Kuro stroked his chin thoughtfully. "So… Bartholomew Kuma, one of the Seven Warlords—he's actually with the Revolutionary Army?"
White Ghost took out the Devil Fruit Encyclopedia, planning to identify the abilities. He nodded. "Yeah. He's one of Dragon's people planted inside the World Government."
Kuro's eyes lit up in realization. "No wonder people say he's the odd one among the Warlords—so obedient to the Government. Turns out he's just using them to dig up intel."
White Ghost nodded again and returned to flipping through the encyclopedia.
Mythical Zoan—skip.
Logia—skip.
Ancient Zoan—here we go.
"Found it." A grin tugged at the corner of White Ghost's mouth.
Uta leaned over curiously and saw him pointing at a Devil Fruit shaped like a watermelon.
"Bird-Bird Fruit — Zoan, Ancient Type: Archaeopteryx Form."
White Ghost rolled the fruit in his palm. "Tsk… I really didn't expect this. Those old geezers actually handed me a flying fruit."
Kuro nodded. "A flying Ancient Zoan is worth a fortune. That's… surprisingly generous."
Uta agreed silently.
She already knew Devil Fruits were rare—at least for ordinary people. And flight abilities were even rarer.
White Ghost slapped a label on it, stored it in his bracelet, then searched for the second Ancient Zoan.
A moment later, his finger stopped.
"Zoan, Ancient Type: Dire Lion."
White Ghost raised a brow. "A true beast. If a big brute eats this… he'll become terrifying."
He stored that one too.
Now he moved on to the Paramecia section.
He'd already said it—two Ancient Zoans, three Paramecias.
When he found the first Paramecia entry, White Ghost's grin split wide enough to show his back teeth.
Kuro took a sip of red wine, amused. "Looks like a good one."
"HAHAHA!" White Ghost's laughter echoed across the ship.
Everyone who was training paused and looked over.
Captain found something insane again, huh…
"Obsidian ability!" White Ghost laughed, playing with the fruit in his hand. "The heavens are favoring me!"
Zango came up to see what was happening—and froze.
"Boss… what did you just say? A Paramecia that turns you into obsidian? Don't mess with me!"
White Ghost nodded.
Zango instantly got excited.
Obsidian could rival diamond in hardness.
And Zango knew exactly what "diamond-level" meant—he'd fought Diamond Jozu during that war in the New World.
Back then, Zango's Armament had nearly shattered from punching, and Jozu still looked like he was saying, "Come on, hit harder. I'm almost feeling it."
Zango had nearly been driven insane.
Only after Zango grasped advanced Armament—Ryuo—did he finally start hurting him. But Jozu wasn't going to stand still and let him be hammered.
After that war, Zango had been bruised black-and-blue, coughing blood, ribs broken.
If not for his Ancient Zoan endurance, he might've died on the spot.
His first thought was:
If Urki ate this… what would he become?
But he didn't say it.
The captain decided. A subordinate didn't point fingers.
White Ghost laughed, stored the Obsidian Fruit, and continued.
Soon, he found the second Paramecia.
His smile slowly faded.
Instead, he looked… conflicted.
Kuro noticed immediately.
Something was off.
Uta tilted her head. "White Ghost… what's wrong?"
White Ghost shook his head. "Nothing. Just… thinking."
Then he read the entry.
"Paramecia: Causality Fruit. It absorbs damage and converts it into a power boost. The more damage you take, the stronger the boost—up to a limit. But once it awakens… who knows how far it can go?"
White Ghost leaned back in his folding chair, tapping the table with his finger.
A while back, before they set off to travel, Kuro had joked that his luck was absurd—told him to pay attention, because he might stumble into treasures.
And honestly?
Looking back…
Skypiea: the Lightning Fruit, the Seven-Star Sword.
Then Naqin—the herbal medicine genius.
Then Olga and her father.
White Ghost stared up at the sky.
Luck? Fate?
He didn't believe in gods.
But if not…
how did he even end up in this world?
And why did this fruit—something he'd mentioned not long ago—suddenly appear right in front of him?
Coincidence?
Kuro couldn't read White Ghost's thoughts, but he could tell he was stuck in something deeper than "this fruit is good."
Kuro gave Zango a look.
The two of them quietly walked away, leaving space.
Nami also left—still wearing her Seastone cuffs.
Only Uta stayed behind, gently massaging White Ghost's shoulders.
Her voice softened. "White Ghost… is there something wrong with that fruit?"
White Ghost snapped back to reality.
He cursed inwardly.
Why am I overthinking this? I'm already here. Might as well live properly.
He reached up and held Uta's hand. "Nothing. I just drifted into some thoughts. I'm fine."
Uta's face flushed, but she didn't pull away.
She was used to small things like this by now.
White Ghost tugged gently—
"Ah—!"
Uta slipped into his arms.
She lay against his chest, face burning red, heart hammering.
White Ghost held her, breathing in her faint fragrance.
He hated heavy perfume.
His girls all knew that.
Uta was sixteen now—fresh, lively, and… honestly too mature for her age.
She had everything she was supposed to have.
But White Ghost still hadn't crossed that line.
Not yet.
Before twenty… it felt weird.
With one arm around Uta, he stored the Causality Fruit, then kept searching for the last Paramecia.
Uta stayed quiet, enjoying this rare moment.
They didn't get many chances to be alone.
Usually it was just hand-holding.
White Ghost's finger stopped.
"Found it."
"Paramecia: Strength-Strength Fruit."
He closed his eyes and clicked his tongue.
"Damn it… does the universe know I want to ruin Jesus Burgess?"
Burgess had followed Blackbeard and basically wasted his potential.
If trained properly, he could've been an elite Vice Admiral level fighter.
Burgess should still be somewhere on the Grand Line right now.
White Ghost decided:
After they finished touring the four seas, he'd go find him.
He'd wanted to do it at Water 7, but his girls dragged him here and there, and he forgot. By the time he remembered, they were already in the Calm Belt.
So he'd just do it later—once they returned to the Grand Line.
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