A subtle sense of satisfaction rose in Robin's heart.
Everything was proceeding exactly as she expected.
She no longer bothered maintaining the façade of a shy sixteen-year-old. The youthful awkwardness faded, replaced by the calm, composed maturity she habitually used as armor.
Slowly, deliberately, she said:
"First matter. I need detailed information on every Marine base and every World Government office in the surrounding islands."
Louis blinked.
"…That kind of information exists? Who could possibly get their hands on it?"
Robin's lips curved faintly.
Patiently, she explained.
Only then did Louis understand.
When the newly appointed World Government governor of West Blue had first taken office, he had devised what he believed to be a brilliant policy.
Officially, it was to promote long-term stability.
Unofficially, it was to recover the bribes he had paid to secure his position.
He publicly announced the locations and personnel configurations of Marine bases throughout West Blue. Each village received a copy—for a monthly "information service fee."
Villages and towns were encouraged to report pirate activity to nearby Marine bases.
What happened?
Pirates who once left witnesses alive began eliminating them.
Still, the governor's goals were technically achieved.
Large amounts of Berries flowed into his pockets.
And the number of pirate attacks reported to him dropped dramatically.
He couldn't eliminate the problem.
So he eliminated the people reporting it.
He even proudly published the results in the newspapers.
Emboldened by his "success," he introduced another initiative.
Under the banner of helping the wronged and oppressed, he released the locations of various World Government offices in West Blue—again for a monthly fee.
Villagers who paid could supposedly seek justice.
Their response?
"We are already handling it. The World Government has never deceived you. Please trust the World Government."
Nothing was handled.
But the fees continued.
Eventually, oversight tightened. Villages still paid taxes, but the information was withdrawn. Now it could only be purchased on the black market—at elevated prices, with identity checks conducted by Marine intelligence officers.
The reason was simple.
The governor's policies had indeed been effective at generating revenue and reducing reported pirate incidents.
There was just one flaw.
The Revolutionary Army had also purchased the information.
They acquired the Marine base locations.
They acquired the World Government office positions.
And then—
They followed the guide like a strategy manual.
They avoided attacking the Marines directly, but numerous World Government offices across West Blue were systematically dismantled.
West Blue was never as prioritized as the Grand Line.
And with intelligence agencies focused on hunting Nico Robin, the question of how the Revolutionary Army pinpointed so many facilities became an "unsolved mystery" within the World Government.
Everyone knew the answer.
No one said it aloud.
Reluctant to lose his income stream, the governor ordered the public copies destroyed—but kept collecting the information tax.
Meanwhile, he instructed the Marines to verify buyers' identities and shifted distribution to the black market at inflated prices.
He was not foolish.
He understood the consequences perfectly.
He simply didn't care.
Louis frowned.
For someone evading pursuit, such intelligence was obviously valuable.
The problem wasn't availability. Robin was right—the information could be bought on the black market.
The problem was identity verification.
Marine intelligence conducted those checks personally.
He had no intention of exposing himself.
And there was a second issue.
Money.
" I don't have the funds," Louis said flatly.
His income aboard the ship wasn't low. He spent part of it on food and drink.
The rest?
Emergency reserves.
Spending his personal savings to help someone he found troublesome would be idiotic.
Robin calmly produced a small pouch.
"My savings. It should cost around 3 million Berries."
Louis opened it.
Three million five hundred thousand Berries.
"Fifty thousand extra," he noted—and immediately slipped the pouch into his coat.
Returning it had never been an option.
Robin smiled faintly at the motion.
"I don't expect you to work for free. Mutual benefit is fundamental. You can use the surplus to win over your allies. When I disembark, it will make your… transition of power more convenient."
She deliberately reminded him she would leave.
The reassurance was intentional—to discourage him from acting rashly.
Louis stared at her.
"How exactly did you convince yourself of that?" he muttered.
Then, louder:
"I'll say this again. I have never plotted against the captain. My loyalty to Captain Medica is—"
He hesitated.
"…unquestionable."
The word felt heavy.
He had prepared escape routes.
Extra lifeboats.
Additional rum as emergency water supply.
If disaster struck, he would run.
He had even arranged supplies for Medica as a final gesture—but preparing to flee and claiming unwavering loyalty didn't sit comfortably together.
His ears reddened slightly.
Robin noticed.
She had already gathered the information about the lifeboats and rum. Habitual information collection was second nature to her.
Rum could substitute for water.
Lifeboats required no explanation.
Food? The sea provided fish.
If the Tequila Pirates were truly rising in power and influence—if Captain Medica's name was resounding across West Blue—
Why prepare evacuation equipment?
Unless—
You lacked confidence.
"Yes, yes. Of course," Robin said lightly, brushing her hair back as she turned away. "That was always meant to be your position."
She spoke casually, almost indulgently.
If he needed to tell himself a comforting story about loyalty, she would allow it.
After all—
They were now partners.