Watching how utterly fond Tenma was of her, Hancock felt as sweet as if she'd swallowed honey.
She subconsciously straightened her chest. Since Baby 5 was being taken in purely for her Devil Fruit ability, any lingering vigilance toward that girl was instantly tossed all the way to Pawpaw Kingdom.
The room grew quiet, broken only by Hancock's occasional soft murmurs.
Tenma greatly enjoyed this tranquil atmosphere.
Gazing at the delicate, alluring face in his arms—so ripe it seemed ready to be plucked—he made no move to disturb the moment.
Some fruits were best harvested only at their most mature and brilliant peak.
That said, since the topic of the Arms-Arms Fruit had come up, Tenma's thoughts inevitably drifted to Hancock's own choice of Devil Fruit.
Even without eating one, with her current mastery of advanced Armament Haki and physical combat, she could already run rampant across the seas.
Especially since, like Yamato, she possessed the potential to awaken Conqueror's Haki coating.
But if she could acquire a suitable Devil Fruit, both her tactical depth and upper limit of power would rise yet another tier.
Aside from Haki and kicks, Hancock's greatest "cheat" was her beauty—so overwhelming it could make men the world over go weak in the knees.
The most compatible fruit was naturally her original Love-Love Fruit, but perhaps there were other fruits out there that could create an even more wondrous chemical reaction with her beauty.
Of course, before any of that, he first had to get his hands on either the Swallow-Swallow Fruit or the Dark-Dark Fruit—that was the real key.
…
Only one day after the Fire Festival ended.
Information about the grand event—much like the Whole Cake Island incident back then—spread across the entire world at viral speed under the relentless push of the news king, Morgans.
Printing presses at major newspapers ran nonstop. Workers took shifts day and night, desperately increasing output.
Even so, the moment the papers hit the streets, they were instantly sold out.
There was no helping it—the news this time was simply too explosive.
That was a newly crowned Yonko, the Skyborne General who now shook the world!
And the nation he ruled was a legendary land said to be overflowing with wealth.
Because Wano had long remained a non-affiliated country, the outside world knew very little about it. Its air of mystery only heightened curiosity.
Coupled with the addition of the so-called "land of men's dreams," the all-female kingdom, the special Fire Festival edition completely crushed the sales records set when Big Mom first hosted her tea party.
Morgans knew exactly where the readers' pleasure points were.
The front page headlines were filled with eye-catching titles that made it impossible to look away:
[Six Regions on the Main Island—Four Seasons in One View! A Once-in-a-Lifetime Tourist Destination!]
[Confirmed: The New World's Granary! The Secret of the Wealthy Nation Lies in the Skyborne General's Reforms?!]
[The Fire Festival! An Annual Carnival! The Incalculable Depth of Wano Reveals Just the Tip of the Iceberg!]
[Lavish Tournament Rewards! The Skyborne General's Personal Promise—Custom-Forged Blades! Mythical Zoan Devil Fruits Given Away Freely!!]
[Great Swordmaster-Level Power! The Strongest Logia Lost for a Century—the Rumble-Rumble Fruit—Returns! Its User Is a Thirteen-Year-Old Girl!]
Line after line of bold black print, paired with high-definition, full-color photos from the scene—
Combined with Morgans' highly inflammatory prose, it instantly ignited readers' emotions.
Not only did it inform the world—it elevated Wano's prestige straight to the ceiling.
Under this wave of public opinion, forces such as the Shogun's Oniwabanshu under Tenma also skyrocketed in fame.
Together with the native powerhouses showcased in the tournament and the envy-inducing rewards, the entire world finally saw one undeniable truth:
This was indeed a superpower nation with the foundation of a Sea Emperor.
In an instant, the entire sea boiled over.
Though it wasn't war news, this kind of story—so close to everyday life yet drenched in legend—sparked even greater discussion.
On street corners, in taverns and teahouses, voices buzzed everywhere.
"This country's insane! It's even a food-exporting superpower—if I could be reborn there, I'd never worry about starving again!"
"Hah, it's just an illegal country. I bet it'll get wiped out by the Marines or another Yonko sooner or later."
"Hey, did you see those geisha photos? Damn, that's hot! But why's there no detailed report on that women-only country? I already took my pants off and you show me this?"
"Wait, is that thirteen-year-old girl for real? That luck's beyond ridiculous! A top-tier Logia, on the same level as those three Marine monsters!"
"Compared to that, the Skyborne General's generosity is what's really terrifying! A Mythical Zoan—rarer than a Logia—and he just gives it away as a prize?! That's not reckless… that's insane luxury!"
"I've decided! No matter how hard it is, I'm stowing away to Wano to seek my fortune!"
Envy, jealousy, yearning—every kind of emotion spread across the world alongside the newspapers.
The biggest impact of this report wasn't just flexing muscle—it planted an intense longing in countless hearts for that once-isolated nation.
Some sought stability, some sought strength, and others were simply conquered by Tenma's sheer magnanimity.
…
Somewhere in a remote corner of the Four Seas.
A man cloaked entirely in dark green stood by the window of a high tower, holding the newspaper about Wano in his hand.
The sea wind lifted his hood, revealing a pair of deep, penetrating eyes.
Behind him stood a towering figure with a deep purple afro and flamboyant fishnet stockings—
one of the Revolutionary Army's founders, Emporio Ivankov.
"Dragon-boy, since you're this interested, why not just take a trip to Wano yourself?"
Ivankov said, blinking eyes heavy with makeup.
As an old comrade, he knew Dragon's thoughts all too well.
A closed-off, impoverished nation just years ago—now utterly transformed because of one man's appearance.
For someone like Dragon, who sought to change the world, this held immense reference value and ideological impact.
Sure enough, Dragon nodded slightly, his voice low and firm.
"Indeed. I should find some time to visit that country personally."
Whether it was Wano's governance model with its high standard of living, or Gion's resolute decision to leave the Marines and join Tenma's camp—both stirred deep curiosity within him.
As his words fell, the wind outside the window seemed to shift.
As if even the wind itself were pointing the way, blowing toward distant Wano.
…
In the first half of the Grand Line, inside a raucous hunter's tavern.
The heavy wooden door creaked open, and a man carrying an enormous black blade stepped inside.
The noisy atmosphere was instantly muted, as if someone had hit a silence switch.
The people gathered here were bounty hunters who lived off rewards—they knew how to read the room.
If it were an ordinary powerhouse, someone would already be approaching with drinks and small talk.
But this man was different.
The legends he'd carved into the seas were far too terrifying—so terrifying that no one dared even speak to him.
Most bounty hunters had decent relations with the Marines, after all—they needed them to cash in rewards.
But the man named Dracule Mihawk was a different beast.
Pirates or Marines—it didn't matter. If he was in a bad mood, he'd cut them down all the same. He'd even earned the infamous title of "Marine Hunter."
Who would dare provoke such a calamity?
Mihawk ignored the deathly silence around him—he was used to it.
He walked straight to the bar under countless gazes. Then, as if sensing something, his hawk-like golden eyes suddenly swept toward a corner.
The hunter caught in his gaze felt as though he'd been stripped naked and tossed into an icy wasteland. With a shrill yelp, he stumbled back several steps.
Mihawk withdrew his gaze, as if he'd merely glanced at an ant.
He picked up the newspaper on the bar, his eyes instantly locking onto a striking headline—
"Great Swordmaster."
…
While the outside world was in uproar, Marine Headquarters was naturally no exception.
Inside the Fleet Admiral's office.
Sengoku had dismissed everyone under the pretext of handling official business, creating an absolutely secure private space.
Only then did he carefully take out the Den Den Mushi that had rung before.
As expected, it wasn't long before the snail began to chirp again.
Sengoku took a deep breath and lifted the receiver.
A moment later, a deliberately lowered voice came through.
"Little rice cracker."
"Big senbei."
The code phrase matched. The person on the other end clearly relaxed.
"It's me."
Hearing that familiar voice, Sengoku finally felt half the weight lift from his heart.
"Rosinante… how have things been these past few days? I haven't heard from you in a long time. I've been really worried about your safety."
On the other end, Corazon tightened his grip on the receiver. Warmth surged through him, but he quickly composed himself and explained.
"I accompanied Doflamingo and the other four officers to attend Wano's Fire Festival. Signal control there is very strict."
Sengoku knew this—recently the entire world had been talking about it.
He was impressed by Wano's environment, but the nation's military strength left him increasingly alarmed.
Especially that Rumble-Rumble Fruit, missing for a century, now in the hands of a prodigiously gifted young girl.
Every time he thought of it, Sengoku felt like smashing his head into a wall—how could such a talent not belong to the Marines?
"Fleet Admiral Sengoku, what I need to report this time is the secret deal Doflamingo reached with that Yonko."
Corazon's words snapped Sengoku back to reality.
Through World Government channels, Sengoku roughly knew Doflamingo had exchanged the Snow-Snow Fruit for this opportunity, but the details had remained top secret.
"What Doflamingo's involved in is huge—big enough to completely reshape the New World!"
Sengoku's expression hardened. His voice dropped.
"Speak."
After carefully confirming there was no surveillance, Corazon lowered his voice even further.
"Doflamingo will be responsible for the artificial Devil Fruits produced by Wano. He's in charge of the entire trade and transport chain. The first shipment… will be delivered to Kaido in half a year!"
"PFF—!!!"
Sengoku sprayed the tea he'd just taken into his mouth all over the desk.
He didn't even bother wiping it, eyes wide as he roared into the receiver,
"Are you absolutely certain this information is real?!"
"Without a doubt. He personally bragged about it after returning. We haven't seen the goods yet, but given his personality, he wouldn't lie about something like this."
Dead silence fell on the line.
After a long while, Sengoku finally found his voice again, asking with difficulty,
"How much do you know about these artificial Devil Fruits?"
"I've heard most of them are Zoan-type, and there are some side effects. I don't know the exact parameters."
Corazon reported everything he knew, then proposed his plan.
"Doflamingo will personally escort the first shipment. I'm confident I can get the route map. The Marines could set up an ambush midway."
"No! Absolutely not!"
Sengoku rejected it instantly, his tone decisive.
"That's far too risky! Even knowing the route, Tsuru has chased him for years without catching him. He's slippery as hell."
"If the operation fails, your identity will be exposed—and you'll be in extreme danger."
"And this is only the first shipment. It's not worth betting your life."
Corazon fell silent, waiting for Sengoku's final orders.
"Rosinante, listen carefully. Maintain silence and keep the status quo. Report again once the exact delivery time is confirmed. We'll have our own people infiltrate Kaido's side."
"Our top priority right now is to determine the side effects and actual performance of these artificial Devil Fruits. Understood?"
"Stay alive. Nothing is more important than that."
After hanging up, Sengoku rubbed his temples, feeling his head about to explode.
With a heavy sigh, he picked up another golden Den Den Mushi used to contact his superiors and reported the shocking intelligence to the Five Elders.
The response was exactly as expected.
Since a mature industrial chain had already formed, the World Government showed immense interest in this new product capable of changing the nature of warfare.
However, those old foxes didn't rush to take a stance. Their intention was to let Kaido's Beasts Pirates act as test subjects first.
If the side effects proved acceptable, the World Government wouldn't mind stepping in later.
After all, business was business.
Whether weapons or seastone, the World Government had long been one of Wano's major clients.
As long as the profit was big enough, doing business with pirates posed no psychological burden whatsoever.
…
At this very moment, Kaido had no idea that news of his artificial Devil Fruits had already leaked like a sieve.
Inside the Beasts Pirates' headquarters, the atmosphere was suffocating.
In the central palace on a New World island, furious roars and the sounds of shattering objects echoed endlessly.
"Tenma, that bastard! That's my own flesh and blood! When did he become your man?!"
"And that unfilial brat Yamato! With my blood running through her veins, she dares say she'll help Tenma deal with me?!"
Boom!
With a thunderous roar, a solid hardwood table was smashed into splinters beneath Kaido's kanabō.
Ever since learning that Yamato had eaten the Rumble-Rumble Fruit, Kaido had tried to demand her back from Tenma.
Not only did he fail—he ended up swallowing a mouthful of frustration.
Far away in Wano, Tenma didn't give him the time of day.
Maybe there had once been some wariness, but now—whether in personal strength or territorial power—Tenma completely overshadowed Kaido.
Add to that his grip on the SMILE industrial chain, and even if Kaido's lungs exploded with rage, he didn't dare truly fall out with Tenma.
So all he could do was rage uselessly at home, taking it out on furniture.
"Well done."
In a Wano courtyard, Tenma smiled and rubbed Yamato's fluffy white hair.
"Hmph! As if I'd ever leave your side for that rotten old man!"
Yamato squinted in enjoyment, rubbing against Tenma's palm like a tamed little tiger.
Through subtle influence over time, Tenma's place in Yamato's heart had long surpassed that of her father, who beat her at the drop of a hat.
Not to mention how Kaido had treated her like merchandise during that phone call, haggling over her value—
Tenma had deliberately put it on speaker so Yamato heard every word.
That alone wiped out the last shred of her attachment to the Beasts Pirates.
In this timeline, the classic drama of "filial piety" continued to play out.
To fulfill Yamato's wish to personally defeat Kaido, Tenma naturally stepped up as her instructor.
He decided to open a special training course, teaching Yamato the advanced application of Conqueror's Haki—
A supreme technique beyond awakening and intimidation: Conqueror's Haki Coating.
To be honest, Tenma's theoretical understanding of Haki coating wasn't all that profound—after all, it wasn't nearly as widespread as basic Armament or Observation.
But in practice, his understanding was simple and direct:
Control Conqueror's Haki the same way you control Armament—make it flow, wrap around you, and erupt.
Back when Kaido beat him half to death with that kanabō, it was at the edge of life and death that he gradually figured this technique out.
Now, it was Yamato's turn to "repay" her father.
This was nothing like advanced Armament's Ryūō. To master it, one had to comprehend it through life-or-death clashes between true powerhouses.
Only by repeatedly dancing on the edge of death could the bearing of a king truly undergo transformation.
Mansherry had already prepared healing blood-offering dandelions, standing by at all times.
Tenma shamelessly recreated Kaido's brutally simple teaching style—
"As long as you're not dead, train harder."
He made them fully immerse themselves in the terrifying pressure brought by Conqueror's Haki coating, forcing their bodies to memorize the sensation through heavy, repeated blows.
When it came to increasing strength, even toward Yamato and Hancock—who were closest to his heart—he showed not a shred of tenderness.
A strict teacher produces great students. Today's cruelty was for their survival tomorrow.
At worst, after training, he could spend time properly comforting the two exhausted beauties.
Judging by their expressions, they didn't seem entirely opposed to it anyway.
Still, such high-level combat techniques were indeed obscure and difficult. After a period of intense special training, both women were still groping around at the threshold.
On this point, Tenma remained calm and unhurried, fishing steadily without the slightest impatience.
🌟 The story is already written… waiting to be unleashed.
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