The door creaked shut.
Beckman trudged back inside and collapsed onto the sofa with a sigh.
"Pfft—HAHAHAHA!"
Shanks released the unconscious Queen, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.
He fell to the floor, pounding it with one hand.
"Shanks! What the hell are you laughing at? My reputation is completely ruined now, and you bastard still have the nerve to laugh?"
Beckman was furious and flustered.
He grabbed a bottle of rum and hurled it straight at Shanks.
Shanks effortlessly caught the bottle, flicked the cork off with his thumb, took a huge gulp, slammed the bottle down on the table with a thud, and then continued laughing until tears streamed from his eyes.
"It's over, completely over..." Beckman lay sprawled on the sofa with a look of utter despair, his hollow eyes fixed on the ceiling.
"Even if we get the photos back from Queen, my reputation is ruined."
Shanks struggled to suppress his laughter.
"This was your own brilliant idea, Beckman. We didn't mislead you. Crocodile, back me up here."
Crocodile observed the despondent Beckman and suddenly found his foul mood from being blackmailed by Queen all day vanishing without a trace.
Instead, he felt a faint, perverse sense of schadenfreude.
Yet his face remained expressionless as he silently set down the camera in his hand.
"Ahem..."
Suddenly, Queen, who had been unconscious for a while, sat up in confusion.
He blinked at the crowd in the private room and exclaimed, "Huh? Beckman? Shanks? When did you guys get here? What just happened to me?"
Queen felt disoriented, then abruptly realized he wasn't wearing any clothes.
"Eh? When did my clothes come off? Crocodile, you bastard! That camera is mine—you stole it! Give it back!"
Enraged, Queen lunged forward to snatch it, only to be held back by Beckman and Shanks.
"Easy, easy. Sit down and calm yourself first," Shanks quickly mediated, using one hand to guide Queen's massive frame back onto the seat.
"Hmph! I get it now. You two didn't want to pay up, so you teamed up with Shanks to mess with me, didn't you?"
Queen fastened his overalls and crossed his arms with a cold sneer.
"Let me tell you—no way! Even if you take that photo, it's useless. I've got backups at home. Unless you kill me right here, well... heh."
"You damn bastard!"
Crocodile's face darkened with fury.
He itched to beat Queen senseless to vent his hatred.
After wallowing in despair for a while, Beckman finally pulled himself together.
He picked up the camera beside him, extracted a black-and-white negative, and handed it to Queen.
"What's this?"
Queen took the negative suspiciously and froze the moment he saw it.
In the photo, he lay disheveled on the sofa while Beckman held him—just as Beckman had held Crocodile the night before.
"Th-this...?"
Queen stammered incoherently, utterly stunned.
"Hmph!"
Beckman adopted an inscrutable expression, crossing his arms with a cold smirk.
"Queen, you wouldn't want this photo leaked, would you?"
Queen's jaw dropped in shock.
"Hehehe."
Crocodile and Beckman chuckled ominously in unison, their eyes locked onto Queen.
Beckman continued, "Listen here, Queen. If you want me to destroy these photo, you'll have to hand over all the photos. And as compensation for your despicable blackmail, you'll pay us damages for emotional distress. Let's not be greedy—just 100 million Berries each. After all, we're still friends, right?"
Beckman exchanged a glance with Crocodile, both flashing triumphant grins.
But then, Queen clutched the photo, his eyes widening before he suddenly slapped his own thigh.
"Holy shit, as expected of you, Beckman! I've long heard about your high intelligence, but never imagined it to be this impressive. Even I, Queen, am in awe."
Beckman froze, his mouth slightly agape.
"What are you talking about? Have you lost your mind?"
Queen excitedly raised the negatives in his hand, shouting enthusiastically.
"Do you know how frustrated I was when I woke up this morning? Most of the photos I worked so hard to take turned out bad! I was racking my brains, wondering when I could sneak in during their parties to take more. Beckman, your trick is brilliant!"
Pointing at the photo, Queen laughed.
"Look, I don't need to stupidly wait for a party anymore—I can just invite people to drink with me! With my status, who would dare refuse? And then, hehe..."
"Pfft—!"
Beside Queen, Shanks, who had been guzzling rum, suddenly spat it out through his nose and mouth.
"You... I..." Beckman found himself utterly baffled by Queen's train of thought.
Crocodile finally snapped, "Shut up, Queen! You bastard, you still haven't answered our questions. Hand over those photos now, or I'll send these to Morgans!"
Queen shrugged and raised his own negatives, addressing a dumbfounded Beckman.
"Beckman! Hand over a billion berries, or I'll leak these photos!"
Beckman was completely thrown off balance.
Wasn't this supposed to be a case of "turning the tables"?
The plan had been flawlessly executed, the photos taken.
But because the other party was too shameless and twisted, they flipped the script, leaving him empty-handed.
...
Half an hour later, as the bar owner Deba squinted at the private room door being pushed open, Queen and the others filed out.
Queen led the way, disheveled but chest puffed out, radiating smugness.
Behind him were Beckman and Crocodile, both dazed and questioning their life choices.
Bringing up the rear was Shanks, shaking his head with a wry smile with a bottle of rum in his hand.
"Intense. That was really intense," muttered Deba, the bearded middle-aged owner behind the counter, his face full of amazement.
"As expected of an Emperor's crew—always playing on another level. Tsk tsk, truly... amazing..."
...
A while later, as Queen cheerfully stuffed bags of berries into the pockets on his large belly, Beckman stood before him, face dark with annoyance.
"Queen! Remember this—no matter how many photos you have, you must destroy them all!"
Queen patted his chest reassuringly.
"Hey, relax, relax! When Uncle Queen does business, he's fair to all—integrity is the foundation, after all!"
Beckman snorted coldly, then narrowed his eyes.
"You're a cyborg, right? You know machinery? Can you make guns?"
"Are you kidding? I'm a beast with guns."