Aria's Pov
Of course I realized after my little epiphany that it wasn't going to be as easy as teleporting to these characters, telling them I wanted to bone and we actually fucking.
I need a strategy if I didn't want to get a bounty on my head and being thrown into Impel down for mass harassment, assuming the Marines even care about things like that.
Like actually getting close to these characters before trying to bone them. And since I was already in Water 7, I might as well start here.
I had my eye on some characters here and the only way I could achieve my mission was by first getting a job at the Gallery La.
That should be easy enough.
Not.
If hell had an interview process, it would probably look exactly like this.
I strutted into Gallery La like I had every right to be there—because confidence was half the battle, wasn't it? That's what every conwoman in every movie ever said. My only problem was I didn't have a single shipbuilding skill in my body. I couldn't even hammer a nail straight. But that wasn't going to stop me. No, ma'am. I was going to wrangle my way into this tight-knit shipyard no matter what.
The lobby smelled of sawdust and grease. Shipwrights clattered around with planks of wood on their shoulders like muscle-bound ants, and the sound of hammers echoed from somewhere deeper inside. Everyone here looked strong, capable, and—well—like they actually belonged. Meanwhile, I looked like someone who had wandered in from the marketplace with the faint smell of fresh bread still clinging to her hair.
Perfect.
I slapped my hand on the counter where a young clerk was scribbling into a logbook. "Hello! I'd like to register as a worker here."
The clerk blinked up at me like I had just announced I wanted to join the Marines by waltzing into their bathroom. "...You? Who even are you?"
I straightened, gave my most radiant smile, and said, "I'm a passionate person."
That got me a flat stare. "Do you have any shipbuilding experience?"
"Not… exactly."
"Any carpentry skills?"
"Define carpentry."
The man set down his pen, pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed like I had just ruined his entire day. "Listen, miss, this is the number one shipyard in Water 7. We don't just let strangers wander in. You need years of training—apprenticeships, proven skill—"
"Oh, don't worry," I cut him off brightly. "I can learn. I adapt quickly. And I'm very, very passionate."
He wasn't impressed. Neither was the man hammering nearby who muttered something under his breath about "idiots wasting everyone's time."
I put my hands on my hips. "Okay, let me guess. You're going to say no because: one, I don't have an identity card. Two, I don't have muscles the size of tree trunks. Three, I'm a girl. Four, I didn't magically spring out of the womb holding a hammer. Did I miss anything?"
The clerk's jaw dropped. Around us, a couple of shipwrights actually paused mid-saw to snicker. Good. Step one of manipulation: embarrass the bureaucrat.
He spluttered, "It's—it's not about that. It's about skill—"
"Oh, skill?" I clutched my chest dramatically. "Do you mean the skill of hauling wood? The skill of tightening bolts? I think I can manage not to faint from carrying a plank across a room, thanks."
That got a laugh from one of the shipwrights in the corner.
The clerk's face went red. "You don't understand—"
"Don't I?" I leaned in, lowering my voice. "I understand perfectly. You're terrified someone like me might come in and shake up your cozy little boy's club. Admit it."
That set off a ripple of whispers. Men side-eyed each other. Someone coughed. The clerk opened his mouth, closed it again, then finally barked, "Enough! You can't just stroll in here with nothing to offer—"
"Oh, I have plenty to offer," I purred.
I had absolutely nothing to offer. But that wasn't the point.
Before I could keep digging my grave, the sound of boots on wood drew my attention. A hush spread through the lobby as a group of men entered—tall, broad, and sharp-eyed. Even I felt my stomach twist.
Rob Lucci. Kaku. Blueno. Tilestone.
They weren't "CP9" yet in anyone's eyes but mine, but my skin prickled all the same. My devil fruit ability wasn't going to charm me out of this mess, and I knew it. I forced myself to stay composed even as my brain screamed, holy crap, that's Lucci.
"...What's the commotion?" Lucci's pigeon asked for him.
The clerk jabbed a finger at me. "This crazy woman wants a job. She doesn't know the first thing about shipbuilding."
Lucci's gaze slid over me like I was an insect on the wall. Kaku tilted his head curiously, while Blueno looked like he was already imagining throwing me out the window.
I straightened under their scrutiny. "I'm not crazy. I'm passionate."
"Passion doesn't build ships," Mr pigeon said.
"Neither does having the personality of a wet plank," I shot back before I could stop myself.
A collective gasp rippled through the room. Half the shipwrights froze like I had just challenged a sea king to a duel.
Lucci's brow twitched—barely. Kaku chuckled under his breath.
Blueno muttered, "Throw her out."
And honestly? That was exactly where this was going. I could already see two burly shipwrights stepping forward to drag me by the arms. My heart pounded—I had pushed this far, but maybe I had miscalculated—
"...What's going on here?"
The crowd shifted, parting like the sea as Iceburg himself stepped out of the back office. His blue hair caught the sunlight, and Kalifa walked beside him, immaculate as ever with her glasses glinting.
Great. Now I was about to be personally escorted into the canal by the mayor of Water 7.
But instead of scolding, Iceburg tilted his head at me with mild curiosity. "What's the problem?"
"She's trying to force her way into a job," Kaku said flatly.
Iceburg hummed, gaze flicking from me to the flustered clerk, then back. A slow smile tugged at his lips. "If she wants to work, let her."
I blinked. "...Wait, really?"
Iceburg shrugged. "If she feels it's too much, she can leave. We always need extra hands, even if it's just for errands."
Kalifa adjusted her glasses. "She'll probably mostly be assisting me. Paperwork. Deliveries. Organizing files. Nothing to do with shipbuilding."
"Perfect," I blurted, nodding so fast my neck almost snapped. "That's exactly what I wanted."
It wasn't. But who cared? Step one of my brilliant plan was officially complete. I was in.
The clerk looked like he had swallowed a nail. Lucci gave me one last unreadable stare before turning away, and Kaku actually waved like we were old friends. Kalifa, meanwhile, handed me a stack of papers that looked heavier than my dignity.
"Welcome to Gallery La," she said coolly.
I grinned like the cat that had finally clawed its way into the fish market. Oh, this was going to be fun.