"Worth the trip—three legends in one scene!"
"Told you the Brewer's the strongest. Otherwise those two wouldn't have stopped."
"Or maybe nobody wants to tick him off. What if he withholds the Wine?"
No one knew how the Wine of Immortality was brewed—only that Devil Fruits were the raw material. Crossing the brewer was stupid on several levels. Even if he weren't strong—he was—but even if, who knew how long someone like that had lived, or what cards he'd stacked over the centuries?
"Time's short—fair's tomorrow. We have to nab a Fruit today."
Captains' eyes flashed. One by one they ghosted away. With Shiki and BIG MOM kicking up chaos, now was prime time to fish in troubled waters. No one would notice a few quiet robberies.
Dimon didn't care about the onlookers' schemes. Bring him Fruits, get your wine—he wasn't picky who drank it.
The twist of borrowed time unwound; the Giant's Future ebbed, and he shrank back to size.
"Sashi-buri, Dimon!"
Charlotte Linlin swept him into a hug; two mountains smothered his face.
He wriggled free, deadpan. "Trying to suffocate me?"
Not an Eight–Foot Lady—an eight–meter queen.
"I brought over a dozen Fruits and this is the welcome?" Linlin put hands on hips, all business. "I'm a top customer!"
Dimon arched a brow. "You say it like you gathered them for me."
"Zero romance," she tsked, then smiled. "I founded a country—Totto Land. Come be king, hm? I'll be queen."
"No thanks."
He didn't need Observation Haki to feel it—this woman had designs on his body. Pass.
Shiki had been edging away with a fox's smile. Linlin's head snapped. "Where do you think you're going?"
"Relax. I won't rob you. I'll rob them." Shiki jerked his chin at the packed harbor.
"You're already immortal. What do you need more wine for?" Linlin let go, frowning. She had a hundred mouths to feed; Shiki… well, he didn't look like a dad.
"None of your business." Shiki's gaze slid to Dimon. "Partner up, Dimon. You and me. We build an undying army, flip the World Government, rule the world."
Rocks's will—well, more or less. Not that Rocks was dead.
Dimon waved it off. "Don't wreck my island. As for that plan… wrong year."
"Wrong year?" Shiki blinked.
"I went to Laugh Tale with Roger. Learned the truth of the Void Century." Dimon's grin flashed. "As for when—write down 1522."
Shiki's eyes glinted. "Then what's the treasure? And why did the Government rename him Gor D. Roger to Gol D. Roger? Hiding the D—what's the point?"
"You want answers? Go to the island and read them."
Would he believe it if told? Doubtful. To explain, you'd have to start at the beginning and walk the whole road.
Shiki clicked his tongue. Treasure could wait. He didn't have a single Fruit yet—and that was a problem he could fix now. He moved. Linlin moved after him.
Dimon let them run. Pirates robbing pirates was the way of the sea. If you couldn't hold your Fruit, that was on you—just don't turn Hachinosu into a crater.
The Queen Mama Chanter nosed into port. With no berth open, she sank a smaller ship and took its slot by right of bulk and song. Linlin's children disembarked in a colorful flood.
Dimon glanced over. He recognized a few faces; the rest blurred into a crowd. It reminded him of what Gloriosa liked to say:
"You have children like popcorn."
A knot of the eldest stepped up, faces from a past age grown into giants.
Charlotte Perospero — Paramecia, Lick–Lick Fruit.
Charlotte Katakuri — Paramecia, Mochi–Mochi Fruit.
Charlotte Daifuku — Paramecia, Steaming Fruit.
Charlotte Oven — Paramecia, Heat–Heat Fruit.
"You four, huh? Long time. Blink and you're huge," Dimon said, easy.
Back when Rocks hadn't broken apart, they'd been knee-high terrors. Now Katakuri stood over five meters, the others not far behind.
"Mr. Dimon."
"Where's Mama?"
Voices overlapped.
Dimon's eyes half-lidded. He stepped—and was suddenly above Katakuri. The punch that dropped came like a thunderclap.
"Call me Uncle Dimon."
Ow.
Face in the deck, Katakuri clapped a hand to the back of his head, stunned. Observation hadn't even traced the motion. Too fast.
"...Uncle Dimon."
"Good." Dimon squatted and ruffled his hair. "Little mochi. Your mother brought wine for you this time?"
When he was small, Dimon had teased the kid a lot. Now the boy wore a scarf to hide that great mouth.
Katakuri's sigh was silent. There was the gap in generation—and an abyss in strength. He didn't twitch.
"This time Mama brought fifteen Fruits," he managed.
"Only fifteen? You sure that's enough for your brood? Where's Longarm Bread?"
"Someone has to hold Cacao Island," Katakuri said.
Dimon chuckled and stood. "The fair's tomorrow. Guard your Fruits—don't get robbed."
He turned away.
Who would dare rob the Charlotte family? Katakuri thought—even as the harbor howled with opportunists.
Perospero sidled up, hauling him to his feet, tongue lolling. "Every time I see him I get the chills. Same as when we were kids. If we were the same age he'd be the king of brats. That jerk."
"Shh." Oven put a finger to his lips. "He's not far. He'll hear you."
Behind them, a phalanx of brothers and sisters stared, silent. The heroic big-brother aura took a hit.
In its place, a different legend took hold on the docks—
Uncle Dimon.
Tomorrow: the Wine of Immortality Trade Fair begins.
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