The clash of Conqueror's Haki split the heavens apart.
Black and red lightning crackled, tearing through the sea of clouds.
The backlash alone swept across the Marine battleship—dozens of sailors dropped like wheat before a storm.
Thud! Thud!
Below the rank of commander, they all fainted, eyes rolling back.
Sengoku's face hardened. "You… possess Conqueror's Haki?!"
There had been no mention of that in the reports. Dimon's strength was far beyond what intelligence suggested.
Dimon smirked. "Is that so strange? And this is our first meeting, isn't it? The famed 'Strategist' Sengoku—are you sure you want to fight me here?"
The golden Buddha froze.
He could fly—not Sengoku. And with a ship full of unconscious subordinates below, the battlefield offered the admiral no advantage.
The golden radiance faded. In moments, Sengoku shrank back to human form, forcing a calm smile.
"Just a greeting, Dimon. I underestimated you. You're far stronger than our records suggest."
He paused, eyes narrowing.
"The others have been wreaking havoc across the seas. You vanished for five years—and now you suddenly reappear. Why?"
"Passing by," Dimon said airily. "Thought I'd drop a hello."
Sengoku's jaw twitched. He didn't believe a word.
Meeting by chance, here, at a hidden research ship? He wasn't stupid.
"You're protecting Vegapunk and his scientists, aren't you?" he probed.
Dimon didn't bother to lie. "And if I am?"
That surprised Sengoku.
According to intelligence, the MADS organization's funding came from the underworld loan shark, Du Feld—one of the "Dark World Kings."
Now it seemed Rocks' remnants had ties there too.
His mission was to recruit Vegapunk on behalf of the World Government—or capture him if he refused.
But with Dimon here… that was no longer possible.
Sengoku's expression shifted again; this time, a wry grin.
"Fine. I'll give you some face. We'll call it even."
Dimon arched an eyebrow. Do I have the Face-Face Fruit now? Still, he wasn't complaining.
He wasn't afraid of Sengoku—he just didn't want a fight that might sink the research vessel.
"In that case," Dimon said mildly, "you can leave. Or should I give you a lift?"
"My men are all unconscious," Sengoku replied evenly. "We'll wait till they wake.
But while we wait… why not talk business?"
Dimon chuckled. "The Navy and pirates—doing business?"
"Just different sides of the same coin," Sengoku said. "You're a brewer; I'm a buyer. What can't we discuss?"
Dimon's smile deepened.
"Buyers are buyers. I don't care who the customer is—as long as you can pay."
He didn't mind in the slightest. One Devil Fruit for one cup of Eternal Life Wine—that was his standard rate.
Drink it, and you'd live forever… though in truth, you'd also become his.
A crop to harvest later.
At that moment, Dimon stepped beyond "pirate" and "navy," standing as a third force—a merchant between worlds.
"One Devil Fruit per cup of Eternal Life Wine," he said. "But since this is your first purchase, I'll offer a discount: three fruits for a full bottle."
A bottle served four cups.
The Navy already knew that much from earlier reports.
Sengoku nodded. "Agreed. But I'm on duty now. Once I return, I'll prepare the payment. How do I contact you?"
Dimon pulled a small card from his coat, flicking it toward Sengoku.
The admiral caught it—a string of numbers was etched on its surface.
"My Den-Den Mushi number," Dimon said. "Call when you're ready."
With that, he turned away, descending lightly toward the MADS ship.
"Start the engines!" Vegapunk barked, voice tight. "If the Navy won't leave, we will!"
"Don't order me around, Vegapunk!"
Caesar Clown sneered, drifting inside as a cloud of gas. Moments later, the ship began to move.
Then a small figure sprinted from the deck and threw herself into Dimon's arms.
"Dimon~! You came to rescue me! I'm so happy~!"
Rescue you? he thought drily. You were just my walking GPS.
Out loud, he smiled. "Sasuga ne, Stussy."
"Sasuga~!" she sang, and promptly kissed his cheek.
From his ship, Sengoku watched the MADS vessel retreat—and the kiss did not escape his notice.
"For that woman?" he murmured. "Those two were both Rocks Pirates once… so they have that kind of relationship."
He'd thought the Rocks remnants were all enemies. Perhaps… not entirely.
"Admiral Sengoku!" a commodore stepped up nervously. "When we report back… what should we say?"
"Report the mission truthfully," Sengoku said after a pause. "But skip the part about our transaction."
He exhaled, rubbing his temples.
Four cups of Eternal Life Wine—if the World Government found out, they'd demand it immediately.
No, he'd get the wine first, drink it, then tell them. Once it was in his veins, they couldn't take it back.
Of course, he'd need allies. Better to share the spoils and the risk.
Kong… Garp… Tsuru… Zephyr. That would do.
"Bring me a Den-Den Mushi," he ordered.
The commodore fetched one. Sengoku dialed. After a few rings, a gruff voice answered.
"What is it? Why are you using the emergency line?"
—Fleet Admiral Kong.
Sengoku smiled faintly.
"Fleet Admiral, I just encountered Dimon the Brewer at sea."
A sharp intake of breath. "What?! You're supposed to be on a classified mission!"
"I failed. Doesn't matter." Sengoku's tone softened, almost persuasive. "We struck a deal—three Devil Fruits for one bottle of Eternal Life Wine. I'd like you to submit a requisition to the Five Elders—under the pretext of training new recruits."
And as he spoke, the light of a true strategist gleamed in Sengoku's eyes.
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