Even though the names of his new techniques made him cringe, Ron muttered under his breath,
"Select: Black Tiger's Heaven Demon Rampage, and Rayleigh's Conqueror's Haki."
The Heaven Demon Rampage was Black Tiger's ultimate move — and possibly the most embarrassingly named one.
Still, when it came to sheer practicality, Conqueror's Haki far outclassed Rayleigh's other abilities.
[Ding — Fusion initiated.]
A strange tremor coursed through Ron's body. Energy surged inside him like a storm, no pain, just a spreading warmth in his gut that almost made him… groan.
He clenched his teeth — Rem and Ram were in the next room, after all — and endured as the power rippled outward.
The warmth exploded, expanding through every muscle and bone, until a wave of force erupted from his body.
Tables, chairs, bottles — everything in the tavern went flying.
When the dust settled, Ron stared around at the wreckage, dumbfounded.
"Was that internal energy from Heaven Demon Rampage… or Conqueror's Haki?"
The fusion had blurred the two powers together, leaving him unable to tell what had just detonated.
"Still… that name is way too edgy," he sighed.
From the kitchen came the clatter of dishes. Rem and Ram burst out, eyes wide.
"Master, what happened?!"
"Nothing serious. We'll clean up tomorrow — let's eat first."
It was already past seven. Working them late would make him look like a heartless boss.
Rem smiled sweetly. "Yes, Master," she said, tugging her sister back toward the kitchen.
Ron watched them go, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Friends lend you a hand — but Rem and Ram… lend you both.
He flexed his fists experimentally.
Whum—
A soft violet aura shimmered over his skin, radiating raw power. The floor beneath him cracked to dust.
"If I keep testing, I'll blow the whole tavern apart," he muttered. "Guess I'll have to see what it can do in a real fight."
He estimated that, with his current strength, he could easily take down a Vice Admiral — maybe even more.
For someone who was practically a nobody yesterday, that was progress worth drinking to.
He was just about to test his Haki when a delicious scent wafted from the kitchen.
"Master, dinner's ready! Tonight we're having abalone sashimi!" Rem called.
Ron chuckled. "Well, that beats breaking the floor again…"
Morning — Sabaody Archipelago, Area 13.
The tavern wasn't open yet. Rem and Ram were cleaning up last night's disaster when the bell above the door chimed softly.
Ding…
High heels clicked against the floor as long, pale legs stepped through the doorway.
At the same moment, Ron emerged from the back, still rubbing sleep from his eyes.
He glanced at the newcomer — no, at the woman. A Marine officer.
She was stunning — alluring yet dangerous, a rose in full bloom surrounded by thorns. Beautiful enough to stop hearts, but close enough, and you'd bleed for it.
She didn't enter right away. Instead, she scanned the room — sharp, cautious. When her eyes landed on the two twin maids, her brows twitched.
Child labor? In maid outfits? This owner doesn't look very respectable…
Then, she stepped aside, holding the door open.
Through it strode a tall, broad-shouldered man in a pristine Marine coat, his afro immaculate, his cap crowned with a white seagull — the symbol of peace.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku the Buddha, followed closely by Vice Admiral Momousagi (Gion).
Ron blinked, forcing a polite smile. "Welcome… didn't expect you to come deliver the payment personally."
"Ron, right?" Sengoku said amiably, taking a seat at the counter. "Tea Dolphin mentioned your liquor. Thought I'd see for myself."
Momousagi stepped forward silently, setting a metal case on the counter. With a soft click, it opened — neatly stacked rows of Berries gleaming under the light.
"This is the amount you requested," she said coolly.
Then she stepped aside, standing guard like a soldier on duty. Even though Sengoku hardly needed protection, his presence represented the Marine's dignity — and by extension, the face of the World Government.
"You're too kind," Ron said, waving modestly while already pulling the money toward him. "I could've picked it up myself at HQ."
"This is your due," Sengoku replied with an approving nod. His sharp eyes glimmered.
Greedy, a little lecherous — good. Ordinary vices make men predictable.
If he's grounded in human desire, he can be reasoned with — and recruited.
"What'll it be, Fleet Admiral?" Ron asked. "Any preference?"
"Surprise me. I'm not much of a drinker," Sengoku said.
Ron nodded, turned, and retrieved a bottle from his collection — an old, elegant bottle with a simple label.
"Fenjiu," he said, setting it down. "Light-bodied, mellow, and clear. It doesn't attack the tongue — instead, it fills your mouth and nose with a pure, lotus-like aroma. It's like the quiet bloom of a lotus pond at dawn."
He smiled faintly. "If a strong liquor is a painted beauty in crimson lips and perfume, then Fenjiu is a clean, untouched maiden — pure, refined, untouched by dust."
"I imagine someone like you, Fleet Admiral — tempered by decades of justice — might appreciate something that flows slow and deep."
Sengoku's brows rose. The words struck closer than he liked. How could this young man know that?
Had Ron researched him? Planned everything?
Knocking out Tea Dolphin, extorting him — was it all calculated from the start?
If so… this man was terrifying.
But outwardly, Sengoku only smiled. "Let's see if it tastes as good as your poetry."
He filled his glass, raised it, and drank in one go.
The taste hit him instantly — soft but full, rich but not overwhelming. No burn, no bitterness.
It was smooth as silk, layered and clean, the best liquor he'd ever tasted.
While he was still lost in the aftertaste, the door suddenly burst open with a bang.
Rayleigh stormed in, a sack of coins slung over his shoulder, grinning ear to ear.
"Boss!" he roared. "Your wine! It's divine! Last night was a symphony of life and passion!"
The room froze.
Sengoku turned slowly. Their eyes met — the Fleet Admiral and the Dark King.
Silence fell like a hammer.
The tavern went utterly still.
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