"A raise?"
Gion and the others blinked.
Luoyu's logic was so… unique, it caught them completely off guard.
"Admiral Luoyu, have you considered military merit? That's the highest honor in the Navy," Tokikake asked, unable to help himself.
Everyone turned to look at Luoyu.
The seas were full of bounties—was it really appropriate to be asking for a salary bump?
"Merit?" Luoyu rolled his eyes. "I'm already an Admiral. What do I need merit for? You think I can outlast Old Man Sengoku and wait my turn?"
"Don't forget, I've got three Admirals ahead of me. Even Old Man Kizaru's got more merit than me. Becoming Fleet Admiral? Might as well wait for the Year of the Monkey."
"Compared to that… isn't money just better?"
Beep—beep—beep.
The Den Den Mushi went dead.
Everyone stared at the drooping snail.
Even Sengoku couldn't resist the power of the "money is king" doctrine.
Only Luoyu could look past the throne and charge headlong down the road of cold, hard cash.
And the more they thought about it… the harder it was to argue.
As the fourth Admiral, with three giants ahead of him, the top seat was a pipe dream.
Why chase glory when you could chase gold?
This… this was true enlightenment.
"Old Man Sengoku really can't take a joke," Luoyu muttered, handing the Den Den Mushi back to Gion and taking a swig of his earthen brew.
His little scheme hadn't worked this time.
But he was sure next time, the raise would go down smoother.
And now that he had a solid excuse, he was confident Sengoku wouldn't dare claw back that ten-million-Berry bonus.
Ding! Congratulations, Host. You've received 10,000,000 performance points. Current system balance: 10,000,000. Would you like to redeem for Silver Chests?
A crisp system prompt echoed in his mind.
Luoyu raised an eyebrow and chuckled.
Figures. Systems are always landlords—never letting the peasants get rich. Not even a crumb left behind.
He hadn't even submitted the mission yet, and the system had already credited the bonus.
And now it was sweetly asking if he wanted to spend it.
How thoughtful.
Thinking back to his clash with Whitebeard and the gaps in his strength, Luoyu looked at the ten Silver Chests floating in his mental space.
He sighed.
"System, convert all ten million into Silver Chests."
Ding! Please wait…
Ding! Redemption successful. Current balance: 0. You have received 10 Silver Chests. Would you like to open them now?
The points he'd schemed so hard to get from Sengoku vanished in an instant.
Luoyu rubbed his nose and stared at the chests.
According to the system, Silver Chests could yield rewards up to Gold-tier rarity.
But expecting a game-breaking power-up?
That was wishful thinking.
He'd already extorted Kaido just to find Whitebeard's location.
Knowing Kaido's temper, retaliation was only a matter of time.
If Luoyu wanted to survive, he needed to get stronger—fast.
Whether it was for fighting or slacking off, strength was the only thing that let you bend the rules.
His only regret?
The system still hadn't told him how to upgrade Silver Chests to Gold.
If it had, he might've gambled even harder.
He shook off the thought and looked at the ten chests.
Gold was out of reach.
But he still believed in the sacred law of gacha: "Ten pulls guarantee at least one decent drop."
"System, open all the Silver Chests."
Ding! Please wait…
Ding! Congratulations, Host. Opening Silver Chests…
You've received 100 Power Points!
You've received 100 Power Points!
You've received 100 Power Points!
You've received 100 Power Points!
…
The same message echoed again and again.
Luoyu's face twitched.
Was the system just copy-pasting now?
Couldn't it at least throw in a long one?
Did it just scam all ten chests?
Sure, Power Points were essential in the Sea King's world.
But after all that effort tricking Sengoku…
If all he got was a thousand measly points?
That was daylight robbery.
Grumbling, Luoyu scrolled through the reward log.
And then—at the ninth entry—his eyes lit up.
Finally! A long one! The copy-paste curse was broken!
After eight identical drops, he'd been ready to punch something.
But now, at least one prize stood out.
Floating in his mental space was a slender, 1.5-meter-long katana, its blade gleaming with a cold light.
Its name?
Monohoshizao—a bizarrely named sword.
Luoyu frowned.
If he remembered right, this was the weapon of Sasaki Kojirō, the legendary swordsman summoned in the Holy Grail War from Fate.
A man hailed as a Sword Saint.
As his personal blade, Monohoshizao might not look like much, but in the Sea King's world, it could easily rival a Supreme Grade sword.
In the hands of any swordmaster, it would be a treasure.
Luoyu, however, could only smile bitterly.
If I'd known I'd get a legendary sword dropped on my head, I would've trained more with Bogard.
Now he had a top-tier blade… and the sword skills of a drunken crab.
If Sasaki Kojirō knew his sacred sword was being used as a glorified fishing rod, he'd probably flip his coffin.
With only a year's worth of half-baked sword training, Luoyu was pretty sure he couldn't beat anyone with it.
Still, he reached out and grasped the blade.
And the moment his fingers closed around the hilt, his eyes flew open in shock.
A warm, familiar energy surged into his mind.
And then—he saw it.
The tenth reward.
The real jackpot.