After King and Katakuri left, a charming figure stormed out from behind Takero, her mood clearly sour.
"Master!" Monet pouted, her usually sly emerald eyes now filled with undisguised jealousy and displeasure. "I have a bad feeling about that guy Katakuri and the long-legged woman he brought with him. They're definitely up to no good!"
Takero turned and couldn't help but laugh at her adorable display. She looked like a little cat protecting its food, with all its fur standing on end. He reached out and pinched her soft, smooth cheek, teasing her gently. "What's this? Are you getting jealous?"
"I… I am not!" Monet's face immediately turned red. She tried to turn away from Takero's intense gaze and mumbled her denial, but her soft voice had no conviction.
A playful smile spread across Takero's lips. He suddenly tightened his grip, turning Monet's face back towards his own and forcing her to meet his eyes. They were so close that they could feel the warmth of each other's breath. The strong, dominant scent of a man, unique to Takero, surrounded Monet completely.
"Don't worry, my little maid," Takero's voice was low and playful. "I haven't forgotten about you." He looked into her emerald eyes, which were now watery with a mix of nervousness and shyness, and whispered in her ear like a devil's murmur, "Just wait... until you've developed a little more. That will be the day the fruit is ripe for picking."
Boom!
Monet felt as if her brain had short-circuited. It went completely blank. His handsome face was so close, his voice was so magnetic, and his words were so suggestive. She felt the blood rush through her veins, and a strange, tingling sensation shot from her head to her toes. Her body went weak, and she could barely stand.
"Mas... Master..." she moaned unconsciously, her voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz.
"Cough! Ahem!"
Just as the atmosphere grew more intense and Monet felt like she was about to faint from happiness, a slightly helpless cough came from the side. Nico Robin simply couldn't watch them anymore.
Takero, looking a bit disappointed that the moment was over, let go of Monet's face and straightened up. Without his support, Monet's knees buckled, and she slumped onto the carpet. Her face was as red as a ripe apple, and she was panting heavily, a dazed look in her eyes.
Takero then turned his attention to the "culprit" who was now pretending to admire the scenery—Nico Robin. He grinned, and in a flash, he was standing behind her. Before she could react, he reached out and gave her firm, rounded bottom a playful squeeze.
"Don't worry, Maid Number Two," he said with a grin. "You'll get your turn, too."
Robin's body stiffened for a second. She turned her head, a charming blush appearing on her usually calm and intellectual face. She shot Takero a look of disapproval but didn't try to stop him. Deep within her blue eyes, a subtle flicker of anticipation could be seen.
Not far away, Reiju watched the entire scene unfold. A complex mix of envy and sadness crossed her face. When, she wondered, will I be able to be as close to 'Dad' as Monet and Robin are?
As Takero got older and his body matured, he naturally started thinking about more "adult" matters. However, Sora's body was still too frail to handle his incredible, superhuman power. For now, he could only turn his attention to Robin and Monet, the two "little fruits" who were growing up nicely. It wouldn't be long now.
A little while later, after the suggestive atmosphere in the living room had finally settled, Tesoro appeared in the doorway. "Boss," he said, reporting on the final preparations. "Everything is ready. The World Martial Arts Tournament will start on time tomorrow." He paused, his tone becoming more serious. "However… this tournament is probably going to be a tough one. According to our latest count, the number of registered participants is more than double the last one! Contestants have come from all over the world. We've even discovered that agents from the Marines and the World Government's CP agencies have infiltrated the event in disguise. We don't know what their goal is."
After two successful tournaments, the "World Martial Arts Tournament" had become the most popular fighting event in the entire world. The massive prize money and the honor of becoming famous overnight—with a chance to join the Golden Group's inner circle—attracted countless powerful fighters.
Takero wasn't surprised by the event's popularity. "It doesn't matter what their purpose is," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "As long as I'm here, none of it will be a problem."
"Yes!" Tesoro's face filled with pride. This was his boss, an absolute king who could crush any conspiracy or threat.
Takero then remembered something else. "By the way, Tesoro," he said with a smile. "I heard you and that girl Stella are planning to get married after the tournament. Congratulations. I'll get you a big wedding gift."
Tesoro's face lit up with a genuinely happy, slightly embarrassed smile. He scratched his head and quickly thanked him. Thinking back on the last few years—from being a nobody struggling to survive to becoming the "Golden Emperor" who dominated the business world of North Blue—it all felt like an incredible dream. He knew he owed it all to one thing: following the right person.
He sighed inwardly, then bowed again. "Boss, I'll take my leave. I need to finalize the opening ceremony for tomorrow."
Takero waved him off. After Tesoro left, Takero was the only one left in the massive living room. He walked out onto the terrace and looked down at the bustling, brightly lit island below, which looked like a city that never sleeps. For some reason, he let out a soft sigh. As his strength continued to grow, he realized there were fewer and fewer people in this world who could give him a truly satisfying fight. It had been a long time since he'd felt the thrill of a real battle, like the one he'd had with Zephyr all those years ago. The original reason for starting the tournament had been to satisfy that desire for a challenge.
Takero looked up at the bright moon in the night sky.
I hope this tournament, he thought to himself, can bring me some real fun.
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