"I never planned on making you do the heavy lifting, Robin."
Don turned to her with a light smile.
"This is just... part of your training."
Robin blinked. So it's still labor, isn't it?
Tom and the others waited patiently nearby while the two spoke. When Don finally turned his attention back to them, Tom asked,
"The ship's ram bow hasn't been fitted yet. What kind of design do you have in mind?"
The fish-man pointed toward the front of the ship, waiting for Don's opinion.
"What do you think?" Don turned to Robin — after all, she was one of the more important members of his crew.
"Well..." Robin tilted her head thoughtfully, her gaze falling on the two masks she held in her hands.
Seeing this, Don snapped his fingers and looked at Tom.
"A rose. I want a rose carved on the prow."
A flower?
Robin froze mid-thought, while Tom and his apprentices exchanged curious looks. Still, it was Don's ship — and if the man wanted a rose, no one would question it.
Tom immediately ordered Franky and the others to begin the work.
"This ship's materials are identical to the ones used in the Pirate King Roger's vessel," Tom said, his voice tinged with pride. "Though this one's even more advanced. After all, Roger's ship was built many years ago."
He looked at the vessel with nostalgia. "This will likely be the last ship I ever build."
"You're not planning to leave?" Don asked, puzzled by the tone in Tom's voice.
"Water 7's shipyard is my life's work." The fish-man sighed and met Don's eyes. "I'm grateful for your help, but... the World Government won't let me go so easily."
Robin frowned. "That's strange. The Navy didn't go after all of Roger's crew, so why target you — a shipwright?"
"This..." Tom hesitated, forcing a bitter smile.
"Because he's weak. Easy target," Don said flatly.
"Ah, that makes sense," Robin nodded in agreement.
Tom: "..."
Well... they weren't wrong.
"So," Robin said, eyeing the brand-new ship, "what are you going to name her?"
Don looked up at the vessel, his expression thoughtful.
"The Don — Rose Hunter."
"'Rose Hunter'?" Robin raised a brow. "Does the rose mean something special?"
"The rose of the poor," Don said quietly, hands clasped behind his back. "It symbolizes willpower... and one's final blaze of glory."
The name came from a memory of an anime he'd watched before crossing worlds — the "Rose of Poverty," a symbol of defiance and courage before death.
"Hmm, sounds a bit ominous," Robin said with a half-smile. "But it does have a nice ring to it."
Don shrugged. "A name's just a name. What do you think?"
"I like it. It even connects to my ability."
As she spoke, two arms bloomed from her shoulders — then scattered into petals.
Tom, used to strange sights by now, didn't even blink.
"Should I engrave the name onto the hull?" he asked.
"No need." Don waved a hand dismissively, then turned to him again. "I plan to establish a Hunter's Guild. Eventually, we'll need many ships."
Tom tilted his head, confused.
"Rather than wait here for the World Government's agents to come, why not join the guild?" Don said casually.
Tom frowned. "You do realize I'm already on their wanted list."
"Don't worry about that," Don replied with a smirk. "The World Government has bigger fish to fry."
That... didn't sound very reassuring.
Still, Tom couldn't deny it — Don's power was undeniable. A man like him could stand tall even in the New World.
"I understand. I'll think about it carefully."
"What's there to think about?" Robin interjected. "You want to die here instead?"
Tom sighed. "This isn't just about me."
He glanced toward his apprentices.
"All the better," Robin said smoothly. "Bring them all along. It's just a name under the guild."
Tom blinked at her, then at Don. They want the whole shipyard?!
"The ship's big enough to hold plenty of people," Don said, already stepping aboard. "Think it over before we set sail."
Robin followed him up the gangplank, her steps light.
Tom stood frozen in silence, his expression hardening.
The blueprints for Pluton... this isn't over.
The World Government wouldn't rest until they had them. Even if he died, his apprentices would be targeted next.
"That fish-man doesn't seem too eager," Robin remarked as she wandered the deck beside Don.
"It's fine," Don said nonchalantly. "We'll need shipwrights for the guild anyway. If he refuses, Crocodile can find someone else."
"You really like passing your work onto others, don't you?"
"Of course. Why make things harder for myself? That's what Crocodile's for."
Robin sighed. "Yes, yes, everything you say is right, Guild Master."
"Naturally. Crocodile handles the chores. You, my dear secretary Nico Robin, handle the paperwork."
He grinned, perfectly content to do nothing.
Robin nearly tripped. Secretary?
Excuse me? I'm older than you!
She swallowed her retort — he'd only twist it into something absurd anyway.
"What a spacious ship," she murmured instead, walking along the polished deck.
Though smaller than some grand vessels, it was far larger — and far more complete — than their last ship.
At last, they could travel the seas in comfort.
END OF CHAPTER
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