Durutol Town, Durutol Island.
A beautiful orange-haired woman, her figure enviable, held a slip dress in a boutique, frowning at the price. "Hmm? How much did you say this costs?"
The middle-aged shopkeeper, barely 1.45 meters tall, hair parted in the center, small eyes, and a comical handlebar mustache, rubbed his hands nervously. "Look, this is hand-woven from the finest silkworm silk from the West Blue, and these threads here are sewn from the golden eagle's down from the South Sea."
A sharp glint lit Nami's eyes as she stared him down. "You think I don't know? This is just ordinary silkworm silk from Bayes Island in the Grand Line. And this isn't golden eagle down; it's the armpit down from the gray gulls on this island."
The man's face drained of color. He hadn't expected that a girl who looked no older than sixteen could be so knowledgeable about textiles.
"Cough… cough… I… I'll sell it to you for 100,000 Berries!" he stammered.
Nami raised an eyebrow. "100,000? This fabric is barely worth 20,000 Berries."
Cold sweat dripped down his forehead. This young woman radiated an aura that made him feel powerless. Clearly, he had met his match. "B-Beautiful lady… that's the lowest price I can offer," he muttered.
Nami's gaze shifted to the young man standing next to her. "Do you know who he is? He's my man."
The shopkeeper followed her gaze. His eyes widened in terror as he recognized the figure. "Y-You… you are… God Slayer,… Rolan?!"
Then he looked at the orange-haired woman. "And… you… you are White Fist Nami?"
Indeed, the pair were none other than Rolan and Nami, newly returned to Paradise.
Rolan stood silently, observing the boutique scene. The dress had originally been priced at 2.1 million Berries. Now? It had dropped twentyfold, a deal that would make any ordinary store look like a street stall on Earth in his previous life.
The shopkeeper, shaking, blurted, "Then… then I won't charge you anything!"
In this world, everyone knew God Slayer Rolan was a merciless demon—ruthless, lawless, even Marine authority was irrelevant to him. Today, he had planned to fleece a young beauty, but now he faced legends themselves.
Nami handed over 500,000 Berries. "We're not just ordinary Pirates. Pay what we owe. This is the money for the clothes."
The shopkeeper held the money, incredulous. Rumors painted Rolan and his crew as monsters of the sea, yet here they were, paying like normal customers.
"Alright," Rolan said casually. "We're just ordinary consumers today. Pack these up."
The man nodded frantically and escorted them out, terrified of invoking their wrath. As they exited, he sank to his knees in fear.
Nami looked puzzled. "Boss, what's wrong?"
"Lord Rolan! Lady Nami! Kneel! The… Celestial Dragons are here!" the man cried.
Rolan glanced around. The streets were empty of defiance; everyone knelt with heads bowed, fearing what was approaching.
At the street corner, three World Nobles appeared, each encased in a glass bubble. Two men and one woman, grotesque in their wealth and arrogance.
The front figure, a white-haired old man, led the way. Behind him, a woman, her eyes uneven, body layered with fat beneath her white noble garb. At the back, a man with wide-set eyes, a massive garlic-shaped nose, and a corpulent frame resembling a pig. Each rode a powerful pirate like a mount, flanked by eight uniformed bodyguards.
"Hurry up!" the male Celestial Dragon commanded, whipping the pirate beneath him. Blood splattered instantly.
"Ah! I just returned from sea after three years! I have a wife and child waiting!" the pirate begged.
"Lowly inferior race, move faster!" the Dragon snapped, striking again.
The female Celestial Dragon sneered at Zelensky's subordinate. "I told you to pick a stronger slave, but you ignored me. Look how slow he is."
The old man sighed, glancing at his son. "Alright… alright. Auction at Sabaody Archipelago next month. I'll buy a new one."
As the trio drew nearer, the shopkeeper panicked. "L-Lord Rolan! Lady Nami! Kneel! Don't let them see you!"
Rolan surveyed the three nobles and smiled faintly. "Why would I kneel to those fat fucks?."
The man beside him trembled violently. It was hopeless—today they would surely die.
Nami looked at the Celestial Dragons with disgust. "Ew… can such creatures even be called nobles?"
Zelensky's attention snapped to her. The orange-haired woman before him was stunning, her body alluring. He had hardly ever seen such a beauty. Saliva dribbled inside his glass dome.
"This one is perfect! Bring her to me; I want her as my 108th wife."
Nami recoiled in nausea. Rolan's expression darkened. His companions—and any woman under his protection—were untouchable.
"Bloody mess, die," he said calmly.
A powerful aura radiated from Rolan, suppressing the entire town. The special agents accompanying the Celestial Dragons sweat profusely under the pressure. The three nobles felt their joints creak and crack under the invisible weight.
"He… he is God Slayer… Rolan!"
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