, usually."
He kept it simple. With Perona, he suspected he wouldn't need to work very hard. The hook was already in. He could see it.
"In the meantime," Perona announced, "while you sort out your jar business with Moria-sama, I'm going to touch the living doll." She pointed at Lily, decisive.
"...Sure," Amon said.
Lily looked up at him with an expression of mild betrayal.
But after a few minutes of cautious mutual examination, Lily seemed to determine that Perona's enthusiasm, while intense, was not actually threatening. The shaking subsided. Perona, for her part, was handling the situation with a reverence she generally reserved for her most prized possessions.
Amon turned back to Moria and gestured at the jar collection.
"Pick whichever one calls to you."