Dimon truly didn't know where the fourth red Road Poneglyph was.
That part would have to be Roger's hunt.
"That's enough, Dimon. You've already helped me plenty. Thank you." Roger bowed with unusual sincerity. "When I find the last stone, I'll take you with me—to the final island."
"Then work hard."
Dimon was curious about the Great Treasure. That old fox Oda had hidden it for so long—hiding it straight past Dimon's own reincarnation without a reveal. Hmph. He'd see it with his own eyes.
As Roger tucked the rubbing away, Dimon suddenly remembered something. "Right—you came all this way to see me. Did you collect any Devil Fruits over the years?"
"Of course. I found two!"
The Roger Pirates didn't eat Devil Fruits, but for the Wine of Immortality they'd still kept an eye out.
"And where are they?"
"…I gave them to Shakky."
Dimon blinked. When I type a question mark, it means you're the problem.
"Both of them?"
"Yesterday we ran into the Kuja Pirates. She told us to leave the treasure, so… we did."
So they were robbed!
No—this was voluntary robbery!
Roger cleared his throat, trying to save face. "Shiki got robbed too."
Dimon no longer had the strength to roast him. Instead, a wicked idea sprouted: partner up with Shakky, broadcast to the world, and demand everyone submit their Devil Fruits. Might just get rich overnight.
"It's only two Fruits," Roger laughed, not bothered. "We'll find more."
"Your crew didn't object to you handing them to Shakky?" Dimon still found it ridiculous.
"The moment she said 'leave the treasure,' those idiots moved faster than I did," Roger sighed. "Except Rayleigh."
Bunch of bootlickers…
Ah well. In the end Shakky would trade the Fruits for wine anyway. Net effect: zero.
Dimon waved him off. "I don't want to see your stupid face for a bit."
"Hahaha, don't be like that. How about a drink?"
Roger threw an arm around him anyway, and the evening turned into another banquet.
The next morning.
Abel arrived at the dining hall, newspaper in hand. "Lord Dimon, today's World Economy News might interest you."
"Set it there. Good timing—I have a job for you." Dimon ate as he spoke. Money was a pressing matter; Doflamingo was still too young to be truly useful. The Seastone business could wait. Free money, however, should be picked up immediately.
"In Paradise, there's an island called Jaya. In the nearby sea, a Knock-Up Stream erupts periodically. If a ship happens to be there, it can be blasted up ten thousand meters to Skypiea."
"You won't need it—you can fly. Go straight up and find the Sky Island." Dimon handed Abel a blank sheet of paper. "Take this. Call me the second you find it."
"Yes, Lord Dimon!"
Abel didn't ask why. If Dimon ordered it, he executed. No need for reasons.
As Abel departed, Dimon ran the numbers again. Skypiea had enough gold to fund the Onigashima Research Institute and the Pluton fuel project several times over.
Compared to that, how to pull Rocks back was the real puzzle.
The Five Elders and the God's Knights were manageable—worst case, he'd call in favors. The problem was Imu might move personally.
If the pirate world had a power ranking, Imu would be god-tier. Stronger—or the peer—of only two beings: Joy Boy eight hundred years ago, and perhaps the legendary Davy Jones. Those three stood far above the "king-tier" like Rocks… or Harald.
Joy Boy's Conqueror's Haki could be stored for eight centuries and still rip through the Elders' transformations and yeet people across space-time. That performance eclipsed Rocks by miles.
And Imu beat Joy Boy in the end—whatever means were used, that made them equals at minimum.
Dimon figured he'd need to reach god-tier himself before he could kick the doors in and Devour Rocks. Ironically, by then… whether he devoured Rocks or not might not even matter.
"This guy misunderstood and thinks I'm coming to save him. Now I feel bad about doing the deed."
"Not urgent. I'll stockpile more Wine of Immortality first—then head to Impel Down and swallow everyone on Level Six."
He still had just over a thousand Demon Points—about forty to fifty cups of wine. A little thin. Better to prep at least a hundred or two before he went.
Alternatively, he could clear out Wang Zhi, Silver Axe, and the rest. Those apples were ripe; their growth had plateaued. Time for harvest.
While thinking, Dimon unfolded the paper Abel brought.
Today's headline was interesting:
The Five Apex Pirate Forces:
The Roger Pirates.
The Whitebeard Pirates.
The Flying Pirates.
The Big Mom Pirates.
And a single individual…
The man known as "Red the Aloof," Barorick Ledfield!
"One man slipped into a list of four pirate crews?" Dimon arched a brow. Not what he expected. He remembered that name—introduced in a feature piece, rumored to rival the Roger Pirates and the Whitebeard Pirates alone.
"This era's crawling with monsters… and that one's prime, premium-leaf chives." Dimon glanced at the byline. Of course—'News King' Morgans. The bird loved a bonfire. His articles always egged pirates into smashing each other's faces.
Especially the kicker:
This reporter believes these five are the current peaks of the pirate world.
But one more must not be forgotten—his existence stands above the Five Peaks.
The mysterious Brewer who crafts the Wine of Immortality: Dimon!
From Beehive Island comes the legend of a liquor that halts age and heals all…
"Well, I'll be." Dimon's eyebrow hopped. "Still daring to write about me, huh?"
For a second he considered paying the newspaper HQ a friendly visit. But on second thought, the wine being public knowledge wasn't bad. Now, when anyone scored a Devil Fruit, they'd think not just "eat or sell," but also "trade for Wine."
"Not bad, Morgans. I'll count that as a favor."
…But leaving Kaido off the Five Peaks—wasn't that a bit disrespectful?
Dimon lifted the cup, smiling to himself—
—and a Den Den Mushi on the table crackled alive, its voice tense:
"Shogun-sama! Report from the Beasts' Citadel gate—Kaido is here. He says if Morgans won't put his name among the Five Peaks… he'll carve a sixth out of the world—starting with Wano!"
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