The banquet was in full swing—wine, food, women, laughter.
Vegapunk wasn't one for pleasures of the flesh, but Caesar, Queen, and Judge were a trio of unashamed gluttons and lechers. Each had a courtesan in either arm, grinning like they'd been reborn.
The red-light district of the Flower Capital thrived under Dimon's rule. After his purge of Wano's samurai, many widows—left without a source of income—turned to the trade.
Dimon himself wasn't interested in ordinary geisha; normally, an oiran poured his drink. But tonight, Stussy had claimed that privilege.
When the last toast was raised and the guests retired, Dimon arranged rooms for everyone.
As for the Pluton project—that could wait until morning.
The Shogun's Private Spring
Later, Dimon slipped into the steaming hot spring behind the mansion.
He dismissed the servants and sank into the warmth, arms stretched across the stone rim, breathing out a rare sigh of peace.
Fixing Pluton's power source will bleed the treasury dry… Wano might not hold up under the strain.
Research was a bottomless pit. Maybe it was time to make money.
Wano's Seastone—rare, priceless, endlessly demanded—could fill coffers easily. Its craftsmen could shape it into any form.
He was lost in thought when soft footsteps echoed through the mist.
"Well, well. The Shogun's palace even has a private bath? And you didn't invite me?"
Wrapped in a snow-white towel, Stussy stepped in with a playful smile.
"Maybe," Dimon said dryly, "because this isn't mixed bathing. It's my private spring."
She dipped a pale foot to test the water. "So serious~ I like hot springs too."
He didn't send her away. Moments later, she slid into the water beside him.
Dimon called for fruit and milk—might as well enjoy the intrusion.
Morning After
When Dimon woke, Stussy was already at the vanity, humming as she did her makeup.
He chuckled. "Morning. The spring was… pure. I approve."
"Lucky you," she teased. "You slept like a log. Get up already—I'm going to see the Pluton warship."
"You're running around already?"
"Did you forget? I'm immortal." She winked. "All healed up!"
Dimon paused. Immortal, yes… which means she'll keep feeling the pain every time she gets hurt.
Then shrugged. Not my problem.
They dressed and met the others for breakfast. The three scientists looked freshly satisfied—clearly Wano's hospitality had been generous.
By noon, the group was on their way to Fujiyama, where the colossal Pluton slumbered. The scientists scattered around the chamber like children in a candy store, eyes gleaming at the warship's design.
Marineford — Fleet Admiral's Office
"These are the three Devil Fruits you wanted."
Fleet Admiral Kong gestured at the table, wary. "You're sure this isn't a trap?"
"Not a one-time deal, sir," Sengoku said smoothly. "As long as he wants more Fruits, trading with him is… mutually efficient."
Kong grunted. "Sounds like a merchant. What's he doing with so many Fruits?"
"Brewing material," Sengoku replied. "Or so the reports say. Possibly building an army of ability users."
Kong scoffed. "Even the best Fruit's useless without the right wielder. Quantity means nothing."
Still, his eyes flickered. The Navy had hunted the immortal remnants for five years—every encounter left the Admiralty envious.
Now there was a chance at that same immortality. Who could refuse?
"Contact him," Kong ordered. "But we pick the meeting place. If it's a trap, we're not walking into it."
Sengoku nodded, taking out the slip of paper Dimon had given him. He dialed the number.
Reverse Summon
After a few rings—
"Moshi moshi. Who's this?"
"It's me. Sengoku."
"Oh, it's you. Got the goods ready?"
"Of course. We'll choose the location. This is our first trade; no reason for either of us to walk away unhappy."
He emphasized first, hinting there'd be more. He trusted Dimon to understand.
"No need for all that trouble…"
Before Sengoku could respond, the paper in his hand sparked.
Black lightning surged across the desk—smoke rising, curling into a spinning sigil.
"What—?!"
Both men recoiled as the air split.
The smoke coalesced into a dark pentagram. At its center, shadow thickened—until Dimon stepped out of it, smiling pleasantly.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen."
"You!" Sengoku snapped. "That paper—your ability?!"
Dimon brushed nonexistent dust from his coat. "No tricks. Just a little spell I call [Reverse Summon]."
He touched down lightly on the carpet, wings of black fire spreading for an instant before fading.
Kong's eyes narrowed. "You're… a Lunarian?"
Dimon said nothing. Let them believe what they wanted.
Only a handful in the world knew he was something worse—something truly demonic.
He strolled toward the couch, glancing at the table. "So this is Marineford? Nice office. Bit sterile, though."
He picked an apple from the fruit basket, took a bite, and sat down, crossing one leg over the other.
"Let's not waste time. The trade."
The Fleet Admiral and the Admiral of the Navy exchanged looks.
Capture him? Here and now?
A suicidal thought, quickly dismissed.
Kong gave a curt nod. Sengoku stepped forward, placing the three Devil Fruits before Dimon.
Dimon, in turn, conjured a fresh bottle of Eternal Life Wine, crystal glimmering with faint gold light.
He smiled, eyes glinting.
"Since you're giving me a little discount today… why not return the favor?
Throw in a Devil Fruit Encyclopedia as a gift."
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