The boss of the Wild Wolf Gang knelt in front of Tesoro, snot and tears running down his face.
"Boss Tesoro, I was wrong! Spare—"
Bang.
Tesoro shot him in the head without even blinking.
The world was simple.
If you weren't ruthless, you didn't last.
He lowered the pistol and slid it back into its holster.
"Clean this up," Tesoro said calmly. "Anyone injured gets bandaged first, then come claim your medical expenses. Everyone who came out today gets a bonus. Those who got hurt—double."
"Yoooh! Long live, Boss!"
"The boss is the best!"
The men broke into cheers.
"Boss Tesoro, check this out."
One of his trusted men waited until the others had gone off to work, then stepped forward, holding a small box with both hands.
Tesoro took it and flicked it open.
"…This is…"
Inside lay a golden apple covered in strange, curling patterns, resting quietly as if it had always belonged there.
"A Devil Fruit," Tesoro breathed.
He knew exactly what he was looking at.
His heart kicked into overdrive.
"You did well," he said, clapping the man on the shoulder. "Stick with me, and you'll eat well, drink well, and never worry another day in your life."
"Heh heh, that's my honor, Boss," the underling said quickly, plastering on a flattering grin.
Tesoro stared at the fruit.
It felt… alluring, somehow.
Like it was calling to him.
Wanting him to eat it.
He didn't hesitate another second.
He raised the fruit and bit down.
The taste hit him like a punch to the soul.
Bitter, foul, so wrong he almost vomited on the spot. Tesoro gagged, but forced himself to chew and swallow.
The underling watched with undisguised envy.
It wasn't that he hadn't recognized the fruit.
Or that he didn't want that power.
He'd just heard too many rumors—Devil Fruits came in every type under the sun. No one knew what this one did. If it turned out to be some flowers-and-grass trash, he'd have lost his one shot forever.
And with the brothers watching, there was no way to secretly squirrel the thing away.
He wasn't suicidal.
"Guh…"
Tesoro coughed and retched.
"Water," he grated.
Someone rushed over, and he rinsed his mouth out roughly, spitting onto the ground.
He swore this was the worst-tasting thing he'd ever eaten, and it wasn't even close.
He closed his eyes, forcing himself to ignore the aftertaste.
Feel it…
"What did you get, Boss?" his underling asked, eyes shining.
Tesoro opened his eyes.
A slow smile spread across his face.
"Something incredible," he said.
He turned toward the safe tucked against the back wall, where they kept their hard-won gold, and flicked his hand.
The bars and coins inside liquefied in an instant, turning into shimmering gold fluid that oozed out through the cracks and flowed toward him like a living tide.
Molten gold climbed his arm, wrapping it from wrist to shoulder.
Tesoro laughed.
"Hahahahaha… what a magnificent power."
The gold flowed down his arm and hardened with a metallic duang, forming a heavy golden gauntlet.
"Paramecia," he said, voice low and reverent. "The Gold-Gold Fruit. This is perfect."
His underling kept his face carefully blank, but inside, his heart was bleeding.
Control gold. He can control gold. If I'd eaten that fruit… what 'Boss Tesoro'? I'd be the one with women on my left and right, stepping on him.
More gold was brought in as his men finished looting the Wild Wolf Gang's stash.
Tesoro controlled it all, sending rivers of molten metal washing over his own body again and again.
In the end, it formed a full suit of golden armor around him.
Without the Stella incident in his past—without being re-enslaved and broken again—Tesoro's personality leaned toward flamboyant arrogance to begin with.
Now, with the Gold-Gold Fruit burning in his veins, his ego exploded.
He wanted more.
More gold.
More luxury.
More status.
He would be the richest man in the world.
"Buzz—"
A wave of raw pressure burst from him.
The weaker men around him rolled their eyes back and collapsed in rows.
"W–was… was that me?" Tesoro stared at his hands, then burst into crazed laughter.
"Hahahahaha! Power. I can feel it!"
With the Gold-Gold Fruit in hand, his rise was like a rocket launch.
He started sweeping the surrounding territories, swallowing them one after another.
Every turf grab brought conflict.
Tesoro, wrapped in gold, smashed his enemies like insects.
At one point, he ran into a man who could use Haki.
The man shattered Tesoro's golden arm with one punch, the pitch-black coating on his fist glinting ominously.
Tesoro had nearly shit himself.
If the man hadn't already ruined his body with booze and women, if Tesoro hadn't dragged the fight out and eventually suffocated him under a flood of gold, that would've been his end.
Instead, Tesoro slaughtered him and took his place.
From then on, his name spread fast.
The man who killed an old-line boss.
The Golden Warrior, Tesoro.
And with power came something else.
He stopped tolerating even the slightest disobedience.
His word became law.
If you defied him, you disappeared.
Then one day, he saw her.
Stella.
He froze where he stood.
A woman so beautiful it hurt to look at.
Curves perfect, posture elegant, figure flawless.
But what captured Tesoro wasn't just her beauty.
It was the smile on her face.
A soft, gentle, healing smile.
Beautiful.
Graceful.
Stella and Ain were out shopping for clothes.
At that same black shop Jin always cursed as a scam.
"This is our newest line, ma'am," the salesgirl chirped. "Look at the cut, feel this fabric."
"If you wear this dress, your husband won't be able to take his eyes off you."
She threw every sweet line she could think of.
This lady was a VIP. Ever since that very handsome man brought her here once, she'd come back again and again.
Ain glanced at the price tag and whispered to Stella, "No wonder White-bro called this place a rip-off. Look at these prices. Ordinary people can't even step over the threshold."
Stella held a dark purple nightdress up against herself, comparing sizes in the mirror.
She covered her mouth and laughed softly.
"Yeah," she said. "He warned me the first time he brought me here."
"But I still can't help it. Every time I go shopping, I come back."
"Because this was the first place he took me to buy clothes after saving me."
Ain couldn't argue.
She was a woman too.
If someone rescued her from hell and then treated her like that… she'd probably engrave every detail into her heart forever.
The two of them left the shop with their arms full of bags and headed toward a donut stand.
The same store where Arakaki Jin had bought Stella donuts the first time.
Every time she came out to shop, she followed the same route.
Whatever Jin did that day, she repeated it.
Today, Stella wore a simple white dress, clean and elegant.
Ain wore a casual top and jeans, a light cloak tossed over her shoulders, twin swords at her waist as always.
One mature and graceful.
One fresh and bright.
They drew hungry eyes wherever they went.
Wolves lurked in every corner.
Some men just stared.
Others watched and plotted in the shadows.
Sometimes they'd run into Celestial Dragons too, but Ain's Observation Haki had grown sharp. She could sense their presence early and steer Stella away before trouble hit.
There had been one time, though, when a Celestial Dragon had bumped into them by accident.
He'd ordered the CP guards at his side to seize the two women on the spot.
Stella and Ain had run for it, slipping away in the chaos.
The Celestial Dragon hadn't given up.
He kept looking.
When Saint Mjosgard heard about it while picking slaves at the auction, he broke out in a cold sweat.
Are you kidding me?
Those two women?
He knew exactly who they were.
They belonged to that Marine—White Ghost, Arakaki Jin.
If some idiot actually Ryder hands on them…
He didn't even want to picture how that would go.
He still remembered what Jin had said back on Fishman Island—how if he killed Mjosgard and went off to be a pirate, his "Black Justice" would keep right on rolling.
And now, the profit Jin brought him was enormous.
First pick of the strongest slaves.
Batches of prime pirate fighters.
The auction's reputation skyrocketing.
The money pouring in.
Combine that with Jin's temper…
Mjosgard rushed to that other Celestial Dragon's manor and beat him up personally.
Then he made it known—those two women were his.
Anyone who Ryder a finger on them would never be welcome at Auction House No. 1 again.
The other Celestial Dragon hesitated.
In the end, he backed down.
Even idiots knew better than to sabotage a stable money source.
Some people tried to copy Jin's model.
Set up their own pirate-only auction houses.
None of them survived.
Some burned down in strange, all-consuming fires.
Some had their managers vanish without a trace.
One thing was clear.
You could imitate the shape.
But you couldn't snatch the meat out of White Ghost's mouth and expect to live.
Some forces… you just couldn't afford to provoke.
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