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.
Active Objective: "Attend Vinsmoke Diplomatic Stop — Secure Technology Exchange & Medical Aid"
New Objective Unlocked: "Behave Like a Captain, Not a Caper"
MC Status Check:
Name: Vegito
Race: Full-Blooded Saiyan
Age: — (Biological: Prime Adult)
Special: Tail active; Appetite: Colossal
Abilities: Kame Style (Advanced), 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: 38/100
Crew Nodes: 4/10 (Nami, Nojiko, Bell-mère, Reiju)
Current Location: East Blue → Port: Old Capone Town (approach)
Mood: Hungry. Charm engaged. Slightly smug about the sonic contraption's rehearsal.
P.O.V.: Vegito
I woke to the kind of morning that insists on the theatrical. The Embrace tilted like a proud thing at the idea of being admired. The runes along her hull blinked the color of tea before a storm, and the wings folded with the polite rustle of a thing that had been carefully molded to inspire both awe and envy. Reiju was already awake, adjusting the lining of her sleeve near the console like a woman tightening the last bolt on an armor she intended to wear while reading poetry. Bell-mère was in the galley concocting something that smelled sinfully like breakfast and discipline. Nami stood on the helm, map spread like a prayer, orange hair a banner; Nojiko hammered away below deck with the quiet focus of a woman who had learned to fix her hands before they had a chance to tremble.
"Good morning, captain," Reiju said, without ceremony, the corners of her mouth doing that tilt that suggested approval and mischief in equal measures. "Your ship's diplomatic greeting will be more effective if you refrain from shouting."
I bowed, because that was dramatic and my soul liked formalities. "Princess Reiju," I replied with a grin, "does a man not have the right to perform his own fanfare?"
She smirked. "Only those with the right kind of audience. Today, the audience carries titles and is suspicious of improvisation."
Bell-mère barked a laugh that made the galley spoon tremble: "Ha! Practice being charming, boy. Diplomatic visits are mostly polite starving of truth. Feed them enough bread and the bitter pills taste sweeter."
Reiju's laugh was a refined "Ha!"—a chime, precise. Nami's was a guarded "Ufufu" as she glanced at the map and then at me. Nojiko's soft "Ufufu" sounded protective, curling around Reiju's sharper amusement like a quiet shield.
We approached Old Capone Town under a sky that made you honest. The port smelled of ink, lacquer, oil, and a peculiar kind of ambition. Flags fluttered like gossip. Merchant houses lined the docks with faces shaped by ledgers and habit. The Vinsmoke Exploratory Fleet anchored in a way that said they had money, power, and a fondness for orchestration: chrome hulls that sparkled like teeth, barges threaded with polished steel, and a delegation that looked like someone had dressed up the future and sent it to meet the present.
Reiju, who had been practicing her measured disinterest, straightened and then leaned against the rail as if the world were a problem she intended to solve with a scalpel. "They're impressive up close," she said with the interest of a scientist presented with an elegant specimen. "And noisy. My family tends to... enjoy an entrance."
I grinned. "Then we'll be boisterous-but-beneficent. Charm and restraint, like sugar on a lemon."
Nami's fingers tightened on the map. "Remember what I said," she murmured. "Watch the way nobles move. Everything's a ledger for them. People are numbers."
"Then I'll be the kind of man who invests in people," I replied, and the system answered with a polite ping like a parent who'd caught a child seriously attempting poetry.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Diplomacy Module — "Vinsmoke Interaction" activated.
Tip: Social capital increases with useful demonstrations. Avoid flaunting battlefield might; demonstrate utility & benevolence.
Effect: +10% Success on tech exchange if no lethal force is used during negotiation.
We prepared the Embrace like a house that's been refitted for a gala. Reiju handed over a small catalog of Vinsmoke inventions—sterile, bright schematics that smelled faintly of antiseptic and ambition. "I can request a formal inspection," she said, her voice low. "But it will be favorable if we present an invention that addresses civilian work. Show them we improve lives, not just armories."
"Non-lethal devices," I agreed. "We'll show them Reiju's sonic rig as a reason to talk tech—public safety angle. Then perhaps ask for medical stabilizers and a few reinforcement alloys."
Nojiko and Bell-mère sprang into their parts with the sort of efficiency that makes a captain swoon. Nojiko checked bolts and hydraulics, humming an "Ufufu" like a channel being tuned. Bell-mère prepared food not as sustenance but as a statement: stew seasoned with a dozen little memories and a giant ladle of comfort.
We landed like a polite thunder. A dressed contingent from the Vinsmoke fleet waited on the dock—servants, officers, and an array of faces all carefully arranged to yield trust only where it baffled wealth. The Vinsmoke flags snapped with an aristocratic hiss. People stared.
Reiju stepped off first, a picture of composed grace, and the way the fleet commanders turned their heads made my chest swell with a sort of ridiculous pride. She introduced me as "Vegito, owner of Heaven's Embrace," modulating her voice like a woman who knew which syllables deserved attention. The lead envoy—a man with steel-straight hair and the kind of uniform that had been tailored by a taxonomy of precision—bowed with the practiced warmth of a man who wished his bow were observed by a committee of taste-makers.
"Prince Reiju's vessel is... notable," he said, and there was that particular kind of Vinsmoke vowel that suggested he believed in the power of the sentence to patrol his conscience. "We have heard curious reports. A ship—advanced, rumored... unique capabilities."
"Yes," Reiju said, with a small, contained smile. "My personal interest is in developmental uses. I believe your exploratory party might be interested in field tests. Captain Vegito here has allowed me permission to demo some tech."
The envoy's eyes flicked to me like someone appraising a prize pig for thievery. "And you are...?"
"Vegito desu," I said, bowing with a silly flourish that would have made a court painter faint and a theater critic write essays. "Captain of style, smuggler of joy, and a man who prefers people to live to see tomorrow."
He smiled as if evaluating the authenticity of my charm with a protractor. "Very well," he said. "We will tour your vessel and assess collaboration possibilities. We have doctors and engineers onboard who may wish to evaluate anything of mutual interest."
We escorted them aboard. The Embrace took deep breath-like shudders and opened pathways that looked like a mixture of cathedral and laboratory. The Vinsmoke engineers took it in like dogs being shown a new trick: sniffing at materials, tasting the air, making small notes. Reiju guided them with the fierce, efficient patience of a woman showing off the causes she's decided are worthy. The engineers nodded at things only they could see—the density of the runic blends, the seams in alloy, the way the gravity chamber's field projected without spiking external sensors. They murmured with the kind of pleased noises that mean careers might be made.
I gave them what I thought they'd like best: a demonstration not of might but of utility. I took them to the side deck where the sonic disruptor lay in its temporary cradle—Reiju's design with my modifications, a device tuned to confuse fishmen sonar without permanently damaging hearing. I explained, theatrically, the intent, the circuitry, and the moral calculus of "non-lethal defense" while Bell-mère handed out small bowls of something bracing and delicious.
The engineers listened with the nicest kind of greed possible: the hunger for tools that made fields livable. The head doctor—an older woman with eyes like polished copper and a face used to tough decisions—watched the sonic rig's specs, then looked at me. "If this works as you say, it would be invaluable for coastal villages," she said. "It avoids fatalities while protecting property. Many governments might fund such research."
I smiled like a man who'd just found a button and couldn't wait to press it. "Exactly. We prefer hearts unbroken and nets intact."
Reiju translated technical terms and used language that rolled like polished machinery. "We would be open to a limited field test," she said, "in exchange for medical supplies—portable soil-suture units, stabilization torques, and a small allotment of reinforcement alloys for hull patches. Additionally, we request non-lethal crowd-control modules in a workable prototype."
The envoy consulted the Vinsmoke delegation like someone seeking a verdict. There was a long, careful stretch of murmurs. Then the head commander smiled with the kind of mildty frightening grin only nobles keep. "A demonstration will be permitted," he said. "If your device passes controlled testing, we will provide limited supplies and a formal escort for a portion of your route. Reiju, your involvement will be noted."
Reiju's smile was a small, satisfied arch. "Perfect."
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Diplomacy Result — Negotiation Successful (Partial).
Reward: Medical Aid Package (Pending Demonstration)
Bonding Pulse: +6 (Reiju & Ship)
Caveat: Public attention increased. Bounty risk: +3%.
Hearing "escort" made my tail flick with a cunning of its own. Public attention meant risk, yes; but it also meant access and influence in a world that responded to presence as thunder responds to gods. I was not blind to the danger. I had trained for this: for the balance of spectacle and discretion. We had agreed to a public demonstration on the morrow at a shallow bay the Vinsmoke fleet had cordoned like the stage of an opera.
That night, Old Capone Town hummed with whispers. Nobles whispered into cigarettes; merchants tried to balance deals for quick profit; bounty hunters whispered of a "mysterious ship" that looked like a goddess had been fitted for war. A small crowd gathered near the docks; my face had already achieved the kind of myth that makes rumor profitable. Reiju watched the flow of eyes with the clinical calm of someone who files people like receipts.
"Be careful," she said quietly as we prepared our gear. "They will praise you if you impress them and record everything. Never give more than you must. Nobility remembers grace and weakness only when it suits them."
"I will be the most charming empiricist you've ever seen," I said, puffing my chest for a moment and then succumbing to the practical tug of hunger. "But if a man aims a sword at my crew, he'll find I am less charming and more regrettable."
Her laugh—sharp, delighted—cut a bright line: "Ha!"
P.O.V.: Vegito
The controlled demo was a thing of elegant choreography. We sailed to the bay in measured procession, the Vinsmoke men arranged like a chorus of judges. The device sat like an unassuming instrument, wires neat as a hairline fracture. Reiju conducted the test with the precision of a surgeon who also enjoyed making small theatrical motions, and I supplied the narrative: what the device would do to a sonar-guided predator and how it could protect fishermen without killing.
I activated the disruptor with a hideous flourish that was entirely unnecessary—old habits die hard. The sound it made was a barely audible hum to human ears, but with the right frequency it turned a feeling like the ocean had become a lover teasing its prey. Fishmen—trained in darkness and sound—flitted in the outer recessed waters, drawing closer like animals at a scent. The contraption sang.
The results were near immediate. Fishman scouts shifted, lost coordination, and then, like a flock whose shepherd had been dozing, they scattered toward deeper currents. They were disoriented rather than harmed. The Vinsmoke technicians took readings, nodded vigorously, and made small notations with the kind of fervor one saves for the practical details of history.
The naval commander whispered, "This is a responsible technology."
The head doctor leaned forward. "With proper filters and fail-safes, this could be deployed widely to protect coastal communities."
Applause is a small thing, but it echoes. The Vinsmoke envoy gave my hand a formal shake that suggested a currency exchange of reputations. "Your captaincy demonstrates… an admirable restraint," he said. "We shall honor our part of the promise contingent on controlled trials and a formal agreement."
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Diplomacy Result — Successful Demonstration.
Reward Unlocked: Medical Aid Package — (Immediate: Stabilizers x2; Portable Med-Kit x3; Reinforcement Alloys: Small Crate)
Reward: Vinsmoke Attention (Network) — Access: +1 (Reiju link)
Note: Public attention spike. Maintain discretion to avoid bounty inflation.
The supplies were modest but meaningful. The ship's infirmary—previously a European-standard bookshelf of bandages and hope—widened into something approaching a stabilizing clinic. Reiju's presence made the Vinsmoke engineers kinder in certain regards; they lent us prototypes and a manual that smelled faintly of antiseptic and precision. Nami watched the crates with a rare, near-giddy focus. She touched the med-kits like someone who'd always wanted a safety that didn't require wondering.
"You will publish nothing about this without consent," the envoy intoned, as if reminding us that favors come with strings wrapped in pomo attitudes. "And Captain—" he looked at me, "—your vessel and crew are, shall we say, of interest to certain branches. Keep a low profile when possible."
"Yes, yes," I replied with a grin that had teeth. "Profile low. But spirits high."
Reiju's eyes flicked to me with that tilt; it was not quite approval and not quite a promise to use me as a research subject later. "We'll draft terms," she said. "Sensitivity to publicity will be prioritized."
That night, as the Vinsmoke delegation prepared to leave with a collection of notes and a polite bundle of admiration, something happened I'd not entirely expected: attention blossomed into an invitation. The head envoy phoned in a favor—an escort through particularly watched waters for a week in exchange for a few more field trials and careful recording of results. It was generous in a way that made me both proud and mildly alarmed.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: New Opportunity — "Vinsmoke Escort" available (Short-Term).
Benefit: Reduced piracy chance in trade lanes (+20% protection for 5 days).
Caveat: Escort increases profile; bounty risk: +5% for duration.
I felt the runes along the Embrace hum like a heart approving of one of its own decisions. Reiju's smile was a thin, calculating crescent. "Careful, Vegito," she said. "This improves our delivery capabilities but paints a faint target on the hull."
"I like being noticed," I said, honestly. "Because when people notice you, they trust you. And when they trust you, you can do more good. That's the philosophy."
Her laugh was bright and approving: "Ha!" She stepped closer then, voice lowered. "And on a purely personal matter, you were very good with the demonstration. Not raw bravado; efficient."
I twitched, because praise from Reiju felt like someone winning a technical prize with a ribbon stitched of curiosity and warmth. "Thanks," I said. "Compliment noted and filed under 'inflating ego.'"
Nami watched all of this with a complicated smile. The med-kits made her think in new directions—charts not for raids but for safety routes. Nojiko's fingers brushed the reinforcement alloys like a woman feeling possibility. Bell-mère hummed and cooked like a prophet who'd just been given a chance to feed a god.
The Vinsmoke fleet left at sunfall with a goodbye that smelled like varnished brass. They promised formal exchange memoranda would follow, and they left in a formation that suggested money could travel in a polite formation if the world demanded it.
We sailed out with a crate of alloys strapped to the hold and an armory of medicals that felt like an answering of a long, private prayer. The dinner that night was loud: Reiju toasted with a small glass of something that tasted like victory and research notes. Bell-mère declared the stew a success and demanded seconds as a right. Nojiko repaired an old winch and laughed when the thing cooperated, a soft "Ufufu." Nami sat at the map table and traced escape lines and safety zones like a woman who had found a new reason to be patient with the sea.
I sat back and made a speech that was half showmanship, half vow. "Tomorrow," I said, raising my spoon like a scepter, "we will travel with an escort. We will test the sonic devices in the larger field. We will teach villagers how to repair and mount them. And we will keep what matters alive."
"Ha!" Reiju laughed—bright and delighted. The Embrace's hull hummed like a cat pleased with company.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Bonding Update: +10 (Ship & Vinsmoke Link Established).
Progress: Crew Nodes: 4/10.
Secondary Objective: Teach coastal fortification with prototype devices.
P.O.V.: Vegito
The next morning, the Vinsmoke escort trailed us like a polished shadow. It was reassuring and a little showy. The presence reduced petty pirates but increased the number of people in the know. Word spread in ways phone birds never could: gossipers on docks, merchants with inked ears, and a few hungry bounty hunters who liked a challenge with a promise of gold. Reiju was diplomatic; I was theatrical. Nami charted our path and requested one unsavory detour: a small coastal hamlet she'd marked as vulnerable. There we chose to test more than a device—we chose to plant something like courage.
We anchored near a jagged little cove where fishermen lined the rocks like a necklace of worn coins. They were suspicious of everything. When Reiju showed the med-kits and made the Vinsmoke engineers talk gently about protective gear rather than profit, their faces melted like butter on hot steel. We taught them how to sew nets to reinforce the disruptor mounts. Nojiko taught basic hull patching. Bell-mère fed the men and the women until even the eldest laughed in a way that sounded less like disbelief and more like the beginning of hope.
A boy—no more than thirteen but with eyes older than his years—asked if we could leave him something to remember that the world wasn't entirely cruel.
I handed him a spare compass. "Keep it honest," I said. "Don't let it point you to resentment."
He laughed then, a high, unpracticed sound, and the village rang like silver.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Side Quest Completed — "Fortify Coastal Hamlet."
Reward: Bonding Pulse +10 (Village)
Note: Reputation increased in local networks.
It felt good. Sweet, like a syrup on a crust of bread. The Vinsmoke engineers recorded data and nodded at Reiju with new respect. The head doctor sat beside Bell-mère and spoke of longer-term clinics and the possibility of a traveling med-team. Reiju listened like someone collecting essential truths.
On the way back to the escort route, the sky twisted into a bruise. A single sail appeared on the horizon—small, fast, and with a flag that read "Bounty Hunters." Someone in the tavern at Old Capone Town had remembered that our ship might be valuable. News and money move like ash in wind; they spark things intent on fire.
I felt the shift in the ship's runes like a human hearing a bad joke. The hanger of adrenaline pulled at my shoulders. The escort made a small movement; the Vinsmoke men readied, polite hands on polite weapons.
"Do we fight?" Nami asked, fingers on the rail, voice small and steady.
"We scare," I said. "We do not slaughter. We show the world that living is preferable to dying."
The bounty hunter ship came in fast, and the man who disembarked had the look of someone who's traded half his empathy for a ledger. He wanted glory and coin. He misjudged us.
Reiju and I moved in a pre-arranged duet. She flicked the sonic rig to a moderate output and I opened the gravity field like a polite hand that could push water backward. The hunter staggered before he'd meant to. His crew cursed like men who had misread weather and morality. They retreated with their pride sprained and their pocket-lists empty.
Villagers clapped from the shoreline, and our escorts tipped hats with something like approval. We had shown strength without blood. Reiju's smile afterwards was small and dark and absolutely satisfying.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Combat Avoidance — Success.
Reward: Bonding Pulse +8 (Ship & Escort)
Note: Non-lethal response preserved reputation; bounty interest reduced slightly with demonstration of restraint.
That night the ship shone like an anecdote. Reiju and I walked the deck beneath a sky thick with stars. Her hand brushed mine as if by accident. "You used restraint," she said simply. "Not many would."
"I learned the hard way that permanent solutions to temporary problems make disasters permanent," I replied. "And I like my crew alive and my conscience less heavy."
She laughed then—sharp, delighted: "Ha!"—and it settled into a small, shared warmth between two people who had both learned that power needs fences. We watched the Embrace's figurehead catch moonlight and the runes write patterns like promises.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Daily Summary Saved.
Achievements: Vinsmoke Demonstration Completed; Medical Aid Secured; Coastal Hamlet Fortified.
Resources Gained: Medical Kits x3; Stabilizers x2; Reinforcement Alloys (Crate).
New Objective Unlocked: "Solidify Vinsmoke Memorandum — Draft Terms & Maintain Discretion"
Hint: Keep Nami's trust high; she values privacy and safety. Reiju's influence is valuable but increases profile.
I lay on my back on the deck and listened to the ship purr like a cat who had been fed a very particular feast. It dawned on me then—fuller than anything else—that the life I wanted to build would always balance on the edge between attention and anonymity. The trick was to take what I needed and give back more than I'd promised. With Reiju's tech, Bell-mère's spoons, Nojiko's hands, and Nami's maps, perhaps we could do that. Perhaps we could be loud in the right places and whisper in others.
My tail curled around the rail like punctuation to a sentence I'd only just begun to write. The Embrace hummed. The system went quiet long enough for me to hear my heartbeat.
Tomorrow we would sign papers. Tomorrow we'd teach more. Tomorrow we'd inch toward the kind of power that could carve a new life for people who had been taught not to hope. And if the world chose to look, we would look back with a grin and a plan.
P.O.V.: Vegito — End of Day
My chest felt heavy in the best ways: promise, responsibility, and a delicious hunger for food and future conquests of the softer sort—laughter, loyalty, and inevitable flirtations which I would pursue like a gentleman with a glint in his eye. I promised myself a simple thing before sleep: to keep my crew safe, my grin sincere, and my harem—if it must be built—a cathedral of consent and affection, not a cage. That would be hard, and that would be worth any battles my fists would not have to do.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Tomorrow's Goal: Draft Vinsmoke Terms & Secure Escort Period. Secondary: Teach advanced Haki drills to Nami & Nojiko (Sanctum session scheduled).
Buff Applied: "Captain's Favor" (Active) — +10% Recruitment Charm (Duration: 47 hours).
End of Chapter 5