Boa Hancock (POV)
She did not leave.
Instead, Hancock closed the door quietly and moved to the window, positioning herself just out of sight. From there, she watched the man inside without announcing her presence.
Ren stood still for a moment, eyes fixed on the glass as if he could sense her lingering nearby. After a few breaths, he looked away and let out a quiet scoff.
"This woman is really something," he muttered. "Like hell I'm some idiot who thinks helping once means she'll fall in love and ask for marriage."
Hancock's brow lifted slightly. The words caught her off guard—not because they insulted her, but because they did not revolve around her beauty at all.
He is… self-aware, she thought. Uncomfortably so.
Ren shook his head, almost amused with himself, and walked toward the bed. He lay back, hands folded behind his head, staring up at the ceiling as if the answers might be written there.
"She's dangerous to be around," he murmured. "Way too beautiful for a single heart that still wants to survive."
Hancock remained still. Men usually boasted. Or trembled. Or planned how to get closer. This one was planning how to stay away.
After a pause, his tone shifted—quieter, more focused. "So… what next?"
He exhaled slowly. "Training is a must. With a Mythical Zoan, strength isn't optional. If I want to live, I have to become strong enough that the sea leaves me alone."
Hancock's gaze sharpened.
Mythical Zoan…
Ren continued, unaware of the weight of his words. "And since I'm already here, might as well stir some chaos while I'm at it."
Her eyes narrowed. Not at the arrogance—but at the certainty.
"Fish-Man Island," he said after a moment. "That's the first stop. I can train there. Jimbei would be the right kind of teacher."
Hancock stiffened slightly at the name.
"And while I'm there…" His voice hardened. "I'll hunt slave traders. With clones, I can cover ground fast. Find them all. End it properly."
Silence followed.
Hancock did not move from the window. The amusement faded slowly, replaced by something heavier. This was not the fantasy of a reckless fool. It was a plan formed from conviction.
He speaks of slavery… without hatred, she realized. Only intent.
A man who avoided her beauty.
A man who discarded leverage.
A man who planned to erase the very chains that had once bound her.
Dangerous—not for what he desired.
But for what he might become.
Hancock stepped back from the window at last, her expression unreadable.
Ren, she thought, testing the name in silence. You walk a path that will draw storms.
And for reasons she did not yet understand—
She found herself watching, not as an Empress… but as a witness.
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