Inside the green-hued dimensional space, Ryuuzaki pulled out the miniature camera hidden on his person and began snapping pictures of Dragon.
Yet again, the power of the Door-Door Fruit proved overwhelming, he could observe the outside world clearly from within the interdimensional realm.
Neither Dragon nor Ivankov had any idea they were being photographed.
The lighting wasn't ideal, but thanks to the bright moonlight that night, their outlines and features were still visible enough.
Dragon couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't pinpoint what it was.
"Ivankov, once we've collected the freshwater, we leave immediately."
Dragon remained alert, scanning the surroundings with sharp, almost paranoid eyes.
According to the intelligence Ryuuzaki had gathered, the World Government had already caught wind of Dragon's activities, some vague hints, scattered leads. The Revolutionary Army had always kept a low profile, and Dragon himself was notoriously elusive.
At this point in time, the World Government possessed only a tiny fraction of useful intel on them.
After securing the freshwater, Ivankov and his team quickly returned to their ship and set sail. The Revolutionary Army was still small and fragile, and Dragon's strategy was all about stealth. He had no intention of clashing head-on with the Government or the Marines.
"They're gone." Ryuuzaki instantly returned to Foosha Village and retrieved a transponder snail hidden deep within the forest. Without delay, he dialed Buck.
Brrrring. Brrrring.
Click.
"Ryuuzaki?"
"It's me."
"Calling this late… did you confirm Ace's identity?"
"No, not Ace. It's something else entirely."
"Oh?"
"I have a few photos I think you'll find... very interesting."
With that, Ryuuzaki sent the images he had just taken using the transponder snail's multifunctional fax feature.
When Buck saw the photos, he was stunned.
"Ryuuzaki, excellent work. This is huge. Where were these taken?"
"On a deserted island near Foosha Village. They left just a little while ago."
"Perfect. If anything else happens, keep me updated, "
"Wait, Director Buck."
"What is it?"
"I'm currently apprenticing at a blacksmith's shop, learning the craft. If it's possible, I'd like to request any reference books or materials related to forging and metallurgy..."
"No problem at all!" Buck replied immediately. "I'll have them sent over. Leave me a contact method."
"How about this, I've already asked a local merchant named Kacak to purchase books for me from outside the village. Just sell the materials to him directly."
"Got it. Anything else? Want me to assign someone to assist you?"
"No, that'll just draw attention."
"Very well."
After hanging up, Ryuuzaki carefully rehid the transponder snail and returned to his residence, slipping into a sweet and satisfied slumber.
To him, whether it was the Revolutionary Army or the World Government, they were all just pawns to be used.
He didn't care about these organizations. What truly mattered to him were the books, real, practical books about blacksmithing.
He wanted to refine his forging skills, study every known technique, and one day create a blade that surpassed even the Supreme Grade swords.
Maybe the world wouldn't know his name. But the greatest swordsmen would all wield blades forged by his hands, shaking the seas with his legend.
He thought of a certain phrase: "I'm not in the underworld, but the underworld is full of my tales."
Hell yeah, that was the vibe.
By noon the next day…
After forging a few kitchen knives in the workshop, Ryuuzaki was taking a lunch break.
Old man Samos lounged in his rocking chair, newspaper in hand. But his face didn't look too good.
"Samos, what's wrong?"
"Sigh… it's that kid, Dragon."
"Dragon?"
"Here, read it yourself." Samos handed him the paper.
It was the latest issue. Ryuuzaki skimmed the headline, eyebrows arching. Damn, he thought. That was fast.
The article painted Dragon as a heinous criminal who was recently cornered and gravely wounded by the Marines. His comrade, Ivankov, was reportedly captured.
Tch, Ryuuzaki scoffed inwardly. The Marines sure know how to make themselves look good.
Still, with such a massive achievement under his belt, he couldn't let the opportunity go to waste. Time to reap some benefits.
But then, should he go ahead and leak Bartholomew Kuma's info too?
No. Not yet.
He realized that doing so now would be shortsighted.
The Revolutionary Army was still weak. Any info leaked now wouldn't be worth much. If he waited until they became a real threat, until the World Government fully branded Dragon as the greatest enemy, then a well-timed leak would be worth its weight in gold.
"Let it ferment," Ryuuzaki chuckled. "Let the story ripen."
He knew how the World Government viewed him: a disposable tool.
Loyalty? Sure, if you had a death wish, try being loyal to them and see how that ends.
He hadn't forgotten how the kids who failed the original CP9 selection were executed one by one.
That kind of raw cruelty, he'd never forget.
One day, the other CP9 trainees would see it too.
When they were cast aside, when they had nowhere left to turn, they'd finally realize , the only ones they could count on were the companions who trained and bled beside them since childhood.
Ryuuzaki flipped the paper over.
"Hm? Donquixote Doflamingo? Isn't this guy being chased around the globe by Vice Admiral Tsuru?"
He shook his head and ignored it.
After finishing lunch, he went back to crafting knives.
A week passed.
By now, Ryuuzaki was essentially a full-fledged blacksmith. Samos was always off idling around the village tavern, gossiping with whoever would listen.
The smithy was basically Ryuuzaki's alone now.
"Excuse me, is anyone here?"
A woman's voice, not Makino's.
Still hammering steel, Ryuuzaki furrowed his brow and peeked out the window.
Outside stood an old woman and a young girl.
Oh hell no! Ryuuzaki's heart skipped a beat. He recognized that elderly woman, he absolutely did. That was none other than Tsuru, the Marine Headquarters' Chief of Staff.
Wait, wasn't she supposed to be chasing Doflamingo? What the hell is she doing in Foosha Village?
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200 P.S = 1 Extra Chapter