"I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that."
Issho smiled honestly, turning to Don, clearly waiting for an explanation.
"Guess the dice size — then guess whether you bet right or not," Don said.
"This?"
Issho looked at him, wanting to say isn't that obvious?
Robin had been quietly observing, now seeming lost in thought.
"The strong make the rules, while the weak follow them," Don said calmly.
So I'm the weak one now?
Issho froze, then chuckled and shook his head.
"What are you trying to say?" he asked.
"This world is complicated," Don said slowly. "It isn't just black or white — it's chaotic. It doesn't bend to your will."
"The influence of one person on the world is far too small," Issho murmured after a pause.
"But you can at least try," Don replied, his eyes steady and serious.
Before becoming an admiral, Issho had no fame whatsoever — which, in a way, didn't make sense. A man of his strength couldn't have just appeared out of nowhere.
Maybe it was his personality. Maybe something else.
Anyone willing to blind himself clearly wasn't driven by ambition.
In the original timeline, Issho had joined the Navy during the world conscription, determined to abolish the Seven Warlords system — perhaps because some Warlord did something he could never forgive.
But Don didn't really care about that.
"If you can't stand it, then try changing it."
"So that's what you wanted to tell me?" Issho said in a deep voice.
"With your strength, you can change a lot of things by yourself."
"Then what about you?" Issho asked. "What exactly are you planning to do? What kind of force do you intend to build?"
He understood Don's meaning — but understanding was one thing, his curiosity another.
A man like Don… what was he really after?
"Of course, something big enough to shake the world," Don said. "But I won't be the one doing it. You will. Or rather — you all will."
He didn't explain further. Instead, he tapped the dice cup in front of him.
"I bet big — and I bet you'll win."
Issho smiled faintly. "Then I'll guess big. You bet I'll win."
Don opened the dice cup.
"One, three, four — small. You guessed wrong… and right."
He smiled.
Issho chuckled. "Well, I don't have any particular goals right now anyway. But if you're looking for a bodyguard, I'm not the right man."
"That's nothing to worry about. I like handling things myself," Don said lightly. "But soon, in both Paradise and the New World — don't be too surprised by what I do next."
Footsteps echoed again.
A battered Crocodile returned.
He looked at Don and the others at the gambling table, then walked over and sat down silently.
"Wanna stir up something big?" Don asked casually.
Crocodile didn't answer — still sluggish from the beating he'd taken.
So Don decided to give him a little push.
"You mean… that organization?" Crocodile asked.
"With your ability, it shouldn't be that hard," Don said.
"I've got my own things to handle. No time for management — I need someone to run it for me."
"And what's your goal?" Crocodile frowned. "An organization like that… what's it for?"
"I told you — to do something big," Don replied flatly.
Crocodile fell silent. Wasn't that basically nonsense?
"Robin," Don turned to her.
Robin smiled, stood up, and began explaining Don's concept of a Hunter Association.
Crocodile and Issho listened quietly, their expressions growing stranger by the minute.
When she finished, Crocodile frowned in thought. "This… counts as an organization?"
"Seems you weren't beaten hard enough earlier," Don said with a straight face.
Crocodile paused, speechless.
"This isn't an organization — more like a… club," Crocodile muttered.
"I agree," Issho suddenly said. "Maybe one day, the term pirate will disappear entirely."
Issho rolled his blind eyes toward the three of them, offering his own prediction.
"You can keep chasing your Pluton if you like," Don added. "Hmm… maybe we should call you an Ancient Weapon Hunter instead?"
"Wait — you know what I'm after?" Crocodile stiffened, eyes wide.
"I guessed," Don said casually. "But Pluton isn't here."
He tapped the table.
"Pluton's hidden in Wano."
That hit Crocodile like lightning. He shot to his feet, stunned. "You know?"
"But tell me, even if you find one ancient weapon, can you really build your dream nation?" Don said calmly. "You're too naive. Even if you find Pluton — even if you learn how to build it — you won't be able to keep it."
Crocodile slowly sat back down, face twisting between disbelief and frustration.
"Looks like Whitebeard hit you too hard," Don went on. "So — help me get the Hunter Association running. And when we run into Whitebeard again, I'll help you get your payback."
Crocodile's jaw tightened. "According to your logic, I can still do my own thing, right?"
"Of course," Don nodded.
"Then why didn't you just say that from the start?" Crocodile's tone cracked.
Don shrugged. "Some people don't wake up until they've been punched."
"You're insulting me," Crocodile muttered, lip twitching.
"No need to guess," Don said. "I am."
Crocodile's face darkened. He glanced at Issho, then at Don, realizing resistance was pointless.
Fine. You're strong, so you're right.
He lowered his head, thinking through how to actually build this so-called Hunter Association.
It wasn't difficult — the challenge was making people take it seriously.
"So this is your plan…" he murmured.
"Headquarters will be set up at Sabaody Archipelago," Don said suddenly.
"What? Sabaody? You've got to be kidding me!"
END OF CHAPTER
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