After putting the swords away, White Ghost turned his attention to the boxes Mjosgard had left.
Everyone else did too.
They all knew there was nothing ordinary in there.
He glanced at Gaji and Gion.
Neither looked the least bit embarrassed to be here.
Gion hugged his arm with both hands.
"What, you're even guarding against me now?" she said, half pouting.
Nobody else reacted much. Gion had been over many times, and anyone with eyes could see she was interested in White Ghost.
White Ghost closed his eyes briefly.
Then opened them and looked at Gaji.
"You saw it yourself—I didn't do anything," he said flatly. "So when I don't duel you later, don't get mad at me."
Gaji shook his head vigorously.
"No, this is definitely your fault. Gion can never be wrong."
White Ghost didn't bother replying to this terminal simp.
He just flicked his right hand.
Of the nine boxes Mjosgard had delivered, three flew through the air and landed softly on the table.
"I wonder what kind of special Devil Fruits these are, hmm, little White," Gion whispered into his ear.
Her breath brushed his earlobe. The dragon blood in him roared, and he could feel his temper and instincts rising.
"Enough," he muttered under his breath. "You just want to shake off Gaji. Don't push it."
"How do you know that's all I want?" she replied sweetly. "Maybe I also want to—"
She snuggled closer, pressing his arm firmly between two extremely distracting soft weights.
"I have work to do," White Ghost ground out, forcing himself to focus.
"You do your work," Gion said, perfectly content to rest her head on his shoulder, ignoring Gaji's ashen face.
White Ghost took a deep breath, forcibly suppressed the blaze in his veins, and opened the first box—completely ignoring Gaji's expression as his face turned the color of pig liver.
Inside lay a strange, patterned fruit.
"Zoan-type, Ryū Ryū no Mi, Ancient Model – Pteranodon," White Ghost read.
"Good stuff," Gaji whistled. "Another flying Zoan, and an Ancient Model at that. Better than what you traded to the Fleet Admiral."
Everyone nodded.
Flying Zoans were already valuable—an ancient flying one was top-tier.
White Ghost opened the second box.
"Zoan-type, Mushi Mushi no Mi, Ancient Model – Meganeura Dragonfly."
Third box:
"Zoan-type, Ryū Ryū no Mi, Ancient Model – Microraptor. A small raptor that evolved wing-like structures and could glide."
"Three flying Ancient Zoans," Gaji said, eyes shining. "White Ghost, you hit the jackpot. Looks like if you don't use some good stuff to shut me up, the Fleet Admiral's hearing everything tomorrow."
He laughed sleazily.
White Ghost rolled his eyes, putting the three fruits away. Then he took out some excellent wine and expensive cigars, laying them on the table.
"These enough to plug that mouth of yours?"
"More than enough," Gaji said, already reaching for a cigar. He took a puff and nearly moaned. "North Blue noble special reserve… Didn't know you could get your hands on these…"
White Ghost ignored him.
He knew the truth: whatever Sengoku needed to know would reach him anyway. Gion and Gaji were both the type who'd give their lives for Marine "Justice."
This was just his way of choosing how the news reached them.
He cracked open the next three boxes.
"Paramecia-type, Silver-Silver Fruit."
"Paramecia-type, Warp-Warp Fruit."
"Paramecia-type, Plasma-Plasma Fruit."
Three more absolutely monstrous fruits.
Gaji's eyes went round. Then he looked at the last three boxes and didn't even dare guess.
With boxes that ornate, they had to be priceless.
White Ghost snapped them shut again without even looking inside, and put all the fruits away.
"Alright," he said, "those six fruits you saw are more than enough for you two to report back with."
"You take me for what, exactly?" Gaji said, face reddening. "Some kind of informant?"
White Ghost gave him a lazy look.
"You are what you are. Anyway… we're all together here tonight. Might as well design the ship while everyone's around.
Kantena!"
The mink appeared in the courtyard like a ghost.
"Sir!" he said, dropping to one knee.
"Come join us for the design," White Ghost said. "Ain will draw. You handle technical details. Everyone throw in requests. We've got money—no need to skimp. Let's build something nice."
Kantena nodded and joined the circle as Ain spread her drafting paper and took up a pencil.
"Yay!" Shirohiko and Uta both cheered, bouncing over. "We finally get to design the ship!"
"Boss," Zan Gao said, raising a glass, "we gotta have a proper gym onboard. Training equipment, the works. Big one."
"I've got equipment," White Ghost nodded. "Gym's fine. We can't slack on training just because we're sightseeing."
Ain glanced up from her rough outline.
"What size are we talking?" she asked. "Overall length, beam width?"
White Ghost rubbed his chin.
"About a hundred meters long. Forty to fifty meters wide should do."
Everyone agreed.
In this world, that was a mid-large ship—big enough to be impressive, not so huge that it screamed "bombard me."
Lucia spoke up shyly.
"Um… Mister White… at the stern… could I have a bit of space for a garden?"
"Noted," Ain said with a smile, sketching out a small terraced area at the back. "Anyone else?"
"I want the infirmary near the sun," little Squirrel-tan said, tail swishing. "Lots of light. That's best for patients."
"Got it," Ain said calmly, marking a bright corner with big windows. "Anyone else?"
One by one, everyone added their personal wishes.
A reading room.
Space for a music hall.
Training yard on deck.
Observation platform.
Secret storage.
A small forge.
By the time they were done, it was late into the night.
The women headed upstairs to sleep.
Only a cluster of men stayed in the living room with wine.
Gaji took a long swallow and sighed.
"I'm jealous," he said. "Traveling the world…"
"You can come," White Ghost said without thinking, clinking cups with him.
Gaji shook his head.
"I can't," he said. "I'm a Marine. For justice."
They drank.
One by one, people dropped out until only Kuro, Gaji, Senor Pink, and White Ghost were still awake.
Suddenly, Gaji looked at White Ghost and said:
"I know Gion's avoiding me. Using you to piss me off."
"You know and you're still like this?" White Ghost stared at him. "You really do have self-awareness?"
"What can I do?" Gaji shrugged, pouring another cup. "I'm just… that kind of guy. Soft spot for any poor girl shivering on a street corner, you know? Gion… yeah, I don't really dare hope for her anymore."
"That doesn't sound like you," Kuro commented.
"It's exactly me," Gaji insisted, staring at the moon. "What kind of person am I…?"
He thought for a long time.
Finally he spoke.
"I'm the kind of man whose heart overflows with sympathy," he said, dead serious. "Every time I see a girl out on the street on a cold night, dressed… lightly, shivering in the wind, I can't help myself. I have to help her. Don't you think my compassion is… noble?"
White Ghost quietly stabbed him with a sentence.
"Did it ever occur to you," he asked, "that every one of those girls probably makes more money than you?"
Gaji choked, then glared at him.
"Can't you say something nice for once?"
"I'm just telling the truth," White Ghost shrugged. "Based on what you described, I've actually summed you up in one line. Want to hear it?"
Gaji straightened, sitting ramrod upright.
"Go on."
"Based on the twists and turns of your life," White Ghost said slowly, "and your so-called kindness, here's my conclusion:
You're the kind of man who's perfectly suited to sprinting down those narrow little side paths glistening with dew and autumn frost—
and absolutely not suited for racing down the wide, straight highway full of roadblocks and responsibility."
Senor Pink spat his drink out, barely turning his head in time to avoid hitting Kuro.
Kuro wiped his face with a napkin, nodded thoughtfully, and said with a straight face:
"Accurate."
Gaji's eyes lit up like twin suns.
It was the look of a man who had finally found someone who truly, deeply understood him.
"Hahaha!" he roared, throwing an arm around White Ghost's shoulders. "You really get me! Come on, drink! Tonight we drink till we drop!"
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