Following the global distribution of Ornn's bounty poster via News Coo, two distinct regions of the world erupted into considerable turmoil.
The first was the West Blue itself, where Ornn, Yamato, and Rhea were currently sailing.
When the criminal underworld and pirate crews realized that, for the first time in over a decade, a brand-new rookie had received an opening bounty exceeding 70,000,000 Berries—the highest since Nico Robin's initial 79,000,000 Berry tag—the sea practically boiled over.
Every cutthroat, rogue marine, and ambitious bounty hunter across the West Blue began sharpening their blades. They geared up with a single goal: track down this lucky bastard, take his head, and instantly secure global fame alongside a king's ransom.
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The second location was far across the Red Line—in the New World, atop the royal palace of Dressrosa.
"Nene~ Dover! Vergo had someone deliver crucial intelligence!"
On the sunlit rooftop of the palace, a slimy, middle-aged man covered in thick mucus squirmed beneath an umbrella, grinning nauseatingly toward a man reclining on a lounge chair. The man on the chair wore sharp red sunglasses and an extravagant pink feather cloak.
This was Torrebol—code-named "Trebol," one of the four top officers of the Donquixote Family. And the man in the cloak was none other than the Heavenly Demon, Donquixote Doflamingo.
"Oh?" Doflamingo leaned back, adjusting his glasses with a dark chuckle. "Vergo rarely uses private couriers to forward intel. Let me see it."
Lazily sitting up, Doflamingo snatched the letter from Trebol and broke the wax seal. As his eyes scanned the parchment, a wide, sinister grin spread across his jaw.
"Fuffuffuffu... Vergo really dropped a massive gift right into my lap."
"Ne ne what gift, Dover? Let me see!" Trebol sniffled, wiping his nose as he leaned closer, his brow furrowing as he read the poster. "Eh? Isn't this just some minor sea rat from the West Blue?"
"You're blind as usual, Trebol," Doflamingo sneered, his fingers tapping against his knee. "A minor pirate? This is a golden bargaining chip worth well over a billion Berries! Go get the Den Den Mushi."
Trebol handed over the gilded snail without fully understanding. Doflamingo picked up the receiver and dialed a private line.
Boru-boru-boru... Kacha!
"Doflamingo?! Make it quick or I'll break your neck!" an intensely irritated, booming voice roared from the receiver.
Doflamingo reclined back into his lounge chair, a mocking, arrogant smirk gracing his lips. "Fuffuffuffu... Such a temper, Jack. Is the former 'Drought' always this sensitive in the morning? Do you need me to host you in Dressrosa and find a few beauties to cool your head?"
The man on the line was none other than Jack—recently stripped of his Lead Performer rank as "Jack the Drought" following Yamato's escape from Wano.
"Doflamingo, my patience has limits!" a tic-tac-toe vein popped visibly on the Den Den Mushi's forehead.
Seeing Jack on the verge of snapping the connection, Doflamingo dropped the teasing tone. "Alright, keep your horns on. I'm calling because I have critical intelligence regarding your future standing within the Beast Pirates."
At the word "standing," Jack went quiet on the other end. A second later, his voice dropped, heavy and tense. "...You have news on Master Yamato?"
"I do," Doflamingo purred. "But as you know, running a global intelligence network isn't cheap. The daily overhead—"
"You bastard..." Jack took a deep, shuddering breath, suppressing his rage. "Fine! From now on, all transport commissions for your family's weapons trade entering Wano are waived! Is that enough?!"
"Plus another hundred million Berries," Doflamingo added smoothly, his tone non-negotiable.
"ONE HUNDRED MILLION?!" Jack bellowed, his heavy breathing rattling the line. After a tense silence, he spat through his teeth, "Fine! One hundred million it is! Speak!"
"My contacts just processed a fresh bounty poster," Doflamingo chuckled. "A newcomer from the West Blue. A Mythical Zoan user who commands molten magma."
KACHA!
The line went dead immediately as Jack hung up to mobilize his forces.
"Fuffuffuffu... Always so impatient."
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Five days later. An uncharted stretch of open water in the West Blue.
"Captain! Time for sparring!"
Rhea pushed open the heavy wooden door of the captain's cabin—which had been converted into a makeshift forge—speaking with eager excitement.
Since Rhea boarded the Gospel, Ornn had incorporated daily hand-to-hand combat practice into his routine alongside his mandatory six hours of daily blacksmithing.
Although two months had passed since he transmigrated into the World of One Piece, and his baseline physical conditioning had skyrocketed thanks to the health pool scaling of Heartsteel, Ornn was well aware that his raw combat technique lagged behind true martial artists.
To bridge that gap, he approached Rhea, proposing daily sparring sessions where he refrained from using his magma manipulation or Hybrid Form, relying purely on martial technique and physical reflexes.
Rhea had accepted without a second thought. She was a natural battle-maniac. After equipping the Lion King belt—which constantly repaired her fatigue and injuries—her energy levels were off the charts, and her knuckles practically twitched for a fight every morning.
They hit it off instantly.
Setting down his tools—a chisel, a miniature smithing hammer, and a Heartsteel ingot that vaguely outlined the internal frame of a miniature castle—Ornn stretched his stiff back and gave Rhea a firm nod, stepping out onto the open deck.
Forging the Moving Castle was proving to be the most complex project listed in the Creation Index. Because the internal spatial mechanics, gear ratios, and core channels had to be mapped out within a dense, compressed metallic core, the process felt less like heavy blacksmithing and more like high-precision micro-carving.
Even with the exact schematic imprinted directly into his mind, Ornn couldn't complete it in a single continuous session like he had with Heartsteel or the Lion King. He had to soften the ingot using controlled magma heat, then carefully etch and carve the internal gears using fine chisels. He estimated it would take at least a month or two of painstaking labor to complete.
The moment Ornn set foot on the deck, Rhea launched herself forward without giving him a second to prepare.
BOOM!
Stomping her boots against the wooden planks, she utilized the explosive burst speed of Soru. To Ornn's eyes, her form blurred into a shadow before a leather-wrapped fist materialized in his vision.
Having sparred with her for days, his reaction time matched her speed. Ornn ducked his head sideways, letting the punch graze his cheek while extending his hand to trap her wrist.
Clamping down on her forearm, he yanked her forward while driving his knee upward toward her midsection.
Yet Rhea's grappling instincts were razor-sharp. She slapped his rising knee aside with the heel of her left palm, immediately snapping her forehead upward in a brutal, close-quarters headbutt.
BANG!
After several fierce, lightning-fast exchanges, the day's sparring ended as usual—with Ornn leaning against the mainmast, nursing a bruised jaw and swollen eye.
Taking the Lion King belt handed over by Rhea, Ornn fastened it around his waist, letting the artifact's continuous regeneration heal his bruises. As his injuries mended, Ornn closed his eyes, mentally replaying the exact grappling angles and counter-leverages Rhea had used during the bout, working out the physics required to dismantle those moves.
To Ornn, this deliberate mental breakdown was standard practice.
Standing nearby, Rhea stared at him, her dark eyes wide with utter disbelief.
He's doing it again...
She had used a completely new counter-grapple combination during today's bout—one she had never shown him before—yet within minutes of watching it once, he was already dissecting it and mimicking the exact leverage mechanics in his head.
The Captain's brain... how is it even built?!
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