Once Robin had presented her "pledge of allegiance," everything became much easier.
A matter that could win people's hearts should, of course, be entrusted to the most reliable person available. Besides, Miss Robin would surely be satisfied. Putting ability aside, Badel was easy on the eyes. Young girls tended to value appearance. Even if Robin didn't particularly care, surely it would at least leave her with a favorable impression of the crew.
"Badel, I'll leave Miss Robin in your care," Medica said as he uncorked a bottle of tequila and poured himself a drink. "Make sure she feels the warmth of the Tequila Pirates."
Louis stood there, stunned.
Medica gave him a warm smile. "When you handle something, I'm at ease."
Robin watched the scene unfold with quiet amusement. Especially Louis.
Go on. Force a smile. Accept the task to preserve your loyal image.
Using completely flawed reasoning, she once again perfectly predicted his reaction.
Unlike the original Straw Hat crew—where Robin had once misjudged their willingness to abandon her in danger—this time her logic was wrong, but the outcome was correct.
I really did this to myself, Louis cursed inwardly.
He forced a stiff smile. "Understood, Captain."
He had no choice. Acting unusually now would only arouse suspicion.
Louis knew something the others didn't. Years ago, the captain had survived an assassination attempt by a user of the Clone-Clone Fruit. The psychological scar left behind had been severe. Since then, Medica had grown extremely wary—and had even lost interest in women altogether.
The assassin had been killed in the end, but what if the captain ever suspected Louis himself had been replaced?
There would be no time to explain. A paranoid captain might simply label him a traitor on the spot.
Grinding his teeth, Louis nodded again. He hadn't expected his confident argument to fail at kicking the "Devil's Child" off the ship—only to saddle himself with her instead.
Driving Robin off was now nearly impossible.
Medica poured Robin a small cup of liquor and raised his bottle toward her.
"Today, we drink the oath of brotherhood. From now on, Nico Robin, you are one of us."
"Badel, from this day forward, you are the vice captain. Fulfill your duties properly! Miss Robin is now our honored guest. Make sure she is well attended! Hahaha! With her joining us, my long-standing plan can finally be realized!"
Robin downed the drink in one smooth motion.
Medica grinned in satisfaction and tilted the bottle back, chugging with reckless enthusiasm—turning tequila into something that looked suspiciously like vodka.
Using the excuse of organizing her belongings, Robin casually dismissed Louis.
He couldn't refuse. In truth, the vice captain was far less important than the navigator. In a pirate crew, the navigator was the soul of the ship.
And with the captain's orders hanging over him, as long as Robin's requests didn't violate crew rules, he had to comply.
"Damn it!" Louis slammed a hand on the tavern table later that evening.
His once dangerous but relatively stable life felt like it was slipping away.
As former boatswain of the Tequila Pirates, Louis had once managed work schedules, shifts, and discipline. There were always pirates eager to curry favor with him.
"Boatswain, boatswain! Calm down. What's got you this angry? Hey! Over there—bring us a round of rum!" One of the combat squad leaders patted Louis on the back with a grin.
The bartender glanced at the pirates without expression, set down several drinks, and continued polishing glasses.
"Boatswain? I'm vice captain now. Boatswain is that brat Hill," Louis muttered thickly over his rum. "Don't get the titles wrong in front of him. The kid's petty."
Vice captain?
The position had been vacant for years. And now the boatswain—after just three years—had been promoted?
The captain was clearly playing favorites.
Though resentment flickered in their eyes, their smiles grew even more eager.
"Vice Captain, that's good news! Why the long face?"
"Yeah, exactly!"
Louis took another gulp and snorted, dragging out his tone in exaggerated disdain.
"You wouldn't understand. We've taken in a biiig figure. Captain doesn't fully trust her yet, so I've been ordered to keep a close eye on her. Once she proves herself, maybe we can relax."
He scoffed.
"If you ask me, she's trouble. Should've tossed her overboard already. Just wait—I'll think of something eventually. Oh, right. Go buy a few more lifeboats. And more rum."
One of the pirates blinked. "Vice Captain… why so many?"
"For combat. Got a problem with that?"
The man didn't dare question further and hurried off to carry out the order.
At the counter, the tavern owner leaned toward the bartender and whispered, "Hey, new guy. Bring those gentlemen a few extra drinks. On the house. Show some tact."
As long as these pirates didn't rob him, he'd consider it a blessing.
The bartender nodded silently and approached the table.
The pirates were loudly offering to "teach someone a lesson" on Louis' behalf. Louis glanced at them with open contempt.
A bunch of loudmouths with neither strength nor brains.
He let out a short laugh through his nose.
"Go ahead. But don't say I didn't warn you. Bounty… over fifty million."
He deliberately withheld Robin's true bounty.
Too many ears. Thin walls.
If someone overheard and uncovered Nico Robin's real identity, he might die even faster from collateral damage.
Take this bartender, for example. He looked experienced and efficient—but who knew? He could very well be an informant planted by the Marines.
Better to change the subject before alcohol loosened his tongue.
"Hehe. Vice Captain seems quite relaxed."
Robin's voice slipped in like silk.
She had approached without a sound.
Louis froze.
Robin glanced briefly at the bartender, then ordered a fruit wine with a faint smile. Leaning closer, lowering her voice so only he could hear, she whispered:
"I know your secret."
"Shall we talk somewhere… more private?"