Ron's mind was a whirl of questions.
Even after awakening both Armament and Observation Haki, he hadn't felt that same surge — that mysterious elevation he'd once experienced with his swordsmanship.
He began tracing the path that had led him here — back to his "training" under Mihawk.
He had first mastered the intermediate level of swordsmanship, equal to both Mihawk and Zoro.
Then, step by steady step, he had advanced — from high-level to top-level — each stage polished to perfection.
And only when his swordsmanship reached its very pinnacle… did it transcend.
It evolved into something greater — Supreme Swordsmanship.
The very thing that allowed him to surpass Mihawk.
"Could it be…"
A flash of realization cut through his thoughts.
All the other techniques he'd learned — Fishman Karate, the Marines's Soru, even Haki —
none of their original users had reached the ultimate realm in their art.
Fishman Karate? Only the 40th dan.
Soru? Merely at a level of proficiency.
Armament and Observation Haki? One beginner, one intermediate.
"It all makes sense now."
To elevate, one must first reach the absolute peak of mastery.
Only techniques that had reached their world's ceiling — only those honed to perfection — could be reborn beyond limits.
That, he realized, was the essence of transcendence.
A "Supreme Art" wasn't inherited.
It was created — born from surpassing what the world thought possible.
Satisfied, Ron exhaled slowly. The puzzle in his heart finally fit together.
But then, just as he turned to rest, something flickered through his senses.
His Observation Haki pulsed — like a radar coming alive.
Two unfamiliar auras.
Strangers.
Sneaking aboard the Themis without a sound.
On deck, moments earlier—
Two figures crept along the railing, moving with exaggerated care.
"Miss Wednesday," whispered the man in a bright green suit and glittering crown, "these people don't look friendly. Maybe we should rethink the whole whale-catching plan."
The girl beside him frowned.
Her long aqua-blue hair was tied in a neat ponytail, her streetwise outfit completely at odds with her graceful face.
She spoke softly but firmly: "The mission deadline is almost up. If we don't return to the boss soon, we'll be branded traitors."
She glanced toward the whale in the distance.
"Mr. 9, let's split up. The faster we move, the better."
The two exchanged a knowing look — then disappeared into different corridors.
Miss Wednesday slipped quietly into the ship's interior.
A faint warmth greeted her — soft lamplight, tidy furniture, the faint scent of citrus and sea salt.
"This is… strange," she murmured. "There's no Jolly Roger, and the cabin looks cozy — not at all like a pirate ship."
She peeked into the first room.
A chart was spread across the desk.
Navigation lines, compass notes — a navigator's quarters, no doubt.
Nothing worth stealing.
Then she entered the second room — and froze.
Her pupils shrank.
A brilliant golden glow filled her vision.
"Wha—what in the world… how much money is this?!"
Mountains of Beli stacked to the ceiling.
Her eyes nearly sparkled out of her head.
"I… I've never seen this much in my life!"
Her heart pounded with greed and excitement.
"Just a few sacks of this and the boss won't dare complain about a failed mission!" she muttered.
Her expression hardened as a new thought took root.
"Maybe this will earn me a promotion… even access to higher-level Baroque Works intel!"
She turned, ready to fetch Mr. 9 —
—but stopped dead.
Someone was leaning casually against the corridor wall.
Smiling.
"Hey there," the stranger greeted lightly.
Her blood ran cold.
Discovered!
Miss Wednesday's face paled.
She stumbled backward into the room, her body tense and ready to fight or flee.
But before she could bolt for the door, the man stepped forward — closing it behind him with a soft click.
He was already standing there, calm and composed, blocking her only exit.
"Well, well," Ron said lazily, a smile tugging at his lips.
"Bold of you — sneaking onto my ship to steal from me."
He tilted his head slightly.
"So, tell me… what's your plan now?"
Princess Vivi!
The realization struck him as he got a proper look at her face.
He blinked in surprise.
He hadn't expected to meet her this soon — not before even reaching Whiskey Peak.
And that outfit…
He had to suppress a laugh.
The future princess of Alabasta, the dignified diplomat of peace —
right now, she looked like a rebellious street dancer.
A national embarrassment, he thought wryly.
This has to be her black history moment.
Vivi, meanwhile, realized she'd been cornered.
No way out.
Her instincts screamed fight.
She straightened, forcing a confident smirk.
"So you're the ship's owner, huh? Fine — let's see if you can handle my charm attack!"
She crossed her arms dramatically, raising two perfume bottles from her belt.
With a flick of her wrists, fragrant mist burst forth, filling the cabin with a sweet, intoxicating aroma.
She began to move — her body swaying gracefully, her every gesture carrying an alluring rhythm.
The dance — Perfume Seduction Waltz.
Her signature technique.
Ron blinked.
Then sighed.
Seriously?
A princess, attempting to charm him with a perfume dance?
If anyone walked in right now, he'd never live it down.
"Good grief," he muttered under his breath. "You really don't know who you're dealing with…"
But the scent hit him — subtle yet strangely hypnotic.
Sweet, warm, dangerously close.
He smiled — a slow, devilish curve of his lips.
He stepped toward her.
Vivi's heart skipped.
Then again.
And again.
Before she could react, Ron's hand shot out — catching her wrists mid-motion, pinning them above her head against the wall.
Her breath caught in her throat.
He leaned in slightly, his tone low and teasing.
"Tell me, woman… do you even know what you're doing right now?"
The sudden closeness, his voice, his eyes — all of it struck her at once.
Her charm perfume — useless.
Her limbs — trembling.
Her heartbeat — wild.
Why isn't it working? she thought frantically.
He should be frozen by now!
Instead, it was she who couldn't move.
Her face flushed crimson as her pulse thundered in her ears.
The "Perfume Seduction Waltz" had failed — catastrophically.
Because for the first time, Princess Vivi's heart was the one that faltered.
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