"Is that necessary?"
Dimon watched Shiki's reaction with open skepticism. He studied Shakky. She was undeniably beautiful, but not to the point of hysteria.
He could only conclude that Shiki was a fool.
The Rocks crew was full of fools. Whitebeard was slightly better, but only slightly. He was a discreet fool. The rest advertised it.
"Hello. I am Dimon."
Shakky's smile was soft and sweet. It did not quite match the cool, sardonic air she would have in her sixties. Younger, she seemed gentler.
"I have heard of you. The new brewer of the Rocks Pirates, Dimon. First bounty at five hundred million berries."
Dimon had no interest in debating his bounty. "So what brings you to my little bar."
"Rocks and the others told me yesterday that you serve a special elixir here. Drink it and you gain ageless life."
Curiosity burned in her eyes. She had doubted it at first, but after Kaido's demonstration she could hardly deny it.
Dimon could not help glancing at Shiki.
"Listen, Dimon." Shiki gave a dry laugh. "We were at Shakky's place last night. People drank too much and spilled it. Pure accident."
Dimon did not believe that for a second. He was a man too. He knew how men boasted in front of a beauty, and how boasting leaked secrets.
"It is fine. I was not hiding it," Dimon said with a shrug. "If you want the Wine of Immortality, Miss Shakky, bring a Devil Fruit."
Shakky blinked. "If it works, the price is fair. May I try a sip first."
"No."
Dimon refused without a heartbeat's hesitation.
She pressed her lips together, exasperated. "Could you be flexible."
Even her looks did not sway him.
"No."
"All right."
She sighed.
Shiki instantly switched to gallant mode. "Do not be stingy, Dimon. If Shakky wants a drink, pour one. I will fetch you a Devil Fruit later."
Dimon gave him a withering look. "No. Rules are rules. Unless you want to hand her your cup."
"Never." Shiki's head snapped left and right, sobriety returning at once.
"The batch will be ready tonight," Dimon said, smiling. "Tell Rocks. I will deliver to them this evening."
"Truly."
Immortality trumped beauty in an instant. Shiki's eyes lit. "Hahahaha. I will tell Rocks. We will wait at the Skull Grand Hotel."
He shot out the door and into the sky.
The Skull Grand Hotel was the giant ocher skull at the center of Beehive Island, its cavernous interior carved into a hostel. Most of the Rocks Pirates slept there.
Dimon disliked the place. Too noisy. He preferred the quiet second floor above the Immortality Bar.
As soon as Shiki left, Dimon turned to Shakky. "Anything else."
"No. And I am sorry for asking too much earlier." She winked. "My bar is three streets west. You are welcome any time."
With that, she sauntered out.
Everything about that woman radiated charm, and her manners did not hurt. No wonder she was adored.
Dimon watched her go, returned behind the counter, and picked up a stack of wanted posters, turning them one by one.
They were all local pirates, bounties high and low. Rocks topped the list of course. The smallest was a ten million minnow.
Half an hour slipped by as he read. Arisa Ōseya arrived for work.
"Lord Dimon, I am sorry. I am late today."
"You do not need to come every day. There is rarely anyone here."
"Oh."
She drooped like a dejected rabbit and took up a broom to sweep dust that probably did not exist.
"Just bring lunch and dinner on the regular," Dimon said after a moment.
Breakfast he rarely bothered with.
"Yes, Lord Dimon." Energy returned to her at once.
"Oh, and I have a job for you."
He pulled a poster from the stack and handed it over. "Give this to Rocks. Have them catch this man and lock him in the cellar."
"Grandpa Roku."
Arisa took the poster and read carefully.
Monjirō the AmputeeExecutive of the Hell PiratesExtremely dangerousDead or aliveBounty: 55,000,000 berries
"Did this pirate offend you," she asked, curious now that she had learned Dimon was easy to speak to.
Dimon rapped her lightly on the forehead. "No questions. Go."
"Yes."
When the princess left, the bar fell quiet again.
He was not idling these days, lazing away every hour at the counter. He had gathered most of the island's wanted posters.
His purpose was simple. To devour them.
The faith guard he relied on numbered only twelve and they were not strong, so his first target could not be either. A fifty five million berried thug was perfect for a test run.
"First I will test the devil's devouring power and see exactly what it does."
Night, a little past seven.
The same basement where the demon had been summoned.
In the center of the pentagram circle, Monjirō the Amputee was trussed tight, a rag jammed in his mouth to smother his screams.
Kuro knelt before Dimon and reported with respect, "Lord Dimon. The man is secured."
"Were you seen."
"No. We were careful. On this island pirates die or vanish every day. No one will notice."
"Good. You can go."
Dimon waved them off, then walked to Monjirō and pulled the rag from his mouth.
"You are the new one in the Rocks crew. The five hundred million brewer," Monjirō babbled, terror wide in his eyes. "Why did you grab me. I never crossed you."
"What do pirates talk about except enemies and debts."
Dimon lifted his hand. Black lightning flickered and a bottle of the Wine of Immortality appeared in his palm.
He filled a cup with the red liquid and held it to Monjirō's lips.
"Drink. Most people never get the chance. One cup for a Devil Fruit."
"What," Monjirō croaked and shook his head so hard the chair creaked. He did not know what it was, but he knew not to drink it.
Dimon pinched his jaw and poured it down his throat.
Before the man could gather himself to fight, Dimon set his right hand on Monjirō's brow.
"Devour."
He spoke the word softly.
Monjirō began to twist. His body crumbled like ash and streamed into Dimon's hand grain by grain.
The pirate's eyes bulged with raw, animal fear. He tried to live. The ropes held. There was nothing he could do.
When it ended there was nothing left. Not even clothes.
As if he had never existed.
Dimon exhaled and closed his eyes, digesting the flood of memories and skill.
Monjirō's combat habits. His seamanship. His route from West Blue to Beehive. All of it sank into Dimon and became his.
"So that is the devil's devouring power."
He opened his eyes, calm as before.
One pirate erased without a trace. All of it converted to fuel.
He clenched his fist and nodded to himself. "The gains are clear. No real side effects. I just need a little time to digest."