Nojiko's intentions were unmistakably clear—she was offering herself in her sister's place.
Ryuji sat calmly, his fingers absentmindedly teasing her breasts in his hand as he responded.
"Sorry. You're wonderful, no doubt. But the deal I have with your sister is... deeper than what you're imagining. She can tell you if she wants to."
Nojiko frowned. She had assumed it was a simple transaction. The idea that her sister might have made other deals with this man hadn't even crossed her mind.
Feeling thrown off, she reached out and grabbed Ryuji's hand, halting his casual movements.
"What do you mean? Are you trying to raise the price?"
Her tone turned sharp. But Ryuji only chuckled, lightly grazing her strawberry-hued tip, causing even this composed woman to shudder.
"Not at all. I just think... if you don't understand the full picture, you'll both regret it later. It's better you clear things up between yourselves first. Saves me some trouble too."
Ryuji looked at her directly. He wasn't interested in leaving behind unnecessary problems.
Nami had potential, and he knew from experience that a mishandled situation like this could twist a once-loyal partner into someone who might betray him. Honesty, this time, was the better route.
"If you ask Nami about it, she'll tell you. Sooner or later, she won't be able to keep it hidden."
The resurrection of Bell-mère wasn't something that could be hidden for long. Whether Nami planned to take her mother to another village or keep her here, Nojiko would learn of it eventually. It was inevitable.
Ryuji had made sure he was always playing from a position of strength.
Hearing this, Nojiko immediately pushed his hand away from her chest and turned her back to him, only allowing the side of her breast to remain in his view—denying him the fuller sight of what just moments ago had been freely offered.
"And to think I thought you were a decent man."
She quickly put her shirt back on. Ryuji caught a brief, tantalizing glimpse of her chest pressed by the fabric as she tugged it into place. In some ways, that fleeting image was even more alluring than full exposure.
"Say what you like. The truth is, neither of you could reject what I offered."
He didn't mind being seen as manipulative—it wasn't far from the truth.
"So what exactly was the offer?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Ask Nami."
"You're a boring man," Nojiko snorted, before walking off in the direction of her sister, who was still drinking and laughing among old neighbors and friends.
But the party was about to come to an end.
As Nojiko's hips swayed naturally with each step, Ryuji returned to his studies and training.
Now that he had grasped the basics of Observation Haki, his training had become more efficient. Internal awareness was easier now. He could 'see' the damage within his own body and use Life Return to repair it more smoothly.
"This is a damn useful skill."
Ryuji opened his eyes, flexing his fingers, but he noticed something odd—his version of Observation Haki was quite different from the usual.
In the anime, most users could only sense incoming danger or nearby presences. But his Observation let him perceive color, sound… even see inside living things. It was sharper. More alive.
Driven by curiosity, Ryuji picked up a metal dinner knife and turned to an iron canister on the table.
With his Haki, he could see faint glimmers inside it—hear strange murmurs, feel a pull toward its weakness.
The signals were messy, chaotic. But then a faint will stirred within the object. Ryuji pushed back with his own will, crushing the resistance. Instantly, the 'voice' showed him the vulnerable point.
There!
He thrust the knife—easily piercing the iron. But when he stabbed again using normal strength, the can didn't even dent.
"So this is that 'cutting steel' power they talk about here... Feels kind of like the buffs I get in 7 Days to Die. Heavily tied to this world's mechanics."
He frowned. The ability to sense weaknesses worked because the object was 'speaking' to him, and his will overpowered it. If his Observation Haki grew even stronger, could he… talk back?
"Is this that 'voice of all things'? Or rather, dialogue with the world itself? Is that what Roger meant when he said we were alike?"
He scratched his head. That bastard Roger always spoke in riddles. Nothing he said ever had just one meaning.
"Sigh… Resurrection ability is powerful, but it's really hard to control."
Ryuji clenched his hand. Everyone he had revived in this world had no desire to keep living.
Even Ace's mother, though fierce in spirit, only wanted to see her son one last time before returning to death.
It wasn't that these people were afraid to live—it was that they had fulfilled their purpose. Their convictions had already been passed on.
"Sometimes, it's just easier dealing with villains…"
Letting go of the tangled thoughts, he refocused on blood energy training. He practiced using it in tandem with his fire abilities, while also pondering what sort of fighting style he should settle into.
Meanwhile, Nojiko had already found Nami.
"Sorry, Genzo, it's time to end the party."
She looked around at the drunk villagers and sighed. Though Arlong had fallen and hope had returned, these people wouldn't be fit for work for several days—and that would delay everything from citrus deals to rebuilding efforts.
"Alright, Nojiko. And… how's our guest doing?" Genzo slurred.
The old man, who had watched the sisters grow up, couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. Without Arlong, they might have blossomed into even more beautiful women.
"He's… fine."
Just thinking of Ryuji's smug face made Nojiko scowl. He had touched her—and then casually told her Nami had made another deal with him.
Total scumbag.
"Treat him well, won't you…"
Genzo's mumbling trailed off as he passed out. Nojiko sighed, draped a coat over him, and slung the drunken Nami over her shoulder.
But as they passed through the orange grove, she spoke:
"You're awake, aren't you, Nami?"
As her sister, she knew. Nami never let herself get drunk—not even on a night like this.
Nami said nothing. She had caught Ryuji's scent on Nojiko.
"Tell me what the deal is. If you don't, I'll go to that man myself. Whatever price you paid, I'll double it."
Nojiko's voice was firm, and Nami could only sigh as she slid off her sister's shoulder.
"Couldn't you have just pretended not to know?"
Nami's voice was tired. She sank to the ground.
"You're my sister," Nojiko said.
They weren't blood-related, of course—just two orphans thrown together by war and pirates.
"Fine. You'd find out anyway."
Nami looked up, bracing herself. She knew this was coming.
"If I agree to stay with him for ten years, he'll give Bell-mère ten more years of life."
Nojiko's first reaction was disbelief. Or maybe, she feared her sister had been conned.
But Nami's serious eyes made her pause. After thinking it through, Nojiko quietly asked:
"Then… if I join you, can Bell-mère live another ten years?"
"That's not how it works."
"Well, we're kind of a matching set, aren't we? Sisters. That has to be a bonus for him."
Nojiko's gaze was resolute.
"You've done so much already. As your older sister, it's only right I share the burden. I never had talent before—but if this is something I can do, then I will."
She didn't know whether Ryuji truly had such power. She didn't even think her body was worth ten years of someone's life.
But Nami believed. And that was enough.
Even if it was a scam, at least they'd face it together.
"I knew this would happen…"
Nami's tears began to fall. She'd known that once she told Nojiko, this was how it would end. That man—Ryuji—was terrifying.
He had never pressured them. Just offered terms they couldn't refuse, at exactly the right moment.
It wasn't his fault.
It was theirs.
"…No, it's just me," Nami muttered.
She looked at Nojiko's face—so sincere, so calm—and felt torn. A part of her wished Ryuji would reject Nojiko, while another wished he'd accept.
"Bell-mère would want grandkids too, wouldn't she? Even if she wasn't our real mother. She'd still love to see her daughters happy… and what better story than a passionate village girl marrying the hero who saved everyone?"
Nojiko pulled Nami into her arms.
Nami just sighed.
She, too, wanted Nojiko to live a long life.
"Let's go. It's time we faced our fate. After all…"
Nojiko helped her up and looked toward their home.
"That man… has probably already calculated everything."
And sure enough, when they opened the door to Ryuji's room, he had just finished his training and was preparing to sleep.
Seeing them walk in hand-in-hand and close the door behind them, Ryuji immediately understood.
"If I offer my body—and ten years of my youth—can we get a little more time for Bell-mère? After all, Nami did repay an extra Arlong!"
Nojiko didn't hesitate.
"I could agree... but I refuse."
Ryuji yawned.
"The most I can give you is the same deal as Nami."
So, negotiations were open?
Nojiko smiled, pulling Nami close.
"What if we come together? Would that be worth something extra?"
Nami's eyes widened—but her sister was already lifting her shirt, revealing her well-developed chest with plenty of room left to grow.
Nojiko followed, fingers on her shorts, lifting her top with the other hand.
"I can offer myself tonight, too."
"...."
Ryuji paused, considering. Nojiko's physique was noticeably more developed than Nami's—partly due to age, partly from years of labor. His gaze traced the sun-kissed lines of her torso as she stepped forward, fingers trembling only slightly as she undid the buttons of her denim shorts.
"That depends on your performance."
Nojiko's lips curved into a determined smile. With deliberate slowness, she peeled off her top, revealing full breasts that swayed with each step. The tattoo across her shoulder only accentuated the lean muscles of her abdomen—taut from years of tilling soil, yet undeniably feminine.
Ryuji's gaze traced the dance of her body—the proud arc of her spine, the taut plane of her abdomen devoid of excess, the way her cobalt hair contrasted against the ink swirling across her shoulders. A warrior's markings on a farmer's frame.
His hand moved of its own accord. His fingertips charted a path from the valley between her breasts, over the delicate dip of her navel, to where her unbuttoned denim shorts hung precariously low. A single hooked finger caught the waistband of her cotton panties, peeling it down with deliberate slowness.
The fabric slid down to expose neatly trimmed blue curls—meticulously maintained, a stark contrast to Nami's wilder thatch.
"You groom here?" Ryuji's chuckle was dark with approval as fabric pooled around her ankles.
Nojiko answered by sinking to her knees, her mouth capturing his in a kiss tinged with citrus and cheap rum while boldly slipping her hand into his pants.
She didn't bother pulling them down—instead, she teasingly stroked his growing arousal through the fabric of his underwear, her inexperience only adding to the thrill. Under her touch, his dick quickly hardened, straining against the confines of the cloth.
Ryuji nipped at Nojiko's lips, tasting the lingering sweetness of citrus wine on her tongue. His hands, never idle, roamed down to grasp her firm butt. Years of labor had given her rear a resilient elasticity, and after a few appreciative squeezes, he couldn't resist giving it a light, stinging slap.
Just then, he felt another pair of hands—far more confident—unfastening his pants, freeing his now fully erect dick into the cool air.
Nojiko's technique was still clumsy, but the moment those new fingers wrapped around him, he immediately recognized Nami's touch. Without hesitation, the orangehead took over, kneeling before him and lowering her head.
Still unpracticed in using her chest, she simply guided him between her lips, taking him into her mouth.
Ryuji's pulse quickened, his grip on Nojiko's ample breasts tightening possessively. By the time their kiss broke, faint red marks already bloomed across her sun-kissed skin, glistening with a light sheen of sweat.
"You're really rough, aren't you?" Nojiko murmured, watching as he traced the flushed marks with his thumb.
Ryuji ran a thumb over one peaked nipple, the texture reminding him of perfectly charred yakitori.
"But isn't that what you like?"
With that, he yanked her shorts the rest of the way off, hooked his hands under her arms, and lifted her effortlessly into the air. One palm slid along the curve of her spine while the other explored lower, finding the hidden garden between her thighs.
Unlike Nami's tightly closed, plump "steamed bun," Nojiko's virgin entrance had a different shape—still snug, but curved like a delicate seashell, its folds parting slightly under his probing touch.
Not one to waste an opportunity, he buried his face between her breasts, biting and suckling at the soft nipples as if determined to devour her whole.
Nojiko let out a shaky breath. She couldn't tell if it was pain or pleasure—only that it felt undeniably good.