SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Daily Login Complete.
Daily Bonus: "Captain's Favor" (Consumable)
Effect: +10% Recruitment Charm (Duration: 48 hours)
Quest Update: Crew Node Count: 4/10 → Primary Objective: Expand crew to 6.
New Objective Unlocked: "Teach & Protect — Establish Trust Through Strength"
MC Status Check:
Name: Vegito
Race: Full-Blooded Saiyan
Age: — (Biological: Prime Adult)
Special: Tail active; Appetite: Colossal
Abilities: Kame Style (Intermediate), Advanced Haki Conditioning (Practiced), Gravity Manipulation (Adept), Marine Six Styles (Observer)
Inventory: Compasses x2 ("True" gifted), Spices (Bell-mère's delight), Capsule — Gravity Chamber Accessory
Ship Bonding Level: 30/100
Crew Nodes: 4/10 (Nami, Nojiko, Bell-mère, Reiju)
Current Location: East Blue — patrolling waters near Cocoyashi Village
Mood: Hungry. Playful. Slightly possessive of my ship's good reputation.
P.O.V.: Vegito
Morning had a way of announcing itself with a chorus of gulls and the smell of yesterday's stew lingering in delightful denial. I woke to the Embrace humming beneath me, her runes glowing like contented eyes. The deck was already a small theater of domestic chaos: Nojiko had claimed the tool chest as a makeshift breakfast table and was sorting rope like a woman untangling a memory; Bell-mère argued with the galley about whether salt or sugar made a better crust for fish; Nami sat cross-legged with a paper map and a pen like a pupil with a weapon; and Reiju—Reiju had somehow arranged the ship's maintenance logs in perfect, tiny columns and was sipping something that smelled suspiciously of engineered tea.
"Good morning, captain," she said without looking up, the corners of her mouth doing that thing that suggested a smile and a plan at the same time. Her hair caught the sun like a pink flag.
"Bell-mère Vegito," I replied, squatting to pull my boots on with the practiced laziness of a man who'd done enough training to be efficient but not enough to stop being theatrical. "Reiju, your tea is suspiciously civilized. Are you trying to upgrade my galley or seduce my engines?"
She glanced up, eyes amused. "A mix. Properly seasoned engines last longer, and people who are fed well don't mutiny."
Bell-mère barked a laugh at that. "Ha! Finally a man with taste. Make sure you don't waste her on oily biscuits, boy."
I grinned and bowed, because even a man destined for ridiculous things like pirate kingship should know the appropriate moment to bow. The crew laughed—Nojiko's sound a little uncertain, Nami's low and practical. We had the kind of breakfast where food could soothe suspicion and spice could season trust. It was working. The system chimed like a pleased aunt.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Morale Buff Applied — "Night of Companions" consumed.
Effect: +5 Morale to all crew (Duration: 48 hours)
Progress: Boarding Operations — Standing by.
Our immediate objective was simple: return to Cocoyashi, fortify the village against the shadow of Arlong's memory, and use the Embrace as a visible deterrent. Nami was cautious about any heavy presence—she worried the sight of a ship full of strangers might draw the wrong sort of curiosity—but Bell-mère argued that sometimes you needed to show teeth before you could show kindness.
Nami's map was precise and jittery. She pointed out points where the shoreline made coves that would make good harbors for raiders. "They like shallow anchors," she said, fingers tracing the waterline. "If you show force where they expect none, they pick easier targets."
"Learned that the hard way," Nojiko muttered, eyes clouding for a second. "Arlong's men liked easy a lot."
"Then we'll be less easy," I said, voice thick with a seriousness that matched the gravity of the runes beneath my feet. "We are not here to provoke. We're here to protect. We'll sleep in shifts and teach the villagers to move quietly. I'll show them how to use the gravity chamber. Reiju, any ideas for non-lethal deterrents?"
She smiled that thin, useful smile. "A localized sonic disruptor can disorient fishmen without damaging rock or bone. It requires a power condenser, but I can rig something with the spare engine coils." She tapped a planning board. "It won't kill, but it will confuse and scatter. People will see a machine and assume more unpredictable power."
I rubbed my chin with theatrical thoughtfulness. "A machine that sings the pirates away. I love the poetry of that. Build it. And teach the villagers to run and hide like their lives matter more than anyone's pride."
We arrived at Cocoyashi to a reception that was part suspicion, part hunger, and part the kind of joy that leaks out when a storm ends and someone hands you a warm loaf. The children clung to my legs like small buccaneers claiming treasure. The adults watched from doorways, eyes measuring and then re-measuring us as if to check whether we were still human after all we'd done.
Bell-mère took charge with the plain authority of someone who knew how to marshal hands and hearts. "We distribute food first," she ordered. "Then we fix roofs. Then we teach people to listen to the sea."
I moved through the village like a man moving through a family, because that's what it felt like—the nervous edges of a family that had been bruised into carefulness. I gave the baker a sack of spices, and he looked as if he'd been given gold. I gave the fishermen a set of reinforced nets and a demonstration on quick release knots. Children followed me for most of the day, which is a test any future king ought to pass with honors.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Side Quest — "Fortify Cocoyashi"
Objective: Improve village defenses and community trust.
Reward: Bonding Pulse (Village) +10 on completion.
At the center of the repair effort, I set up the Embrace Sanctum's portable console and showed a small circle of men and women the basics of Haki observation in language simple as bread. Reiju and Nojiko handled the more technical workshops—Reiju teaching small mechanical tricks to keep water out of hull seams and Nojiko demonstrating the basics of field repairs.
Nojiko surprised me at every turn. She had the hands of someone who had learned to survive by mending what broke. When she laughed—ufufu, that soft sound—there was a hint of relief like warm rain after drought. She moved through these tasks like a woman reconquering small pieces of herself.
Nami watched us work with a map folded into her lap and a face that had learned to be skittish again. I took a moment, privately, to help her trace escape lines across a new chart. I kept the conversation light, only probing when I felt like she might bloom. Humor is a slow tenderizer.
"You're a terrible liar," she said at one point, head tilted, and my grin flared because some traps are adorable and impossible not to spring. "You dress like a bard and fight like a teacher."
"That's the best of both worlds," I said, and she made a sound that was half amusement, half disdain — a laugh perfectly distilled: "Ha!"
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Bonding Check — Nami's Suspicion: Reduced by 6%.
Progress: Fortification Workshops — 45% complete.
Three days in, and the village began to look less scared. Children played near repaired docks. Fishermen smiled instead of trembling. The Embrace anchored close enough that people could see the runes carved along her hull and breathe easier for reasons they couldn't define. Machines and laughter spread like a good tide.
But the sea keeps secrets, and the world has a habit of retaliating when you shift its balance. On the third night, as the moon was a sliver and the sea was a black silk, a shadow moved across the horizon that smelled of oil and bad intent. Lanterns bobbed like malevolent stars. The fishman banners were there—slightly ragged, aggressive, and familiar enough to make Bell-mère's hand tighten on my arm.
"Arlong's men," she said without fear but with enough memory to freeze the world for a second. Her laugh then was not happy — "Ha—" — but it was a sound that carried a warning.
We had options. We could leave and chase them away with the force of a ship they couldn't match; that might drag more attention to the village and prove unpredictable. We could fight them at sea and risk lives. Or we could show enough calculated resistance to be worth passing on.
"No slaughter," I told the crew. "Not tonight. We show them machinery they can't easily explain, we defend what must be defended, and we leave them with a story that makes them think twice before returning."
Reiju and I took the Embrace's side deck, where she had installed a temporary sonic disruptor rigged to the auxiliary engines. The device hummed in a way that suggested a machine content to be clever. I could feel Reiju's hands on the controls—sure, precise, the way one touches a beloved instrument.
"On my mark," she whispered. "We don't want to fry ears, just disorient. Fishmen rely on sonar to track prey in murky waters—confuse the waters and they stagger."
I grinned like someone about to perform a particularly theatrical stunt. "And we'll make them think the sea is laughing at them."
The approach was cautious. The fishmen ship, painted in brine and arrogance, came close enough for us to see fresh teeth and cheap blades glinting. The captain—some rough, tonal man with a presence as unpleasant as algae—shouted for tribute and tried to make a show. His crew laughed when our crew came aboard with nothing but tools and spice sacks.
We let them talk themselves into position. Then Reiju flicked her wrist and the disruptor sang.
It wasn't loud to human ears. To fishmen, accustomed to navigating the dark by sound, it was a private hurricane. Men staggered, then clutched their heads. Fishmen glanced around confused; their sonar lines buckled like poor rope. The effect was terrifyingly elegant. In the chaos, Bell-mère and Nojiko launched smoke and flash charges that we'd rehearsed earlier with the villagers. The pirates flailed, disoriented, and in the confusion one man tried to climb our gangplank with a boldly drawn blade.
He didn't get further than his first step. Gravity shifted like a finger on a teetering scale. I drew Kame energy into my palms with the practiced ease of a man who'd spent two years learning to love his power like a pet. The blast I sent wasn't meant to kill. It shoved him gently but emphatically into the water, where his crew pulled him back, cursing and wet and thoroughly humiliated.
From the shore, villagers who had clutched their children watched and then—slowly—applauded. The fishmen retreated, more confused than defeated, their captain swearing as they pulled away. Their banners slipped in the dark, and we could hear them curse in a language that carried about as much dignity as a wet boot.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Combat Summary — Engagement: Fishman Raider Skirmish.
Result: Disoriented & Repelled.
Reward: Bonding Pulse +8 (Village)
Note: Non-lethal tactics successfully preserved property and lives. Reputation increased among locals.
After the retreat, the village erupted into a cautious joy. They came to the Embrace not to loot or gawk but to thank us with hands that offered bread and small, nervy smiles. Nami came up to the deck, standing in the moonlight where the runes painted her skin with faint blue maps.
"You didn't have to be gentle," she said, quietly, meeting my eyes. Her laugh then was a soft, surprised "Ufufu," like someone who had been given more than they expected from a stranger.
"I didn't want anyone to suffer more," I said. "You gave us permission to help. I honored that."
She looked at me, measuring me—a dangerous but necessary business when someone trusts you with parts of themselves. "You could have killed them," she said. "Why didn't you?"
"Because killing is a permanent answer to a temporary problem," I replied. "And because I like my crew alive and my conscience cleaner than that."
She laughed then, full, sharp, and astonished all at once. "Ha!" It made my chest warm in a way that had nothing to do with adrenaline.
We spent the next morning repairing what damage the fishmen had left and teaching people to build small alarms and barriers. Reiju's technical devices were in high demand—she taught young men how to maintain the sonic rig and how to jury-rig parts from fishing gear. Nojiko instructed teams on quick hull repairs and ropework that could be used as trip restraints. Bell-mère organized patrols and meals with the pragmatic kindness of a woman who had chosen to be a parent to a world that needed one.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Village Fortification Complete.
Reward: Bonding Pulse +12 (Village)
Achievement Unlocked: "Hearts Shelter" — Reputation: Cocoyashi Village trusts Heaven's Embrace.
In the evenings, the Embrace felt dense with new music. Children sang nonsense songs and tugged at my sleeves for stories about the island where I'd trained. Reiju would sing sometimes—a surprising, clear soprano with a hint of mechanical rhythm—and the sound wrapped the ship like a soft halo. Bell-mère hummed work-songs while she chopped vegetables, and Nojiko's laughs—ufufu—began to sound less afraid and more like something that belonged to her again.
I kept my flirtation light and careful. Reiju watched me with a look like one keeps for instruments one is learning to play—curious, critical, and sometimes indulgent. I teased her about her obsessive alignment of bolts; she returned insults about my dramatic tendencies with a clinical, affectionate severity that made my tail twitch.
"You're reckless," she told me one night, leaning against the sanctum door. "You pick fights for amusement."
"I'm professional," I corrected, puffing my chest. "Amusement with a plan."
She arched an eyebrow. "Your plan courts death as a partner."
"She accepts," I said, and she laughed—a clean, delighted "Ha!" that made the runes pulse brighter.
There were quieter moments, too. Nojiko placed her hand on my arm once when I was checking the gravity calibrations and said, without much ceremony, "If I break anything, you won't throw me away."
I looked at her—at the scar on her wrist she'd always tried not to show—and felt a thread tug in me. "I won't," I said. "And if you break, I'll help fix. If you mend, you teach."
She laughed then, the gentle little "Ufufu" of someone who had had a small victory.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Bonding Update: Crew Nodes: 4/10 → Internal Bonding +18 (Village & Crew)
Progress: Recruitment Objective — Increase to 6 nodes.
Hint: Secondary recruitment sources: neighboring islands, port nobles, minks, and medical aid requests.
It pleased the system that I was building not by plunder but by patching, not by domination but by offering. I liked pleasing the system. It pinged often, like a friend who approved of my appetite and my choice in women.
A week after the skirmish, a newsbird arrived on a route that made my heart go an odd loop. Its paper was a small, wrinkled thing with a headline that sniffed at the edges of political sugar: "Vinsmoke Exploratory Fleet to Visit East Blue — Princess Reiju Among Delegation." The bird chirped its usual gossip and plucked away, leaving us with a small feather and a bigger problem.
Reiju read it and then, quietly, said, "My family will take note."
The name Vinsmoke carries details like a knife bears nicks—a history of politics, the smell of industry, and a tendency for very public attention. She stepped away from the paper like a woman who had learned to walk through storms.
"You must be careful," Nojiko said softly.
"I will be," Reiju replied. "They will be curious about the Embrace. But curiosity is an instrument. We may use it to gather more allies."
I grinned at her like a man who'd been handed a new toy. "So, princess, will your house make us some friends? Or will they grumble like rich men at a melon?"
She smirked. "Both, perhaps. Influence isn't always kind. But I can ask for a small favor: I want to test some equipment in exchange for a formal escort."
"Escort sounds… boring," I admitted. "But useful. We'll accept. And I'll be excellent at pretending to be a proper captain."
Reiju laughed then—sharp and bright: "Ha!"—and I felt the kind of warm thrill that comes from knowing a flirtation has landed and possibly begun. The system chimed a happy, dutiful tone and noted potential fallout.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Recruitment Opportunity — Vinsmoke Connection (Reiju).
Potential Bond: Reiju (Vinsmoke) — Deep. Access to technology and medical support probable.
Caveat: Nobility increases attention and bounty risk. Maintain discretion.
We had bought Cocoyashi a breathing spell and, in the process, taught people how to make their own lungs a little stronger. The Embrace sat on the horizon like a promise, her runes flickering in a kind of satisfied rhythm. The crew slept with less tension in their chests, and I slept with a foolish grin on my face. A new alliance hovered in the water like a possible storm—but one that might, if handled with care, bring rain.
Tomorrow we would travel to a nearby port where Reiju's fleet planned to stop. I intended to be charming, careful, and outrageously polite. I intended to keep my crew safe. And I intended, selfishly, to see how Reiju wore her family's armor in public.
Outside, the sea muttered its steady verse, and the Embrace hummed like a beast content with the taste of many hands. I rolled onto my back, looked at the stars reflected in the ocean, and promised myself one more thing: that any harem I collected would be made of people who stayed with me because they wanted to, not because they couldn't leave. That promise, I suspected, would be harder to keep than any gravity chamber set to x100.
I fell asleep to the sound of people who had once been afraid learning how to laugh properly again. The system logged the day's activities with a satisfied ding and then, like a friend tucking you in, turned off its light.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Daily Summary Saved.
Achievements: Cocoyashi Fortified; Fishman Raiders Repelled; Reiju Bonding Initiated.
New Objective Unlocked: "Attend Vinsmoke Diplomatic Stop — Secure Technology Exchange & Medical Aid."
Hint: Keep Nami's trust high; her navigation node is key for future expansions.
End of Chapter 4