Chapter 12: The Encounter
Once Eiger decided to lead the village of Sibia in its winemaking venture, he didn't waste a single moment.
After Nico carefully finished drafting the brewing techniques and business plan, Eiger brought the matter straight to Chief Marin, who had conveniently stopped by the house.
The old man was so thrilled that he immediately sprinted back to the village to gather everyone. In less than an hour, a crowd had gathered outside Eiger's home, buzzing with excitement and curiosity.
Eiger, who had been planning to go out for a bit of exercise, could only sigh and step aside for Nico—whose cheeks were still pink from earlier, giving him a reproachful glance before walking out to face the villagers.
"Quiet, everyone," she said firmly, her tone calm but commanding.
It was surprising how quickly the chatter died down. Nico had that kind of presence—gentle yet confident.
She'd taken the idea to heart the moment Eiger supported her, and now, standing before the villagers, she explained the plan with enthusiasm and precision.
Taking into account that many of them had never done anything beyond farming, she broke everything down step by step—how to ferment the grapes, how to bottle, how to store, and even how to brand the product.
Whenever someone had a question, she paused to clarify it patiently, making sure no one felt left behind.
Her clear voice, graceful posture, and confident demeanor drew the villagers in completely. The initial skepticism in their eyes gradually turned into hope and excitement.
By the time she finished, they were all smiling and cheering—some even chanting her name.
Eiger stood in the crowd, quietly watching her with a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
So this is what she's like when she's serious.
Elegant. Brilliant. Unshakably confident.
He found himself imagining how she might look wearing the black business suit he'd bought earlier that week after a persistent merchant had convinced him it would "look stunning on a lady like your fiancée."
He'd dismissed it at the time, but now…
he was definitely going to ask her to try it on tonight.
"Beautiful, isn't she?"
Eiger turned to find Chief Marin elbowing him with a grin that could only be described as smug.
"I told you! You were hesitating for nothing, you lucky brat. Didn't expect your woman to be this capable! Wonder what she used to do before she lost her memory?"
Eiger's expression didn't change. He simply stared at the stage.
What she used to do?
The World Government's most wanted woman—the Demon's Child herself.
Of course, he didn't say it out loud.
"Ah, who cares what she was," Marin continued cheerfully. "She's your wife now. Don't you dare let her slip away!"
"Don't worry," Eiger replied dryly, a flicker of amusement in his tone. "She's not going anywhere."
Marin's gaze dropped to the parchment in his hands—Nico's neatly written plan—and his grin faded into a look of concern. "A factory though? That's gonna cost a lot, isn't it?"
"Don't worry about money," Eiger said. "The Navy already sent me the bounty from the Giant Bear Pirates a few days ago."
Marin blinked, then his eyes widened. "You mean that bounty? You're putting all of it in?"
Eiger nodded. "I'll invest the whole thing into the winery. Consider it my contribution to the village."
Marin hesitated, visibly moved. "But… that's your reward. You earned it, boy. Without you, we'd all be dead."
Eiger chuckled lightly. "Think of it as me investing in my hometown. The winery can be a village venture. Everyone should benefit."
To him, the money didn't matter much. It wasn't an enormous fortune, but it was more than enough for what they needed—and honestly, if wealth had been his goal, he'd never have retired in the first place.
Besides, he owed Marin a debt that no amount of money could repay.
The old man had saved him years ago—pulled him from the sea when he'd been just another nameless youth—and later helped fund his journey to join the Navy.
And now, ironically, Marin had done it again—rescued him from the emptiness of that world and, in a way, even handed him a wife.
In Eiger's eyes, Marin wasn't just a village chief. He was a savior, twice over.
"Of course," Eiger added, glancing back toward the house, "Nico and I will take a share too. We'll build it together."
"Hah! Well then," Marin said, visibly relieved, "I'll drink to that!"
Then, grinning mischievously, he leaned closer and nudged Eiger again.
"So tell me, when are you two planning on having kids, eh?"
Eiger froze for half a beat. "Kids?"
Marin nodded sagely. "Of course! A family business needs the next generation, doesn't it?"
Eiger's mouth twitched.
Great. I really have become a rural husband now.
Other transmigrators conquered empires, became legends of the sea…
And him?
He was starting a winery and being lectured about children.
Guess my path to glory really is the "Revitalize the Countryside" route.
Even with everything seemingly going well, Eiger couldn't quite bring himself to relax.
He tilted his head up toward the small hill where Nico was working alongside the villagers—her long hair tied up, her expression focused and radiant. A quiet smile curved his lips.
"…Who knows," he murmured under his breath. "Let's just… see how it all goes."
---
In the days that followed, Eiger left most of the winery's planning and construction to Nico and Chief Marin.
Though his mornings started a bit later now that he had a wife waiting at home, his discipline hadn't dulled. He still trained every day after sunrise, heading into the backwoods to sharpen both body and blade—or rather, his axe.
His physique had long since reached its peak. At this point, breaking through would require something drastic: a Devil Fruit… or a battle to the death. But that didn't matter. The routine itself was part of who he was.
And so, each morning, after tightening the straps on his boots and grabbing his axe, Eiger would disappear into the misty forest behind the village.
Nico, meanwhile, had begun to truly settle in. Her memory still hadn't returned, but the anxious look she'd carried when she first arrived was gone. She'd become part of the village—smiling more, worrying less.
Still, Eiger sometimes caught a flicker of something in her eyes—a shadow of confusion, a faint hesitation—quickly buried beneath her calm smile.
That morning, the air was crisp and cool. The autumn chill had deepened; winter wasn't far off.
"Don't forget to come back early," Nico said softly, fixing the collar of his shirt as he prepared to leave. She smiled, the morning light brushing across her face. "I made you a bento. Eat when you get hungry, alright? Oh, and don't bother hunting today—we already have enough meat for winter. But if you find good firewood, bring some back. We're running a little low."
"Got it," Eiger replied, nodding.
With that, he slung his axe over his shoulder, grabbed the bento, and set off toward the forest.
The wind bit colder the deeper he went. He exhaled, watching his breath mist in the air.
"Guess I should get Nico some winter clothes," he muttered to himself. "Didn't think to buy any when the last trade ship came through…"
He frowned. The village might not have anything suitable, but he could probably commission a tailor to make her something warm.
He'd check on the way back.
As those thoughts drifted through his mind, the forest opened up before him—his usual training ground, where chopped logs and tree stumps stood in neat rows.
Time to begin.
Eiger exhaled deeply, stripped off his shirt despite the chill, and raised the axe.
He swung—clean, sharp, precise.
Each strike landed with controlled power, his muscles flexing with mechanical rhythm. The tree creaked, splintered, and fell.
This wasn't mindless chopping. It was training—precision control over every ounce of his strength. The technique that had birthed his signature move, Micro Dust Slash.
Unfortunately, the 315th Division hadn't exactly been a hotbed of axe-users. There was little he could learn from others.
He'd once entertained the thought of heading to the East Blue to find the so-called Axe King, maybe even bump into a certain "dog-hatted" Marine to pull a few strings at Headquarters.
But the opportunity had never come—and now, here he was, retired and living quietly.
After a few more hours of swinging and breathing, he closed his eyes and expanded his Observation Haki.
The forest fell silent. He felt the faint sway of the branches, the cool kiss of wind on his skin… and something else.
A flicker of presence.
His hand paused for the briefest moment. Then, pretending not to notice, he resumed chopping.
The next strike came down slow and deliberate—though only in appearance. The instant his axe moved, the tree in front of him split cleanly from base to crown, the trunk falling with a thunderous crack.
He wiped sweat from his brow, sat down to eat the bento Nico had packed, and rested under the afternoon sun.
When he finally stood again, the sky had already begun to darken. The sun was dipping low, streaking gold through the forest canopy.
He took one last deep breath, pulled on his shirt, and turned to leave—
Only to freeze.
A voice, calm yet tinged with laziness, called from behind him.
"Excuse me… former Marine Ensign Eiger."
Eiger turned, eyes narrowing slightly.
A tall man stood there, built like a fortress, with wild, unkempt hair and a black eyepatch strapped across his forehead. His expression was unreadable—half boredom, half amusement.
Eiger didn't speak. He simply stared back, silent and watchful.
The man raised a hand casually and pulled something from his coat.
A photograph.
He held it out and asked, still in that same unhurried tone—
"Have you seen this person before?"