"Knowledge will make you a better version of yourself."
Dier swayed a pocket watch while speaking eloquently:
"The words in books are like beautiful butterflies, delicious food, or a bright full moon."
"You'll be deeply drawn to them, but don't forget—your mother is the one who attracts you most. You must obey her every command."
"Do you believe me?"
The snot-nosed boy's pupils dilated as he murmured in a daze, staring upward:
"I believe in my mom."
"Exactly, you believe in your mother."
Dier grinned and pointed at Marie beside him:
"Go follow your mother's orders now."
Snap
With a crisp finger snap, the boy's pupils refocused, his awareness returning before he dashed into Marie's arms.
The hypnosis had been a success. After leaving five million Belly behind, Marie departed with her child.
The room was now empty except for Dier, Robin, and the cold, hard cash.
Marie had only brought her child here while traveling—her husband's merchant guild was truly lucrative.
Robin kicked off her platform shoes and sat cross-legged on the sofa, asking curiously:
"Will he really study diligently for the next six years?"
"Of course. Hypnosis is quite miraculous."
Dier raised two fingers as examples:
"There was one hypnotist who could make ordinary people fearless of pain and multiply their strength with just a shoddy ring—enough to smash rocks with a single punch."
"And there was a little girl who could alter people's minds with specific painted patterns, turning close allies into traitors or making enemies' attacks land on the patterns against their will."
"Compared to them, my hypnosis that makes people study seriously is practically insignificant."
"Besides, hypnosis is just hypnosis—it doesn't change intelligence. Her son will study hard, but whether he actually learns anything? No guarantees."
Robin nodded thoughtfully before casually remarking:
"Just like how you only learned a few hundred characters in two years. If the intelligence isn't there, progress is slow."
"Oh, so the eight-year-old doctor is so impressive, huh?"
Dier retorted irritably, though he held back further complaints to avoid losing his newspaper reader.
He kicked off his shoes and sprawled on the sofa. "Sleep. We've got big plans tonight."
The earlier hypnosis had drained some of his stamina, so he needed to recover quickly—tonight, he had to brainwash another gang member.
Petals scattered as several arms stretched out, fetching a blanket from the bed to drape over him while handing Robin an unfinished book.
The room fell silent, save for soft breathing and the occasional rustle of turning pages.
...
9:00 PM.
Ross and Brandon, having finished dinner, staggered into the inn arm in arm, ignoring the dozing owner as they headed upstairs.
The drunken Ross glanced around, looking puzzled:
"This just looks like a normal inn. Are you sure there's any fun here?"
"Of course. There's something interesting in the room—you'll see."
Brandon pushed the door open and pulled Ross inside.
Instead of the expected lurid decor, Ross saw only an ordinary room, a young man lounging on the sofa, and—five million Belly on the table!!
Ross's breathing instantly turned ragged, his heart pounding wildly.
Money. So much money!
Life in the mafia wasn't as glamorous as it seemed. Most of the protection money collected ended up in the boss's pockets, with ordinary members living only slightly better than average people.
The stacks of cash before him were enough to keep him comfortable for an entire year.
"Want it?"
Dier grinned, pushing the pile of Belly on the table forward:
"Follow my orders, help me with a few things, and all this money is yours."
Already drunk, Ross didn't hesitate. He pulled a flintlock pistol from his coat and aimed it at Dier, sneering:
"Idiot, if I kill you, this money is mine anyway!"
A kid carrying a fortune—this was practically free money. Ross had never robbed someone with such a perfect opportunity!
Dier lounged back, legs crossed, completely relaxed:
"Why don't you check if there are any bullets in that gun first?"
Trying to scare me? Who wouldn't trust their own gun?
Click, click.
Ross pulled the trigger, but no bullet fired. Unconvinced, he tried again—still nothing.
At the same time, Brandon raised his own gun at Ross, speaking gravely:
"Give it up, Ross. Follow his orders, and we'll have more money than we can count."
"Brandon, you—?!"
Ross's face twisted in shock, his eyes flashing with betrayal—but then he calmly raised his hands:
"I surrender!"
Why risk his life for a measly monthly paycheck? If he couldn't take the money by force, earning it through work was fine too. As for the boss? He wished him all the best.
"A wise choice."
Dier clapped his hands, picked up 500,000 Belly, and tossed it to Ross. Ignoring the man's delighted expression, he asked flatly:
"Do you trust me?"
Trust you? I trust money!
Ross grumbled inwardly, but with the situation against him, he nodded in agreement.
"Good. Then take a seat—let's have a little chat."
Six hours later,
Ross, having listened to dozens of abilities, walked out of the inn alongside Brandon.
Late the next night, Ross brought Brown.
On the third day, Brown brought squad leader Geno.
On the fourth day, Geno brought the boss's right-hand man's right-hand man—Peak.
They say you can connect to any stranger through no more than six people.
Dier didn't plan to brainwash all of Blackfire at once. Instead, he climbed step by step, hypnotizing the higher-ups.
"Until finally, in one move, I take control of Blackfire's leader—seizing a gang without shedding a drop of blood!"
"Then use Blackfire to get close to Bullet, and from there, manipulate the Five Families!"
Lying on his bed, Dier enthusiastically painted a grand vision of the future for Robin:
"With the combined wealth of the Five Families, we'll build a massive ship to sail the world, collecting every Poneglyph!"
"We'll soar to Sky Island ten thousand meters above and dive to Fish-Man Island ten thousand meters below—we'll see every wonder this world has to offer!"
"Quite the grand dream," Robin remarked calmly.
"Let's just hope the World Government doesn't notice this massive ship, or we'll be blown to pieces by cannonfire."
"Don't just crush a man's dreams like that, you jerk!" Dier muttered. His grand vision had already stumbled at the first step.
Blackfire's leader, Gunpowder, was a Gunpowder Man who had eaten the Paramecia-type Gunpowder Fruit.
The Paramecia category had extreme highs and lows—ranging from god-tier abilities like the Paw-Paw Fruit to useless ones like the Whisper-Whisper Fruit or the Jacket-Jacket Fruit.
The world of pirates doesn't subscribe to the saying "there are no useless Devil Fruits, only useless users." There's a clear hierarchy among the fruits.
Take the Weapon-Weapon Fruit and the Slice-Slice Fruit for example.
From the intelligence gathered these past few days, Gunpowder's ability isn't particularly strong. It's a Paramecia-type that allows him to turn his body into gunpowder, making him immune to physical attacks while being flammable when exposed to fire.
"If you're gunpowder, you should just burn up and disappear! Why can you keep fighting while burning?" Dier gnashed his teeth in frustration. "This defies all logic!"
"Can't you just hypnotize him like before?"
"Robin, Hypnosis has its limits," Dier shook his head, holding up another photo. "Boren, Gunpowder's right-hand man. They're inseparable."
"Gunpowder isn't much of a fighter. His main advantage is becoming gunpowder to avoid damage while charging around in flames."
"This Boren is the agile type—they say he's fast enough to dodge bullets."
"Hypnotizing both at once is too risky. If either one notices something wrong and attacks, my Hypnosis becomes useless."
"So we need a different approach. How many arms can you create at maximum?"
"Without maintaining disguises, I can make up to twenty arms," Robin replied, puzzled. "What are you planning?"
"This is the Four Blues, not the Grand Line crawling with monsters. Guns still carry weight here."
Dier pushed open the window. The midday sun blazed overhead, with wisps of clouds drifting across the sky—a perfect clear day.
"We need a warehouse."