"…So you really did… make me?"
"Yeah. Well… yeah."
…What.
That came at me from an angle I never would've expected. So I was made for reasons that had nothing to do with love?
Shiki the Golden Lion is the kind of pirate who feels… undeniably villainous. Not the "Red-Hair" or "Whitebeard" type—the sort who prizes honor and bonds. He's the kind of pirate people picture when they say the word. A pirate's pirate.
That was the reputation I'd heard on the island, too.
So I'd had the thought, just for a moment, that maybe I was an "unwanted child." Conceived because my mother couldn't refuse him, or couldn't fight him off, or something along those lines. I'd braced myself for that possibility.
But this?
My mother was the one so wildly unhinged she managed to make even the boss recoil, and her motive was basically: "Strong father, please!" Who would ever guess that?
From the initial idea to the follow-through, everything about it was frighteningly psychotic, bordering on mad science… and that woman was my biological mother.
And then there was the other thing—slipped in so casually it almost didn't register. This had to be what Shiki meant when he warned me I might be shocked.
Human modification? A Superhuman Mother Body?
Wait—so I was… what. Altered from the fetal stage? My genes and everything?
I wasn't cut open and rebuilt, so maybe "cyborg" wouldn't be the right word, but… I was still a modified human. Designer baby? Coordinator?
No—yeah. That really did hit.
I was a modified human.
Which meant… the physical ability I thought I'd earned through sheer, desperate training—was that actually the result of those enhancement measures?
"No… I doubt that."
The question slipped out of me like a whisper, and to my surprise, Shiki shot it down immediately.
Huh? Why? My body was tinkered with from the womb, wasn't it?
"…This ties into the rest of what I was saying. It's true that your… or rather, Sou's modifications—ah, Dr. Indigo. Take it from here."
"Ah, yes. Understood."
For some reason, Shiki handed the explanation off to Dr. Indigo.
"From here on, the details get a bit technical, so I'll explain. I've been introduced already, but… I'm Dr. Indigo. While your mother was still alive, I worked with her on research."
He spoke politely—maybe because I was Shiki's daughter. Either way, he laid it out with careful structure.
After she became pregnant with me, Sou proceeded as planned. She continued altering her own body through various methods, and through that altered body, she manipulated my development in the womb.
The results of each examination were consistently excellent. According to him, I was growing—steadily, unmistakably—into a "Superhuman" inside my mother's stomach.
If everything had continued as intended, she would have delivered me after the full term, and I would have been "complete."
But around the eighth month, an unforeseen problem arose.
Sou had been pushing her body—endlessly—through repeated medication and surgical procedures. The strain and interference seemed to weaken her natural immune functions, and she contracted an illness separate from the incurable disease she already carried.
It wasn't contagious, but it was the kind of illness that, if a pregnant woman caught it, would hit the fetus directly.
Sou rushed to treat it, trying to drive it out as fast as possible, but her body—already depleted from the modifications and procedures—couldn't repel it easily. By the time she finally recovered completely…
it was too late.
The effects had already reached me in the womb. The child that had been developing smoothly as a "Superhuman" lost all trace of that trajectory.
My vitality dropped to the level of an ordinary fetus—maybe even weaker.
And with less than two months left, there wasn't enough time to recover. Not even close.
Dr. Indigo got that far before Shiki lifted a hand, cutting him off and taking the explanation back.
Dr. Indigo looked like he still wanted to say something—more like he wanted to say something to Shiki specifically—but he swallowed it and stepped back.
…What was that?
"So, bottom line," Shiki said, "the modification process for you failed. That's why your latent potential—aside from whatever you inherited from me at the start—should've been wiped clean. Sou said… if it had succeeded, she was expecting something with Linlin's level—Big Mom's level—of physical ability, or at least latent potential. That kind of monster."
"What kind of ridiculous modification were you even trying to pull off…" I muttered. "I mean, I don't actually know what 'Big Mom level' is in real terms, so I can't really say."
She was one of the Four Emperors. I knew she was terrifyingly strong, and that was enough.
Her bounty was 4,388,000,000 Berries—the highest ever for a female pirate. You don't get a number like that as a joke.
Also—calling your own kid a monster is… a choice.
"Linlin… I heard once," Shiki went on, "that when she was five, she was already about the size of a Giant child. I heard it from her."
"…Big Mom is a Giant?" I blinked. "I didn't know that."
"No. She's human."
Human, he says.
"And when she was five, apparently she killed a wild bear with one punch."
"..."
"And when she was five, she threw a tantrum and destroyed a Giant village."
"So I was almost that kind of monster?"
I didn't know if his stories were true. I hoped—desperately—they were exaggerated.
If those were facts, then Sou had been trying to create something like a natural-born destroyer. An actual walking catastrophe.
Which, apparently, would've been me.
"Honestly, I don't entirely believe Sou's estimate," Shiki admitted. "I know what Linlin really is, and even recognizing Sou's talent, I don't think she could've manufactured that. I figure Sou either underestimated Linlin, or didn't fully understand her. Still… even if that's the case, if Sou was confident enough to say it, then if it had succeeded, something abnormal would've been born. A genuine freak."
"But it failed."
"Yeah. That's what I was told. Sou left my ship after that. She said she didn't even know if she could safely give birth anymore, but if the child was born… she'd entrust her to her younger sister. And that sister's name was… 'Kuu.'"
"…My mother," I said quietly. "If your story is true… then my foster mother."
And suddenly, something old clicked into place.
A long time ago… I'm pretty sure I even told Rayleigh and Shakky about it. I'd snuck into Father's study, looked through the photo albums without permission, and he'd gotten furious with me.
There was a picture of Mother in there. When I compared the date on the photo with my birthday… she should've been near term, but her stomach hadn't looked big at all.
When I asked, I was told, "She just happens to be the type whose belly doesn't show much." And I'd believed it. No questions, no doubt.
But maybe that… wasn't what it had meant.
After that, Father had scolded me relentlessly. And even then, I hadn't understood what he was truly angry about. Normally, he wouldn't get mad even if I quietly walked into his room without knocking.
But if the real reason was that I wasn't their biological child—and he didn't want me seeing proof of it—then it made sense. He didn't want the album in my hands. Not because I'd entered without permission.
Because I might've found out.
While those thoughts churned in me, Shiki continued.
"So we split there, and after that, I didn't know you'd been born safely, let alone grown up. When you hole up somewhere like this, you lose touch with the world. But now that I know you were born—and survived…"
He looked straight at me.
"Like I said earlier… you're my biological daughter, and Sou was a loyal subordinate of mine. You're her legacy. So it's not strange to think you should be brought into the place you were meant to be—into the Golden Lion Pirates."
"From your perspective—blood and position included—that makes sense," I said. "…But I refuse."
"Hoh," he murmured. "So you're unhappy with my proposal?"
"It's not that I'm unhappy with you." My voice stayed calm. "I'm satisfied with my life as it is. Maybe I was born and raised somewhere far off from the path I 'should' have walked, but… I don't see that as something wrong. I don't see it as something that needs fixing."
If Sou—my biological mother—had given birth to me the way she planned, I might've been raised in the Golden Lion Pirates. I might've become Shiki's subordinate, like her, and followed him—two generations bound to him.
But that didn't happen.
And I grew up without any connection to the Golden Lion Pirates at all. I already had a life. I was already living it.
I didn't think, "This isn't how it was supposed to be." And even if it had been, I had no intention of "correcting" it now.
I was content—with Rayleigh and Shakky, with Eddie and Morgans, with Hancock, Tesoro, Stella… with the people I cared about, and the days I'd built.
Sure, there had been things I never wanted. Becoming a bounty target. Getting dragged into ugliness. Being forced into situations that made my skin crawl.
But even those were mine.
All of it was my life, and I could say that with my head held high.
So when someone told me, now, "This is where you truly belong," I couldn't accept it. Not in my bones.
I explained all of that carefully, with as much clarity as I could manage.
But it was the same as before.
Shiki didn't look satisfied. He didn't look convinced.
"That romantic streak of yours… you didn't get that from your mother," he said, almost amused. "Having your own opinions, having no doubt about your life—fine. But do you really think I'm the kind of man who'll say, 'I see, understood,' and back down just because you told me to?"
"Honestly? No," I admitted. "But I do want you to back down."
"Jihahahaha… asking for the impossible." His grin widened. "Even setting blood and position aside—after our little spar and everything that followed, you understand the value of the person standing in front of me, don't you? As a pirate, I can't choose to let that go. I'd rather you nod while I'm still willing to sit at the table calmly."
The atmosphere had been relatively soft up until then. Old stories. Explanations. A strange kind of nostalgia.
But now I could feel it sharpening—turning dangerous.
And, honestly, I'd expected this.
As long as I refused, and as long as he refused to give up on me, it was always going to end here.
"It's not a bad offer," Shiki said. "Like I told you at the start—I can give you everything you want, everything you need. Money, strength, knowledge… I can bring you up to a stage not one step higher, but five, six steps higher. That's what I'm saying."
And I still wanted—if at all possible—to settle this without it getting ugly—
"Besides, you don't even know how to use what you already have," he continued. "They call you the 'Pirate Literary Master,' right? I can teach you from scratch how to make full use of the fame and standing you've built as a writer. It may not have occurred to you, but if you really wanted, you wouldn't have to keep writing those little novels anymore. If you put your mind to it…"
"Oy."
The voice that came out of me was so low it startled even me.
Shiki blinked, his irritation rising at the interruption.
"The next words you say," I told him, "you'd better choose them carefully."
"…Hah?"
But that part—this part—I couldn't let slide.
"Sorry, Golden Lion Shiki. I don't care if you're my biological parent or some legendary Great Pirate. I don't want you putting your hands on that part of my life. We're talking about whether I join the Golden Lion Pirates or not. We are not talking about my writing. Don't touch it."
"What's gotten into you?" he said, sounding genuinely taken aback. "You're getting bold. And that's exactly what I'm saying—I can make your life better if you come with me. I can show you how to use what you've built. You won't have to keep wasting time writing those little books. I'll give you money, fame, everything—"
"Do you really think this Benelldi Toto Sue writes books just to be showered in money and praise, you bastard—?!"
I shot to my feet and shouted, and for a second Shiki and Dr. Indigo just stared at me—too surprised to even look annoyed.
But I was already burning. Too far past the point of caring about their reactions.
"Wealth? Fame? Sure—there are writers who want those things!" I snapped. "And I'm not condemning them. What people seek from creation is up to them. Everyone should hold to whatever keeps their motivation alive. But—! I'm different!"
"What I need is for people to read my novels! That's why I write—to be read! It's simple, but to me it's everything!"
"To me, a novel—a book—is this: taking the fantasies I think are 'interesting' and delivering them to as many people as possible through words. Making them feel it's interesting. Sharing it. Laughing, crying, being moved—together. And if it becomes even the smallest fragment of hope, or motivation, for them to live through tomorrow, then that's enough! If it becomes one good memory in their life, if it carves even the tiniest corner into a single page of their remembrance—then that's enough! That's why I write. That's it!"
"And that's why I'm happy when my fans increase—because it means more people read my work, and more people felt happy because of it!" I pressed on, words spilling out faster. "Even royalties—money coming in—those matter because it means people thought my stories were worth paying for, because they wanted them that badly, because they thought they were that enjoyable, because reading them made them happy!"
"My fame, my standing—those feel good to me because at the root of them is shared memory with my readers. Shared happiness. Shared hope. That's why I'm proud of them. That's why they're precious."
"But that's also why—because of that—I will never forgive using what I've earned for something that cheap. Something that stupid!" My breath hitched, but I didn't stop. "Call me a pirate or whatever you want—I've already swallowed that and I don't care. But even if the world turns upside down, I won't write what I don't want to write. I can't. And I will never use what I've gained as a writer for anything else!"
"That's my answer," I said, voice hard, shaking with heat. "That's everything I am. Do you understand, Golden Lion Shiki?!"
I'd said it all in one rush—so fast it startled me. My breathing was ragged when I finally stopped, glaring at Shiki and Dr. Indigo.
They were still staring at me like they couldn't quite process what they'd just heard.
Then Shiki laughed.
"Jihahahaha… I see." His grin widened. "I thought you didn't take after your mother at all… but maybe you do. That obsession of yours—digging your heels in over something that nobody else can understand? You've got that same weird streak."
"I'll take that as a compliment," I said, still breathing hard.
What I'd said had come out on pure momentum.
But it wasn't a lie.
If anything, because it had come out like that—unfiltered—it was closer to my true feelings than anything carefully phrased could've been.
There was a line I remembered from a manga in my previous life—something a character had said. I couldn't swear I had the wording perfect, but the meaning had stayed with me.
Drawing manga was breathing. If they stopped, they'd die.
It sounded extreme.
But I understood it.
For me, writing—outputting myself through novels—was almost the same thing as living. Maybe I wouldn't literally die if I stopped, but I could feel how the stress would corrode me until something broke.
Writing was life.
That was why I couldn't take anything connected to it lightly. I could only be serious.
"So," I asked, forcing my breath to steady, "are you satisfied now, Boss?"
"Of course…" Shiki said. "…No."
He lifted his palm toward the windows.
All at once—bang!—every window slammed open, and a blade of winter air cut into the room. This hideout sat on the Winter Island section, and the cold poured in without mercy.
"When it's come this far, words won't settle it." Shiki's eyes narrowed. "Then there's only one thing left."
"…Barbaric."
"But you use it too, don't you?" he said, almost pleased. "It's the quickest way. You can't deny that."
He stood, glanced at me, and walked toward one of the open windows.
I understood immediately—and moved to another.
"I didn't get to teach you anything as a parent," Shiki said as he went. "So this works out. I'll teach you now—how pirates live. The code of the sea."
"Fine. Simple enough." I met his gaze. "So if I win, I go home."
"Jihahahaha… and if I win, I'll take you." His grin sharpened. "Everything. Your strength, your mind… your fame, your life."
"I'm not promising anything," I shot back. "I'm not that noble. And I don't give up easily."
"Good. Good." His laughter rolled out again. "A lively wild mare is worth breaking in…"
The next moment—
we both leapt from the wide-open windows, at the same time, out into the cold air… and into the sky.
To be continued...