After clashing with the Trump Pirates on that island, we wasted no time heading for Clockwork Island.
Waiting for us there… well, as expected, were the Trump Pirates themselves.
Dozens of fighters swarmed the area, with several officers mixed in.
"Hmph… so you're the girl Honey Queen was talking about, eh?"
"She doesn't look like much. Maybe Boojack and the others just got careless and slipped up."
"That's nonsense! Hmph! Skunk One, Pin Joker—if you don't believe me, then charge in yourselves and see what happens!"
"Hey, Boojack, you've got it wrong! We're the ones who'll teach that girl a lesson…!"
A swordsman dressed like a clown with a scar across his face. A gaunt man in an ill-fitting suit.
And there they were—the round, hulking giant and the seductive blonde beauty I'd fought the other day. So they'd regrouped and returned here after all.
As for the rest, the rank-and-file pirates wore outfits modeled after playing cards. They looked absurdly impractical. I honestly wondered if they could even fight properly dressed like that.
Before coming here, I'd looked into the Trump Pirates.
Their core leadership consisted of five members, including their captain, "Bear King." All of them were wanted criminals.
And four of them were already present. Let's see—Pin Joker, Skunk One, Boojack, and Honey Queen. Whether those were real names or just codenames, I had no idea.
Apparently, a lookout had spotted me arriving on the island. They recognized me as the one who'd beaten Boojack and Honey Queen, and the entire crew—including the officers—had mobilized to intercept me.
So they were taking me seriously, at least. Even if some of their comments were still dripping with arrogance.
"Hmph… Boojack and Honey Queen made such a fuss that they dragged everyone out here, but this is obvious overkill. You don't use a bow to butcher a chicken."
"If you're using that analogy, it's a cleaver, not a bow. Still, Pin Joker's right, gase. This is just a gang beatdown, gase. Let's wrap it up and leave, gase."
As expected.
Boojack and Honey Queen exchanged a glance, clearly thinking, They're still underestimating her. But with sheer numbers on their side, they seemed convinced they couldn't possibly lose. Without further argument, they took up their stances.
At Pin Joker's shout of "Attack!", the assault began.
Trump Pirate soldiers charged forward, swords and guns at the ready.
Boojack activated his spiked armor and rolled toward me like a living cannonball. Skunk One blasted himself into the air with gas erupting from the back of his suit. Honey Queen liquefied her legs and slipped around behind me. Pin Joker drew his blade while flicking a poisoned needle into his hand.
Their attacks converged all at once—
Thump.
Thump.
"…And that's where we are now."
A moment later, the battlefield was silent.
The Trump Pirates lay scattered across the ground, eyes rolled back, all unconscious.
Not just the grunts—every single officer as well. Honestly, how did people like this ever get so full of themselves?
At first, I'd considered giving them a proper fight like before—close combat, maybe even using my umbrella. But halfway through, it all just felt like too much trouble.
Dragging things out would've been pointless. No reward, no meaning. I lost interest.
So in the end, I released a little Conqueror's Haki.
Instant knockout.
Looking off into the distance, I noticed ordinary people huddled together, watching in stunned silence.
Ah. The people of Clockwork Island—the ones who'd been living under the Trump Pirates' rule.
They'd been bracing themselves for a brutal massacre… only for the pirates to collapse without warning. No wonder they looked completely dumbfounded.
Sorry, but explanations can wait.
Next up was Bear King.
If I remembered correctly, he lived in the island's highest castle—the one perched atop that massive screw.
Alright. Let's go.
And so…
"Guh… i-impossible… my steel-hard body… beaten by some little girl…?!"
A massive figure lay crumpled before me, his crown shaped like a bear's head dented and askew.
The captain of the Trump Pirates—Bear King.
Already dealt with.
Honestly, it would've taken effort not to overpower someone with only a ten-million-Berry bounty.
Apparently, he was a Clank-Clank Fruit user, capable of turning his body into steel. But steel bodies aren't exactly rare.
Zoan users can train their bodies to that level, and Marines or Cipher Pol agents can achieve similar hardness with Iron Body alone.
Being able to move freely while maintaining steel hardness might sound impressive, but anyone who believes steel-level defense makes them invincible is delusional.
On the Grand Line—especially in the New World—there are countless people who can slice through steel or shatter it with a single blow. Even more so with Haki.
The only thing that caught me off guard was his arm heating up to a red-hot glow when he charged.
Heat and fire are my weaknesses.
Still, as long as I dodged, it wasn't a problem. After that, it was pure domination.
And during the fight, I noticed it—the Diamond Clock.
The world's most expensive automaton clock.
It really was magnificent. Massive diamonds, exquisite craftsmanship. The precision of its internal mechanisms must be astounding.
…Though the clock face was oddly hard to read. Not very practical, all things considered.
After admiring it briefly, I restrained Bear King and took the elevator back down to the village.
From there, it was just cleanup.
I explained everything to the villagers and asked them to handle the rest.
"Due to personal reasons, I've wiped out the Trump Pirates," I told them. "Please contact the Marines and have them arrested."
At first, the suddenness of their freedom left them stunned. Then they began to embrace one another, tears streaming down their faces.
I also told them I had no interest in the pirates' treasure and was leaving it all behind for the island's use.
Their gratitude was overwhelming.
As thanks, they gifted me various clockwork gadgets—Clockwork Island's specialty—and even offered to craft custom items for me, as long as I covered the costs.
Their technological expertise was impressive. I'd made a valuable connection.
After that, we slipped away before the Marines arrived.
All in all, it was chaotic. Fights with weirdos, pointless trouble… but also rare sights and fascinating rewards.
In the end, it was pretty satisfying.
---
Several months later…
I had business to attend to, so I briefly returned to the Grand Line.
On one island, I encountered… a completely changed Honey Queen.
I was fishing by a river, planning to grill my catch, when I felt eyes watching me from the shadows.
I assumed it was an animal—or maybe a thief—so I went to investigate.
Instead, I found a blonde woman who looked vaguely familiar.
Gone was her glamorous attire. She wore only tattered scraps of cloth. Her hair was a tangled mess, her face bare, filthy, and unwashed—as if she hadn't bathed in ages.
It was a miracle I recognized her at all.
As I stood there in shock, she realized who I was—the one who'd destroyed the Trump Pirates, and the person she'd foolishly challenged.
Her legs gave out.
She immediately began begging for her life, spitting out pleas in a desperate torrent: I'll do anything! Please save me! Don't kill me! Forgive me! Please!
By then, I wasn't even angry anymore. I'd nearly forgotten the whole thing.
So I listened.
She looked starving, so I handed her a fish.
Sobbing uncontrollably, she devoured it while telling me what she'd been through.
She'd escaped from a Marine prison ship and ended up on the Grand Line.
And then reality hit.
The Grand Line was nothing like the Four Blues. Pirates, traffickers, bounty hunters—she spent her days running, hiding, terrified.
Capture meant death, torture, or slavery.
Even with a modest bounty of 7.8 million, she was still hunted. And Grand Line bounty hunters treated twenty or thirty million like pocket change.
The Marines pursued her relentlessly as well.
Every one of them was far beyond her strength. The bravado she'd once had in the East Blue was long gone.
Her only lifeline was her Logia Devil Fruit.
In the First Half of the Grand Line, Haki users were rare, and Seastone weapons even rarer.
That made Logia users practically untouchable—at least there.
Of course, that arrogance would get someone killed instantly in the New World.
Thanks to her Logia abilities, she survived—but she'd never mastered them.
A true Logia user can transform clothing along with their body. She couldn't. Boojack used to carry her clothes for her.
Whenever she dodged attacks by liquefying, her clothes were destroyed—cut, burned, shot to pieces.
That was how she'd ended up in rags.
Such a waste of potential, especially for a rare Logia.
Feeling sorry for her, I took her to my inn, fed her, let her bathe, and gave her a place to sleep.
She cried as she thanked me.
Then she begged me not to leave her.
On her knees, naked and desperate, she pleaded for help.
As a woman, I found it pitiful rather than alluring.
But her determination to survive was unmistakable.
In the end, I helped her.
I spoke to Tesoro. He agreed to take her in.
Renamed "Honey," she started over as a low-level employee at Gran Tesoro.
Free from danger, she devoted herself to training—combat, work skills, Devil Fruit mastery.
Her growth was astonishing.
Now, she can even transform her clothes flawlessly.
I spar with her occasionally. She's easily worth forty million Berries by now.
And now she stands as a Senior Concierge at the Gran Tesoro.
…Which brings us back to the present.
"Huh? Lady, is something wrong? Why are you staring at me like that?"
"Oh, nothing. Honey, what's today's schedule?"
"…Right. Today, we start at ten with—"
To be continued...