Western Kingdom, Tomb Hall.
Ryan reclined lazily against the cold stone wall, one leg casually crossed over the other. His eyes were half-lidded as smoke curled slowly from his lips, a lazy smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His expression radiated undisguised satisfaction.
Especially when he recalled Nico Robin's demeanor earlier—her entire body tense yet refusing to struggle, those eyes that held too many stories brimming with equal parts obsession for the Poneglyph and suppressed defiance.
Unlike ordinary women who would either scream or submit, she insisted on maintaining an unyielding pride even in humiliation. And it was precisely this quality that made her all the more intriguing. That mature intellect wrapped in resilience was far more appealing than the shrill antics of flighty girls.
Ryan took a drag from his cigar, letting the tobacco's spice mingle with the satisfaction swelling in his chest. Justice or evil, the Marines' opinions, the world's rules—none of it mattered to him. The judgment of others had never factored into his considerations.
He'd obtained what he wanted, and that tangible pleasure was far more real than any abstract ideal.
Nico Robin's cheeks were flushed as if from wine as she leaned against the stone wall, catching her breath. Her chest rose and fell gently, her gaze still slightly dazed, but it sharpened the moment it landed on Ryan.
Drawing a deep breath, she forced her trembling body upright. Her white denim jacket lay discarded on the floor, the cuffs of her pants dusted with grime from the chamber. As she bent to pick it up, her long hair slipped over her shoulders, obscuring half her face—only her tightly pressed lips remained visible.
Her fingers paused briefly upon touching the fabric before she slowly pulled the indigo tank top back over herself. The smooth material slid against her skin, the straps settling just below her collarbones, revealing vivid red marks along her neck.
"In such a hurry to leave?" Ryan's voice suddenly cut through the silence, rough with smoke.
"The deal is done," Robin replied without turning, merely tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her voice was still slightly hoarse but carried an unmistakable chill. As she turned, her wide-brimmed hat settled back over her head, shadowing her eyes. "You're not going to stop me, are you?"
The words sounded like a question, but her tone held a barely perceptible tension.
Robin knew all too well that with men like Ryan, so-called "deals" might have no end—like an unfurled net. Once stepped into, escape became nearly impossible.
"I'm no saint, but I keep my word." Ryan chuckled, stubbing out his cigar against the stone wall. The embers sizzled and died as he tilted his head toward the exit. "You're free to go whenever."
Robin's grip on her hat loosened slightly, the weight in her chest lifting—but her wariness remained. She took half a step back, her foot already on the stone steps leading upward. "Thank you."
Just as she turned to leave, Ryan's voice followed: "Where to next?"
Robin froze, whirling around with sharp suspicion. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason." Ryan ignored her guardedness, his gaze lingering on her wary eyes. His tone was casual. "You aligned with Crocodile before because you wanted protection, didn't you?"
He paused, his eyes flickering to Robin's clenched fists. Even after compromise, those hands still held unyielding defiance. That stubborn resilience was far more interesting than those who crumpled at the slightest pressure, begging for mercy.
"Rather than shackle yourself to another fool like Sand Crocodile," Ryan's lips curled into a half-smile, his eyes glinting with predatory interest, "why not consider staying with me? At the very least, I can show you more of what you seek."
The words struck Robin like a stone, sending ripples through her composure.
Her head snapped up, her hat tilting from the abrupt motion. Beneath the brim, her eyes widened in shock, her breath catching.
She'd assumed their earlier transaction marked the end of a humiliating chapter—like tearing away a disgraceful page, leaving nothing behind. She never expected him to extend what amounted to an "invitation" bordering on ownership.
Nico Robin stared at Ryan's languid form against the wall, her gaze flickering violently as countless thoughts clashed within. She understood exactly what lurked behind those five words: "Stay by my side."
It wasn't an offer of partnership or equality, but endless compromise and degradation—grinding her dignity into dust until she became a plaything in his palm. Just like earlier before the stone tablet, when his arms encircled her and she bit back her resentment. Like the lingering marks on her neck, a constant reminder of the "price" beyond their deal.
All these years, she'd endured betrayals, scorn, even bargaining with devils—all to survive, to inch closer to the secrets carved in stone. She'd made herself a shadow.
But through it all, she'd drawn one line: she could be a pawn, biding her time for a greater goal, but never a puppet. Never kneeling in soul.
Ryan's gaze was too blatant, his possessiveness—that "still-hungry" craving—coiling around her like a serpent's tongue, chilling her to the bone.
"No need." Robin's voice cut through the air, calm yet unshakable. She took a decisive step back, widening the distance between them. Beneath her hat, her eyes were ice. "I prefer walking my own path over 'opportunities' bought through dependence."
"Sure about that?" Ryan arched a brow, seemingly surprised by her refusal. "Miss this chance, and who knows how long you'll wait for the next person who can lead you to the Poneglyphs. A year? A decade? Maybe... a lifetime."
"I can wait however long it takes." Robin met his gaze squarely, her voice soft but clear. "One humiliating deal is enough. I've no interest in becoming something to be used at will."
"Oh?" Ryan drew out the syllable, a flicker of surprise giving way to deeper intrigue. "So certain you'll reach the end alone? The Poneglyphs aren't pebbles on the roadside, waiting to be picked up."
"You're right. There aren't many who can show me the Poneglyphs." Robin turned away, her boots striking the stone steps with sharp, resolute echoes. "But I'd rather die searching than trade my freedom and dignity a second time."
Her footsteps climbed higher, growing distant until they vanished beyond the Tomb Hall's stone door, leaving only hollow echoes behind.
"Interesting." Ryan stared at the sealed door before chuckling low, the sound reverberating through the chamber. His tone held surprise and an odd thread of admiration, tinged with something indefinable. "Sturdier than I expected."
He'd assumed Nico Robin would abandon all dignity for her so-called "obsession," clinging to him like a drowning woman to driftwood.
Yet instead... well. He liked her all the more for it.