The prisoners were busy dragging the corpses into the lower deck—grunting, swearing under their breath, clearly not thrilled about the job but knowing better than to complain out loud. I supervised briefly, made sure the bodies were being stored where it was cold enough to slow the rotting. They hadn't started to rot, not yet, and I intended to keep it that way. Losing a few million berries to decomposition would be the kind of insult I didn't want to stomach.
The lower deck smelled of damp wood, salt, and now... death.
I didn't linger.
I stepped back out into the open, taking in a deep lungful of sea air. Humid, warm, salted—but blessedly clean compared to what I'd just left behind. The sun was climbing higher, spilling gold across the deck, and the sea shimmered like a living jewel around us.
And there they were.
Nami and Carina, seated cross-legged on a pile of crates and cloth, going over the loot with meticulous excitement. It looked less like an inventory session and more like a fashion salon. They were holding up jewels, testing how earrings dangled, how necklaces caught the light, swapping bracelets and rings, laughing in the way only girls with temporary peace and too much treasure could.
They were mimicking the high-class nobles of this world—smug expressions, graceful postures, exaggerated gestures. Nami sipped from an imaginary wine glass. Carina flicked her wrist like she was brushing away a servant.
It was ridiculous. It was charming.
No matter the world, women and shiny things seemed destined to find each other.
I watched for a moment, arms folded, letting the scene soak in. Then, with a little purpose, I dipped into the pile of loot myself and dug until I found exactly what I was looking for.
A bracelet—thin, gold, simple in design but elegant in finish. Understated, not gaudy. Nami would like that. It fit her—refined, sharp, with just a touch of danger.
And for Carina, a pendant. Small, silver-edged, with a delicate stone at its center—soft purple, like the light just before dawn. An odd color, for an jewelery, but one that reminded me of her. Unpredictable. Subtle. Always watching.
I pocketed both.
"Carina." I called.
She turned, hopping off her crate with a skip in her step.
As she reached me, I grabbed her lightly by the shoulder and gave her a spin. She yelped, just a little, her hair catching in the light. Then, before she could recover, I used my arm to gently clear the strands away from her neck and slipped the pendant around her.
The gem settled just below her collarbone, catching the sun like a secret whisper. She looked down, then back up at me. And then she hugged me—tight, arms around my torso, pressing in close. There was a quiet sincerity in it that made me pause for a moment.
Of course, I didn't miss the opportunity to let my hands wander a bit—just playful, nothing crude.
Until Nami's glare landed on me like a sniper's scope.
I froze.
Nami didn't need Haki. She had The Look—that burning, soul-piercing, male-killing gaze that could bring down a giant with guilt alone. I peeled myself off of Carina like I'd been caught red-handed—which, to be fair, I had—and turned my attention toward her.
"Nami." I said, stepping forward and taking her hand.
Soft. Pale. Slightly cool from the sea breeze. Delicate in appearance, but strong underneath. Just like her.
I gave it a gentle squeeze before she could pull away.
And then, smoothly, the bracelet slid itself into place around her wrist.
She paused. The fire in her expression flickered.
The anger didn't disappear, exactly. It softened. Shifted. Her lips stayed flat, but her eyes said something different. She liked it. That much I could tell.
I stood back and watched as she turned her wrist, letting the bracelet catch the light. Her lips twitched upward, just slightly. Subtle joy. Not enough for a smile, but enough for me to count it as a win.
Behind me, Carina had already jumped on my back.
Literally.
Arms wrapped around my shoulders, her weight pressing down as she laughed, clearly delighted with her new accessory—and her ability to catch me off guard. I laughed too, letting her legs wrap around my waist, my fingers hooking under her thighs as I hoisted her up.
The girls were clever, beautiful, dangerous.
They were also crafty, which meant any gifts I gave them were coming out of my own share. That 30% I had bargained for? Probably down to 20% after the jewels. Maybe 15% now that Carina was clinging to me like a delighted child.
But I didn't mind.
Sometimes you gave a little to save a lot.
And sometimes, just sometimes, you gave a little because it made people smile—and that was worth something too.
I carried her across the deck, laughing as she clung tighter, her laughter echoing above the sound of the waves.
Then, with the dramatic flair of a pirate captain, I kicked open the cabin door and marched inside.
Carina squealed as I launched her from my back and onto the sofa. She bounced once on the cushions, hair flying, pendant glittering, and when we locked eyes, we both knew where this was heading.
To somewhere childish, very childish.
Tickle war.
It started innocent enough. A poke to her side. A retaliatory jab at my ribs. Then full-on grappling, fingers flying, both of us laughing like fools as we rolled across the cushions.
Her laughter filled the room, infectious and sharp.
And then the door creaked.
Nami.
She stepped in, saw us mid-wrestle, and raised an eyebrow. Her hands were on her hips, her face unreadable.
We both froze.
Then Carina, with all the mischief in the world, reached out, grabbed Nami by the wrist, and pulled her in.
That was it.
The dam broke.
Nami let out a startled noise, tried to resist, failed—and within seconds, I was tickling both of them, fingers darting, bodies writhing on the sofa in a flurry of limbs and laughter.
They fought back, of course. Nails jabbing, hands slapping. At one point, I ended up pinned beneath both of them, Nami at my chest, Carina on my legs, and they went for my sides with synchronized vengeance.
Laughter shook the room.
Laughter that filled the cabin, spilled into the hallway, mixed with the wind, and danced on the waves outside.
It wasn't about flirting anymore. It wasn't about teasing or tension or keeping score.
It was just fun.
A rare thing, in a life like this.
A moment where three people got to be at peace.
We collapsed eventually, breathless, sweat on our brows, chests heaving. Nami lay curled on one side of the sofa, the bracelet on her wrist catching the light. Carina was sprawled beside me, pendant resting against her collarbone.
I sat in the middle, arms draped across the back of the cushions, grinning like an idiot.
Both girls looked at each other and burst into laughter again.
And for a moment, the world felt simple. Real. Kind.
Just laughter, soft breathing, and the golden light of afternoon sliding through the cabin windows.
----------------
I watched, wide-eyed and borderline awe-struck, as Nami conducted one of the most daring business transactions I'd ever seen—against a News Coo.
She held her ground like a queen of commerce, casually flicking out twenty berries and a few freshly grilled fish like she was buying snacks from a street vendor, not bartering with one of Morgans' official couriers. The bird looked visibly insulted. Its wings fluffed, eyes narrowed, beak tightening with clear internal conflict. I swear I saw its feathers bristle like a merchant about to blacklist a customer.
But Nami didn't flinch. She smiled. Sweet. Disarming. That smile that could make a tax collector forgive a lifetime of evasion. Then came the puppy eyes. The one-two combo she probably used to bankrupt every merchant and man from East Blue.
The bird hesitated.
I swear on the sea itself—it hesitated.
I froze mid-brush, foam collecting in the corners of my mouth.
Was I... witnessing the impossible?
The News Coo, after several seconds of suffering, flapped angrily once and turned its head. It was resisting. This bird had the kind of mental fortitude strong men could only dream of. It had to be knocking on the door of Observation Haki, or at least some kind of spiritual fortitude I couldn't even begin to understand.
Then, Nami went for the finisher.
Another twenty. Half-lidded eyes. A barely-there pout. And suddenly, the poor avian snapped.
It sighed.
I kid you not, the damn bird sighed like it had just lost its life savings to a better negotiator.
Then it took the forty berries, tucked the fish under one wing, and flew off in defeated silence.
She did it. Nami bartered with a News Coo... and won.
I choked on my toothbrush. Nearly sent foam shooting across the room. My jaw dropped so fast it was a miracle I didn't drop the brush with it.
Everyone knew you didn't barter with News Coo. That was like asking the World Government for a discount on taxes. Yet here she was—standing smug, victorious, holding a paper she got at half price and a quarter fish.
I looked to Carina, seeking validation, a shared sense of disbelief.
She just shrugged.
Like it was nothing.
And maybe for them, it was. For me, it felt like I'd just witnessed the cracking of some unspoken universal rule.
At least she paid something. If she hadn't, I wouldn't put it past Morgans to send someone after us. Either with posters or blades. Probably both.
I sighed and went back to brushing.
She really was the money grubber of the Strawhats. Ruthless, shameless, and successful. I had to respect it—even if it scared the hell out of me.
After a solid scrub, I gurgled the minty foam and leaned toward the mirror. My teeth gleamed white, no yellow in sight. Good. Couldn't go around smiling at marines, merchants, or attractive women with a mouth like old rope.
I checked my breath with a quick exhale into my palm.
Clean.
A small win in a life full of chaos.
At least the girls wouldn't make faces when they smell my breath while I kiss them.
Kissing.
Why was I thinking about kissing?
Fuuuuuck.
I am losing control of myself. The games with the girls are getting me out of control.
I slammed my palm into the wall, louder than I intended. The sound made Nami jump, dropping her paper with a startled yelp as she turned to glare at me.
She huffed, picking up her paper, but kept her eyes on me for a second longer than necessary. Judging. Calculating.
And that's when I realized what was happening.
I was horny.
Not just vaguely interested or quietly distracted. I was dangerously horny.
Like... more than I ever was as a teenager.
A year without any release. Months with no human contact. Weeks surrounded by two beautiful women who teased like it was second nature. And now—now, Carina was sunbathing on the deck wearing a strip of fabric that barely counted as clothing, skin glowing with salt and sunlight.
I had taken advantage of that body before. Had touched, had teased, had played with fire and stopped a second before it burned me. But now? Now it was like I wanted to walk in the sandstorm in search for the oasis I left behind.
I told myself I was in control. That my morals, my discipline, my boundaries mattered. But man... I was weak.
So weak.
I looked at myself in the mirror and shook my head. "Get it together, man."
I rinsed my face with cold water. Once. Twice. Five times.
It helped.
Sort of.
I dried off with the nearest towel and turned around, feeling calmer, more composed.
And then I saw her.
Carina, mid-stretch, arms above her head, back arched just enough to showcase every curve. Her smirk said she knew I was watching—and that she was performing for me. Her pendant shimmered with the sun, her hair loose and wild from the wind.
My poker face cracked. Carina grinned wider. Nami peeked over her paper—one eyebrow raised. A quiet challenge: You're not hiding anything, you know.
I felt like my soul was on display. Like I'd become a book they were both speed-reading for fun.
I groaned and slapped myself lightly across the face.
Focus.
I needed to cash in the bounty. I needed to unload the corpses, get paid. I needed to find a brothel, or at least some distance, before I did something stupid.
I am just a man surrounded by temptation, trying not to drown in it.
"Keep it together." I muttered again. "Just one more day."
Carina walked past me, her fingers brushing my cheek, her hips swaying just enough to taunt me to do something very immoral. Nami soon followed as she let out a smile at me I could only describe as angelic as she walked in the cabin with Carina.
Why had I gone from teasing the girls to being teased by them?
"One more day." I muttered to no one particular. "One more day."
I'd survived sea beasts, pirates, leviathans and bloody death itself. But this pair of laughing thieves might be the end of me.