Raw strength, endurance, speed, explosive power—every facet of Dimon's body had leapt to a new level.
After devouring Monroe, he could beat a hundred of his old selves—from a minute ago.
Even better, he'd inherited Monroe's Observation Haki.
No Armament, sadly, but what did you expect from a fifty-five–million nobody? There'd be others.
"Time to deliver the wine."
He slipped out quietly. Not long after, the old steward Locke entered to clean up—and froze. The basement was empty. No Monroe. No blood.
His brows knit deep. He'd been outside the door the whole time. No exits.
That left only one answer.
"Lord Dimon… devoured him," he whispered, not in fear but reverence.
An evil that eats men— fitting for a true demon.
With such power, their Tide Song Kingdom would one day repay its debt in blood—to the Celestial Dragons.
Skull Grand Hotel, top floor banquet hall.
By the time Dimon arrived with two bottles of Wine of Immortality, the main crew of the Rocks Pirates were already gathered.
"You're finally here, Dimon. We've been waiting," Rocks laughed, clapping his hands. "Everyone, our new crewmate—the brewer!"
Fourteen pairs of eyes turned to him.
Dimon's own gaze swept the room—faces famous and infamous:
Rocks himself. Whitebeard. Shiki. Big Mom. Gloriosa. Stussy. Kaido.
And new ones—the wine-soaked John, the quiet Wang Zhi, the smiling Babel, the cigar-chomping Marlon, and Kiel Bastard.
Each was a name straight off a wanted poster.
The lowest bounty among them—Kaido's 500 million, same as his own.
"First meeting," Dimon said with a calm smile, setting the bottles on the long table.
He poured seven crystal cups, the liquid gleaming blood-red under the lanterns.
"This is the Wine of Immortality?"
Before Rocks could answer, Charlotte Linlin swooped in and downed a glass in one gulp.
Shiki grabbed the next, grinning like a child stealing candy.
Then Whitebeard, Gloriosa, Stussy, and Longbread each took theirs.
"...This taste!" Longbread's eyes shone. "Every cell is singing! A hundred times better than Shakky's swill!"
Dimon blinked. Was it really that good? He'd never tried it himself.
Then—SHING!
A sword burst clean through Longbread's chest. Blood splattered across the table.
"It hurts, you bastard!" he roared, turning to glare at the culprit.
Shiki withdrew the blade, smirking as the wound sealed itself instantly. "Gehahahaha! Just testing."
"Test yourself, not me!"
Longbread swung his knife in return—only for Rocks to sigh, rubbing his temples. "You two idiots, stop. I can't throw one banquet without someone getting stabbed."
Same chaos, different day.
Stussy and Gloriosa ignored them, adjusting hairpins and admiring their still-youthful reflections.
Whitebeard flexed his fingers, silent, measuring the new pulse of power within.
The others—those who hadn't drunk—could only stare, stunned.
A blade through the chest, healed in seconds.
It was real.
Their eyes drifted to the last untouched cup.
No one dared move. Until Rocks reached forward, took it, and drained it.
"How does it feel?" Dimon asked lightly.
To him, each of them was another top-grade harvest.
Rocks laughed. "Just like Longbread said—every cell cheering! Incredible, Dimon. To brew this from Devil Fruits… you're a genius!"
His laughter rolled across the room.
But the rest were far from calm.
John sniffed the air, throat bobbing. His regular booze suddenly smelled like dishwater.
"Dimon, any left? You can't just leave the rest of us dry—we're comrades."
Wang Zhi nodded eagerly. "Yeah, got any more?"
Dimon smiled. "One cup per Devil Fruit. Bring me one, and you can drink as much as you like."
"Devil Fruits?" The men exchanged looks—realization dawning. "So that's why you lot went after the Celestial Dragons."
Rocks' tone hardened. "He's under my protection. Anyone lays a finger on the brewer—dies by my hand!"
The warning hit home. Even pirates knew when to stop.
Marlon exhaled a smoke ring, chuckling. "No fools here. It's simple—no fruit, no drink. We'll just go find some."
Dimon's grin deepened. Let them. With the Rocks Pirates hunting Fruits for him, his supply line was set.
Then Rocks leaned forward. "Tell me, Dimon—does this wine work on giants?"
"As long as they're alive, it'll work," Dimon said. "Giants, too."
Rocks' eyes gleamed. "Perfect. You're coming with me—to the Land of Giants, Elbaf."
Before Dimon could ask why, Whitebeard explained.
"Rocks has been trying to recruit the Giant King for years. Guess he's hoping the wine will seal the deal."
Kaido snorted. "Why bother talking? Just beat him till he listens."
Rocks kicked him square in the ribs. "Harald is my friend, you oaf!"
Kaido glared, rising with a grin—ready to test that immortality.
Linlin sighed. "Idiots. The both of you."
Meanwhile, far away in the War-Land Kingdom, Elbaf—
A colossal throne room. A shadow even larger than most giants sat upon a stone dais.
Harald, the Giant King, wore a grim expression.
Before him, a Den Den Mushi squirmed, its receiver blinking.
From it came a voice heavy with age and power—the voice of the Five Elders.
"Elbaf's admission into the World Government…
has one condition, Harald.
You will kill—
Rocks D. Xebec."
The worm's eyes swiveled, reflecting Harald's grim stare.
Thunder cracked outside.
And far across the sea, the immortal pirates laughed, unaware that the world itself had just aimed a giant's blade at their throats.
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