Carlo felt no need to play the gentleman in front of this full-figured beauty exuding mature allure.
His eyes, filled with artistic appreciation, openly roamed Charlotte Linlin's graceful curves—
—provided one automatically ignored the gluttonous, bloated hag that occasionally surfaced in his mind. The woman seated opposite him, nearly three times his height, was none other than Charlotte Linlin herself, his host.
At twenty-four she was already a veteran of the Rocks Pirates, second only to White and Gold.
She had occupied the post of Third Division Captain for several years.
Newcomers had tried to unseat her more than once.
Yet every challenger—Wang Zhi, Gan Sui, Stussy, and others—had been effortlessly crushed by this lone woman.
Her overwhelming strength had made her world-famous long ago.
Within the Rocks Pirates and across the New World seas, no one dared underestimate her.
And Carlo, the transmigrator who knew exactly what she would become, certainly didn't.
After all, this was the future Big Mom, one of the Four Emperors who would rule Totto Land's dozens of islands and command tens of thousands of pirates.
Hearing the name Linlin from Carlo's lips,
Charlotte Linlin's smile grew even sweeter.
"Praising you should make you happy. You know, there aren't many people in the world who receive praise from Mama."
"Happy?" Carlo lifted the huge oak tankard and took several long swallows. "No, I'm too busy being scared."
"Scared?" Charlotte Linlin blinked, then gave a coquettish laugh. "What are you afraid of? Surely you don't think I'm going to eat you?"
Carlo gave her a meaningful look. "Hard to say."
"Mamamama~, you're amusing. Not like those old sticks Rocks and Newgate—no sense of fun at all."
Charlotte Linlin straightened her long frame and stretched languidly.
At that moment the empty cup in front of Carlo sprouted two pairs of tiny arms and legs.
A cute face appeared on its surface; humming an unknown tune, it toddled to the nearby bottle and tapped it.
"The guest's drink is gone, hurry up and pour!"
A chime rang out.
"Please wait a moment." A meter-tall bottle also produced a simple, smiling face. It bent and poured amber liquor into the cup.
The cup then wobbled back to Carlo, stood on tiptoe, and tilted its head up at him.
"Enjoy, honored guest."
"Thanks." Carlo, unfazed by the living tableware, took a sip and set the cup down.
The cup's face flushed bright red at being thanked.
"N-no need, it's my duty."
Blushing, it hummed happily and toddled back toward the bottle—only to be seized mid-air by a huge hand.
"Aah! Mama, no!" the cup shrieked in terror.
"Flirting with my guest right in front of me, you little hussy—do you want to die?" Charlotte Linlin snarled.
She held the shrieking cup in one hand and with the other yanked a writhing wisp of black smoke from it, popping it into her mouth and swallowing with a gulp!
At the sight, bowls, chopsticks, bottles, even the table and chairs paled and trembled.
Only when Charlotte Linlin coldly waved them off did the strange objects resume their cheerful singing.
"Sorry you had to see that," she said with a smile.
Carlo shrugged. "No problem—as long as you're happy."
These singing, dancing furnishings were Charlotte Linlin's handiwork.
With the Soul-Soul Fruit she could bestow souls on inanimate objects, creating these anthropomorphic Homies.
Where those souls came from was anyone's guess.
Carlo sipped his drink and chatted idly, his gaze drifting to the side.
In the vast courtyard a dozen children of various sizes were laughing and playing.
The eldest—a sharp-nosed boy—was only seven.
The smallest were still crawling in diapers.
Indeed,
every child romping in Charlotte Linlin's yard was her own.
Gloriosa had been right: this woman gave birth by the litter.
Among the four- and five-year-olds Carlo spotted several familiar faces.
The sharp-nosed eldest had to be Charlotte Linlin's first son—Perospero.
The grinning kid with a mouthful of fangs could only be Katakuri.
Noticing Carlo's attention on her brood, Charlotte Linlin's eyes sparkled. "Carlo, what do you think of my children?"
"They're excellent—rare talents. They'll be outstanding when they grow up," he answered casually.
"Oh? You think so too?" Her gaze softened, her smile brightening.
Carlo watched the playing children.
He hadn't been flattering her.
Charlotte Linlin's offspring might vary in natural gifts,
lagging behind the heirs of other top powerhouses,
but they were still exceptional—and she had sheer numbers on her side.
Perospero, Oven, Daifuku, Katakuri, Smoothie, and others could become mainstays of any of the Four Emperor crews or even the Marines.
"Which of them will be the most successful?" she asked.
"That little one." Carlo pointed without hesitation.
Charlotte Linlin followed his finger.
Among the frolicking kids a red-haired boy with a terrifying split mouth and sharp teeth stood out like a crane among chickens—
the very child Carlo had indicated.
"Katakuri?" she blinked. "Why him and not Perospero? He's my eldest."
She helpfully pointed out Perospero.
Carlo set down his cup. "Because he's the only one among them who has Haoshoku."
"Haoshoku?" Charlotte Linlin stared, bewildered, at the four-year-old Katakuri scaring his siblings, then back at Carlo. "Katakuri has it? Really? How can you tell?"
She genuinely hadn't known.
Aside from his noticeable mouth, four-year-old Katakuri hadn't displayed anything special,
and his Haoshoku had not yet awakened.
Carlo: "It's a unique intuition. I can spot anyone with Haoshoku potential at a glance."
Of course—
the manga had made it clear who possessed it; how could he mistake it?
Seeing Carlo's certainty, Charlotte Linlin half believed.
But hearing that Katakuri had the potential delighted her.
She beckoned the boy. "Katakuri, come here."
"Yes, Mama." The meter-tall child scurried over on stubby legs.
He looked up, sniffed, and grinned, appearing a bit simple.
Curious, he glanced at Carlo and then asked his smiling mother a question that left Carlo dumbfounded: "Mama, is he our new Papa?"