"You…" Ord looked crushed. Aiqi really couldn't understand his puppets.
"Well, it's kind of a man's romance. It's normal for girls not to get it," Rogers consoled him.
"Is that so?" Ord muttered doubtfully. But honestly, a giant four-meter brute looking all sad was a painful sight.
"Of course! By the way, Ord—how many puppets can your mind control at once?" Rogers quickly changed the subject.
"Right now, I can perfectly control three. If you don't count myself, then only two." Ord nodded firmly. "Since I made myself a puppet, I have full control of my own body. But if I try to handle more than three, mistakes happen. They become like dumb husks again."
Rogers nodded, thinking carefully. "Can that number increase?"
"It can. At first I couldn't even control one properly. As I've developed my fruit, it's gone up to three. I'm sure it'll grow further!" Ord answered with confidence—this was his domain, after all.
"That's great! Zehahaha! You must keep honing your ability," Rogers said with a grin. His plans now had to expand. He wanted to do what Moria did—command an army of the strong. And of course, only the finest would do.
"Of course! I'll give my all for this crew. Hahaha!" Ord laughed too. The feeling of growing stronger together—it wasn't bad.
"We could gather the bodies of those with powerful physiques," Rogers explained. "Even if their technique is poor, raw strength makes them formidable. With your ability, they'd become our assets."
"Disgusting as it sounds… it would give us a huge boost," Aiqi admitted, wrinkling her nose. She hated the thought but couldn't deny the advantage.
"It's doable. A brilliant plan!" Ord's eyes lit up. He'd benefit the most, and since Rogers trusted him, he couldn't let him down. But then he frowned. "The problem is, corpses need a skilled doctor to process. I can work wood and metal, but with flesh I'd just turn them into cyborgs—and that would waste their muscle strength. Their true power comes from the body."
"That's true…" Rogers realized. If they became machines, they'd lose their natural advantages. Moria had a top-notch surgeon, after all. Looks like they'd need one too. "We'll leave that for later. We don't have a doctor yet, but we'll find one."
"So be it. What do you think of this ship?" Ord asked, eager to set sail.
"Perfect! Zehahaha!" Rogers beamed. He was getting more and more excited.
"It's fine," Aiqi said more coolly. Then added, "Let's head back to the shore. We need to fetch our things. And bring Aro too."
"Right. Ord, you tidy up here. We'll move our stuff and get ready to set sail." Rogers straightened up, serious again.
"Understood, Captain!" Ord nodded, smiling. "Take whatever you need from the workshop. Not everything can come with me anyway."
"Then we won't be shy!" Rogers grinned, already eager to depart.
"See you soon, new crewmate!" Aiqi said. Though she found Ord creepy, as a comrade he deserved respect.
"Yeah, new crewmate." Ord felt a warmth in his chest. He thought this soft-voiced girl would reject him, but instead, this crew felt… right.
"Now we've got a ship, and a shipwright too! A perfect day! Zehahaha!" Rogers laughed heartily, twirling a dagger he'd swiped from Ord's shop. Sharp as hell, though ridiculously priced—eight million Beli. A true rip-off. And now, technically, he was the head of that black market…
"Seems our luck's pretty good," Aiqi said thoughtfully.
"Of course! I'm the man who'll be King of the Pirates! And now I don't even owe you money anymore! Hmph!" Rogers declared proudly.
"Hmph! I paid for the meal earlier. And we still need supplies. Who's footing the bill? Me. You still owe me," Aiqi shot back firmly.
"…Right," Rogers wilted instantly.
"Haha, your face is hilarious, Rogers-oniichan!"
"Funny? I don't feel funny at all."
"As long as I think it's funny, idiot."
"…If you're happy, I guess that's enough."
While Rogers and Aiqi returned to their little boat, Aro had already woken up there—awakened by hunger. Rogers had eaten nearly everything on board.
"So hungry… and the Captain still isn't back…" Aro groaned, slumped against the railing. His gaze drifted to the nearby pirate ship, buzzing with noise. Even from dozens of meters away, he could hear the rowdy voices. His eyes lit up. "Are they having a feast? If I sneak over, maybe I can snag a bite."
Driven by his stomach, Aro straightened his clothes and crept across the waves toward the ship.
The closer he got, the surer he was—it was indeed a banquet. Pirates crowded the deck, a dozen tables laden with meat and drink. His mouth watered.
He slipped aboard quietly, sat himself beside a drunken pirate, and shamelessly grabbed food off the table. The drunk only blinked blearily at him… then raised his cup for a toast.
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T/N:
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