The wave of laughter prompted by Luffy's culinary rampage subsided, leaving a warm, comfortable afterglow in the bar.
The heavy weight of the God Valley revelations had been momentarily lifted, replaced by the simple, absurd reality of a rubberman satisfying his bottomless stomach.
Ragnar watched the scene with amusement before his gaze returned to Shakky.
"Shakky," he began, his voice cutting through the residual chuckles. "I have a request. I need Boa Hancock's Den Den Mushi number."
The request landed with the subtlety of a cannonball. Shakky, who had just been wiping a tear of laughter from her eye, froze, her elegant eyebrows shooting up towards her hairline. A slow, deeply intrigued smile spread across her lips.
"Oh my, Ragnar-chan," she purred, leaning conspiratorially over the bar.
"Has the mighty Sea Scourge fallen for our dear Hancock-chan? I must say, I'm surprised. You seem to have quite the… collection of formidable women right here." Her eyes flickered meaningfully towards Nami, Robin, Isabella, and Nojiko, who were seated around the table.
The reaction from the four women was not what Shakky, or anyone else, expected. There was no jealousy, no possessiveness, not even a hint of irritation.
Nami rolled her eyes with a fond smirk, Robin smiled enigmatically behind her cup of coffee, Isabella smiled slightly but nodded in support of her captain, and Nojiko, just looked curious wondering when the Captain would make a move on her.
It was a unified front of absolute, unshakeable trust and acceptance. They understood their captain's ambitions were vast and multifaceted, and they stood with him, not against him.
This display of serene solidarity stunned Shakky into momentary silence. It was Rayleigh, however, who had the most visceral reaction.
He looked from the four beautiful, powerful women who clearly adored Ragnar without a trace of conflict, to Ragnar himself, and a profound, almost comical wave of envy washed over his weathered face.
It was the look of a man who had spent decades in a happy, monogamous relationship suddenly realizing there was another, far more chaotic, and seemingly more rewarding path. He opened his mouth as if to say something, a wistful sigh almost escaping.
He was cut off by a glare from Shakky. It was a look that could freeze magma. It carried the silent, potent message of 'Don't you even think about it, old man.'
Rayleigh's jaw snapped shut. He shrank back in his seat, suddenly finding the intricate patterns in the wood of his wine glass to be the most fascinating subject in the world, a faint blush creeping up his neck.
The legendary Dark King had been thoroughly cowed by a single look from his bartender.
Satisfied, Shakky's expression softened into one of amusement. "Well, since you asked so nicely," she said, reaching under the bar and pulling out a specific, ornately shelled Den Den Mushi.
She dialed a number, and the snail began to ring, its face taking on a stern, elderly female countenance.
After a few rings, it connected. "Shakky," a raspy, impatient voice crackled through the snail. It was Gloriosa, the former Empress also known as Elder Nyon. "What do you want? I'm busy."
Shakky, utterly unperturbed by the brusque tone, smiled. "Hello, Gloriosa. I have someone here who wishes to speak with Hancock. A rather famous young man by the name of Vortex D. Ragnar."
The reaction from the other side was immediate and vehement. "ABSOLUTELY NOT!" Gloriosa's snail-face scowled deeply. "That boy is nothing but trouble! He's an enemy of the World Government, he's arrogant, and he's surrounded by other women! Nothing good will come of Hancock speaking to him! I forbid it!"
…..
In Amazon Lily, deep within the royal palace, Gloriosa was having this heated conversation in a secluded corridor.
Unbeknownst to her, Boa Hancock was passing by with her sisters, Sandersonia and Marigold. They paused, curious at the sight of the elder being so secretive and agitated.
Hancock's sharp hearing caught the tail end of the conversation: "...nothing good will come of Hancock speaking to him!"
A cold, majestic fury ignited within the Pirate Empress. How dare this old woman presume to decide who she could or could not speak to? And to speak of him in such a dismissive manner?
Her mind flashed to the special edition newspaper delivered by that strange power just hours earlier, the one with the breathtaking, full-color photograph of Ragnar standing defiantly over a defeated Celestial Dragon, his golden eyes blazing with contempt for the heavens themselves.
Her heart, which had been doing strange, fluttering things ever since she'd seen that picture, now clenched with outrage.
"Elder Nyon!" Hancock's voice, cold as ice, echoed in the corridor.
"H-Hancock! This is not-" Gloriosa jumped, spinning around with the Den Den Mushi held protectively.
"It is for your Empress to decide what is good for her!" Hancock declared, striding forward with lethal grace. She snatched the Den Den Mushi from the sputtering elder's hand.
Without a second glance, she grabbed Gloriosa by the back of her robe and, with a casual flick of her wrist worthy of her 80 million berry bounty, hurled the old woman down the long hallway.
Gloriosa let out a startled yelp as she tumbled end over end into a distant, thankfully soft, pile of ceremonial cushions.
Bringing the receiver to her ear, Hancock's voice underwent a miraculous transformation, becoming soft, melodious, and regal. "Hello, Shakky-san. This is Hancock. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
…..
Back in Sabaody, Shakky watched as the Den Den Mushi's face morphed from the wrinkled scowl of Gloriosa into the stunningly beautiful, haughty visage of Boa Hancock. She chuckled inwardly. "
Hancock-chan, hello. There's a… rather handsome young man here who would like a word with you."
On the other end, Hancock felt her knees go weak. 'Him. It's really him.' She had seen the papers. She had heard the rumors. The man who laughed at the Admirals and spat in the eye of the World Nobles.
"Y-yes?" she managed, trying to keep her voice cold and aloof, but a slight, betraying tremor ran through it.
Shakky heard it. Her eyes widened a fraction in genuine surprise. She had known Hancock since she was a traumatized girl returned from Mariejois. She had never, ever heard that particular tremor in her voice.
Then she remembered the newspaper, the sheer audacity of Ragnar's actions, the kind of raw, rebellious power that would speak directly to the deepest, most hidden parts of Hancock's soul. A slow, understanding smile spread across Shakky's face. She handed the receiver to Ragnar. "She's all yours."
Ragnar took the Den Den Mushi, a knowing smile playing on his lips. As he did, the snail on his end began to change. Its skin lightened to a pale hue, its 'hair' formed into stylized, light-blue messy hair, and its eyes shifted into piercing, intelligent gold. It was a near-perfect miniature replica of Ragnar's face.
In Amazon Lily, Hancock stared at the Den Den Mushi in her hand, which had similarly morphed to mirror the caller.
She saw the handsome, sharp features, the confident set of the jaw, and most of all, those captivating golden eyes. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a wild bird trapped in a cage. It was even more intense than the photograph.
Then he spoke. "Boa Hancock," Ragnar's voice came through, smooth as aged whiskey and warm with a genuine smile. "It's a pleasure to finally speak with you."
That was it. That was all it took. The voice, the smile she could hear through the connection, the face on the snail… it was a direct, devastating attack on her defenses.
Her carefully constructed wall of icy arrogance melted into a puddle on the floor. Her heart didn't just beat fast; it felt like it was swelling, filling her entire chest with a warm, dizzying glow. She had to lean against a pillar for support.
"Y-yes, Mr. Ragnar," she stammered, her voice losing all its imperial chill, becoming soft and breathy.
"What… what could I do for you?"
"Relax, Miss Hancock," Ragnar said, his tone gentle, almost soothing. He knew exactly the effect he was having, and he found it utterly charming. "I just wanted to invite you to join my crew."
That was what Ragnar said. A straightforward, logistical offer.
But in Hancock's mind, filtered through a lifetime of trauma, a deep-seated fear of vulnerability, and a recently awakened, all-consuming infatuation, the words transformed. They became a command. A declaration. A claim.
'Join my crew.'
Her mind instantly conjured a fantasy. Ragnar, tall and imposing, pinning her gently against a wall, his golden eyes burning with possessive intensity. ' You are mine,' he would growl, his voice leaving no room for argument. ' Your strength, your beauty, your heart… it all belongs to me now.'
"Kyaaa!" A high-pitched, completely involuntary sound escaped her lips. A deep, furious blush exploded across her face, spreading from her cheeks down her neck.
She brought her free hand to her burning cheek, a dreamy, blissed-out smile spreading across her face as she swayed on her feet, completely lost in her delusion.
On the Sabaody end, the Den Den Mushi perfectly mirrored her expression, its face turning bright red with a loopy, lovesick grin.
The reaction in the bar was instantaneous and varied. The Straw Hats, Coby, and Brook stared, utterly bewildered. Usopp's jaw was on the floor. Sanji was torn between seething jealousy and the ingrained habit of nose-bleeding at any display of beauty.
The Vortex Pirates, however, who were more familiar with their captain's uncanny ability to attract the unusual, simply watched with a mixture of amusement and resignation. Zoro grunted,
"Another weirdo in love with the captain." This earned him multiple glares from the women and poor Zoro shrank his head from the intensity of the glares.
Wyper looked profoundly confused. Bartolomeo was already mentally drafting fan fiction.
Only Rayleigh and Shakky watched with deep understanding. Rayleigh shook his head with a wry smile, remembering the complicated woman Hancock was.
Shakky simply smiled, seeing a glimpse of the lonely girl behind the Empress finally finding an object for her affections that was powerful enough to possibly handle them.
Ragnar, who had fully anticipated this exact reaction based on his knowledge of her personality, didn't mock her or act confused. He simply waited, his miniature Den Den Mshi face maintaining its warm, patient smile.
It was a profoundly wholesome moment, a bizarre bridge between a ruthless pirate's recruitment drive and a lonely woman's romantic awakening, all facilitated by a transponder snail.
After a moment, Hancock managed to regain a shred of her composure, though her voice was still a breathy, excited whisper. "I… I would be… honored… to accept your… generous invitation… Captain."