"Uu-uuuh … Captain, you're okay! Thank goodness!"
"Carmen was so scared—this ocean is terrifying! Uuuh…"
Hearing the girl's trembling voice, Arthur felt a pang in his chest.
He slipped an arm around her shoulders and drew her close, gently stroking the loose waves of her hair.
"There, there. The captain's back now. As long as I'm here, nothing will happen, okay?"
"Mm-hmm… sniffle…"
She was still crying softly, but the fear had already begun to fade from her eyes.
When Arthur finally looked up, his gaze fell on the three men watching awkwardly from the side.
The reproach in his eyes was enough to make all of them flinch.
Crocodile instantly turned away, puffing his cigar like nothing had happened.
Waldo scratched his head.
"Boss, we really couldn't help it. Out here on the open sea, me and Crocodile are both Devil Fruit users—we're dead weight in the water!
The Earl had to protect the ship and fight off the sea beasts at the same time. He was stretched thin."
Arthur sighed. He couldn't blame them.
Every man on his crew was an ability user—if Redfield ever ate a Devil Fruit too, it'd be even worse.
I need someone who can handle the sea itself, he thought. Someone who can swim.
After a long while, Carmen's breathing evened out. She refused to leave his arms, though, and eventually drifted to sleep right there.
Guess that's the price of being this handsome and dependable, he thought wryly.
He carried her to her cabin and laid her down, then stepped out to tally their gains.
To keep any more sea monsters from sniffing around, he wrapped a thin field of current around the outer coating bubble. The moment he did, every creature with sharp instincts fled far away from the Golden Scale.
Despite the chaos at Sabaody, the trip had been worth it.
More than twenty billion Berries glittered in the ship's vault when he poured it all out.
Piles upon piles of gold.
Even the usually stoic men couldn't help grinning like fools.
Money really is magic, Arthur mused. No one can stay gloomy staring at that much shine.
Once they locked the vault again, Waldo reported on the supplies.
Using the funds borrowed from Rayleigh earlier, they'd stocked the Golden Scale to the brim—food, spare parts, luxuries, even Redfield's favorite red wine and Crocodile's top-shelf cigars.
Everything a first-rate crew could want.
Then Crocodile opened the storage locker and pulled out something Arthur had ordered.
Five black cloaks—sleek, heavy, with purple lightning motifs curling where crimson clouds might once have been.
He'd modeled them after the "Akatsuki robes" he'd always liked in his previous life.
Everyone received one and changed out of Rayleigh's old gray coats.
It was remarkable what a uniform could do.
With matching robes, they suddenly looked like a real crew—disciplined, unified, dangerous.
Redfield, especially, looked like he'd stepped out of a gothic portrait—an aristocratic vampire bathed in moonlight.
All he needed now was that Mythical Zoan: Vampire Fruit, and the image would be complete.
Carmen, thoughtful as ever, had also bought each of them new outfits.
Waldo's battered hat and dented armor were the first to go—she'd found replacements that gleamed.
He hugged them like treasures, eyes sparkling.
Redfield, Crocodile, and Arthur each received tailored suits made from premium fabric—sharp lines, flexible weave, stylish yet functional.
One by one they tried them on, crowding around the mirror like kids in a candy shop.
Waldo, of course, couldn't resist flexing his biceps at his reflection—
until Arthur kicked him across the room.
"This girl's got taste," Redfield murmured, admiring his reflection. "The cut is exquisite."
"Not bad," Arthur agreed, straightening his collar. "But then again, it's hard to make me look bad."
"Pfft! Come on, Boss," Waldo laughed, brushing dust off his shoulder.
"You've got that soft skin and baby face—hardly manly at all!"
BOOM!
A surge of Conqueror's Haki erupted from Arthur, slamming into Waldo like a hammer.
The big man toppled backward, eyes wide.
"I-I was wrong! You're very manly, Captain! Too manly! Turn it off, please!"
Arthur let the pressure fade, smirking.
"You know," he said lazily, "I was going to reward you for what you went through being auctioned off like that.
But now… I'm reconsidering."
He slipped a hand into his robe, drawing from his system space two pistols forged entirely of gold.
They gleamed like twin suns in his grip.
Waldo's jaw dropped.
"Whoa… gorgeous!"
For years he'd been hurling rocks and fists—never had he held weapons like these.
"Heh-heh, Captain, mind if I take a closer look?"
"You're such a manly guy," Arthur said blandly. "Find your own."
"I was wrong, Boss! Young, brilliant, mighty Captain! May your harem be vast and your beard forever thick—"
"Enough!" Arthur groaned. "You sound like an idiot."
He tossed the pistols over.
"They're yours. Make good use of them."
"Yes, sir! You won't regret it!"
Waldo beamed, spinning the twin guns in his hands like a child on New Year's morning.
Redfield had his sword Thunder Rain, Waldo now had his dual pistols—
things were coming together.
Only Arthur himself still lacked a weapon.
Maybe the system would provide something fitting soon.
He turned toward Crocodile with a teasing grin.
"Redfield's armed, Waldo's armed… Crocodile, looks like it's your turn."
Crocodile's eyes gleamed at once, cigar pausing midway to his lips.
"Heh… what, my turn already?"
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