The Nefertari family is one of the twenty royal lineages that established the World Government eight hundred years ago. However, the Nefertari family uniquely declined to relocate to the Holy Land of Mariejois to become Celestial Dragons.
Nevertheless, the clan retains a certain degree of immense political autonomy. As a Founding Nation, they are treated with respect, though their relationship with the World Government is complex.
Under normal circumstances—provided no major issues arise—Alabasta's own national strength and Royal Guard are sufficient for self-defense, even without direct, constant Navy protection.
However, for a desert kingdom like Alabasta, Crocodile—with his Sand-Sand Fruit—is a mortal enemy. After all, the kingdom's home turf effectively becomes the Warlord's zone of absolute advantage.
Darian knew the World Government was not entirely oblivious to Crocodile's plot to usurp the Kingdom of Alabasta. If Crocodile was aware of the existence of the Poneglyphs, how could Imu—the master of the Empty Throne who had lived for eight hundred years—possibly be unaware of what he was searching for?
Given that the Nefertari clan safeguards the Poneglyph revealing the location of the Ancient Weapon "Pluton," how could the Five Elders possibly fail to take notice of a Warlord entrenching himself there?
Had Vivi and her father, King Cobra, simply been willing to bow their heads completely to the World Government and surrender their secrets, a Navy Admiral would have been dispatched to the island immediately. Even Crocodile would have met a swift, ignominious end against an Admiral.
But Vivi and her family were simply too kind-hearted, too stubborn, and too loyal to their ancient duties.
Even someone like Darian—a man who typically operated on a selfish, pragmatic basis—found himself drawn into this conflict. Vivi still harbored a rather naive hope: that by exposing Crocodile's lies to the rebel army, she could somehow minimize the bloodshed without burning her country to the ground.
Perhaps only when confronted with true, unadulterated despair would this kind-hearted princess finally realize that in this world, rulers must sometimes embrace a "Lawful Evil" mindset to survive.
Two days slipped by in the blink of an eye; they were now roughly two days' sail away from the Alabasta coastline.
Out on the open sea, the Little Fish lay moored quietly beside a large, flat coral reef for the night to avoid drifting in the unpredictable Grand Line currents.
As the sun rose from the ocean depths, casting its golden light upon the deck, Darian groggily blinked his eyes open from the captain's chair.
"Ah..."
Darian sat up, letting out a long, drawn-out yawn as he rubbed his head—which felt rather thick and heavy.
He had spent the entire previous evening in the galley playing cards with the women. They had started out gambling for small amounts of Berries, but eventually, Mikita and Alvida had introduced rum into the equation. Thanks to a streak of terrible luck against Robin's keen observation skills, Darian had lost miserably and drank heavily.
Feeling an urgent, painful pressure building in his lower abdomen, Darian stood up, walked over to the ship's railing, unzipped his trousers, and proceeded to relieve himself into the ocean.
Splash, splash, splash. The stream arced through the air in a dazzling parabola under the morning sun. It was quite some time before he finally finished emptying his bladder. He gave a shiver. Given the sheer volume of alcohol and water he had consumed, he suspected that if he didn't possess a superhuman silicone physiology, his bladder would have surely burst under the strain.
Although his bladder was now empty, it was still early morning, and his morning wood was standing tall and proud, brimming with aggressive vigor.
Thanks to his rigorous daily physical training and the passive effects of his Outer Path abilities, his physical vitality and libido had become increasingly boundless. Darian could only sigh in helpless resignation, consoling himself with the thought that, in another day or two, Nami's period would finally be over.
Although his arousal was fierce—and despite Darian's best efforts to ignore it—he pitched a massive, undeniable tent against the fabric of his sweatpants.
"I'd better go wash my face with some freezing water," Darian muttered to himself, turning away from the rail. "A cold shower and a thousand push-ups should do the trick."
He headed down below deck.
As he made his way toward the washroom, the door to the guest cabin opened, and out stepped Carmen.
She was clad in a sheer, red silk nightgown. The thin fabric clung to Carmen's form, accentuating her firm, heavy bosom and tracing the elegant contours of her hourglass figure. Above the bust, the gown was held up by nothing more than two spaghetti straps, leaving her shoulders and neck completely exposed—revealing pale skin, delicate collarbones, and a deep, alluring cleavage.
Yet, none of that was quite as captivating as the two distinct points pressing visibly against the thin silk of her bodice. It was a sight that proved utterly irresistible to Darian's hyper-aroused state.
A woman's intuition is truly a formidable thing. As if sensing Darian's burning gaze instinctively, a faint blush rose to Carmen's cheeks.
Darian stood there in the narrow hallway, staring at her. Naturally, Carmen's eyes flicked downward and she immediately noticed the massive "tent" rising from his sweatpants—a sight that made her face turn an even deeper shade of crimson.
Carmen had originally intended to sneak to the washroom to change into fresh clothes before starting breakfast; she certainly hadn't expected the Captain to come down below deck at that exact moment. Typically, Darian preferred to wash up on the deck using a bucket of seawater.
However, given the intense intimacy they had shared just a few nights ago—having done and seen everything there was to do and see between them—Carmen, despite her lingering shyness, managed to offer a polite greeting.
"Good morning, Captain!"
"Good morning, Carmen," Darian replied, a slow smile spreading across his face.
Looking Darian up and down, specifically avoiding his crotch, Carmen asked with a puzzled expression, "You're down here early. Is that...?"
"I just came down to wash my face and take a cold shower," Darian explained, his voice slightly husky.
"Oh! In that case, you go right ahead!" Saying this, Carmen quickly stepped back and closed her cabin door.
Seeing Carmen hide, Darian had intended to say something flirtatious, but found himself compelled to keep his mouth shut. Don't push her, he reminded himself.
Behind the closed door, Carmen's heart pounded incessantly. Ever since she had brought Darian that late-night snack, she had felt a growing sense of overwhelming physical attraction and slight trepidation regarding his immense stamina—so much so that she had spent the last couple of days trying to avoid being alone with him to let her body recover.
Yet now, seeing him standing there with his chest puffed out and looking so incredibly needy, her heart began to race uncontrollably once again.
When Darian emerged from the washroom after a freezing shower, Carmen was already busy preparing breakfast.
Since the drinking banquet the previous night had been held out on the large, flat coral reef they were moored against, some of the cooking utensils and a fire pit were still located there. Consequently, Carmen had decided to prepare breakfast right there on the reef itself to enjoy the morning air.
The reef was quite sizable—at least a hundred meters long and over ten meters wide.
Watching her toil away all by herself to prepare the meal, Darian stepped off the ship's ramp and walked over to her.
"Need a hand?" he asked, rolling up his sleeves with a gentle smile.
Compared to Carmen, Darian's culinary skills were absolute rubbish, but he was certainly capable of serving as a prep cook.
"Sure!" Carmen replied, flashing a bright smile.
Although he had offered to "help," in the end, all Darian actually did was wash the plates from the night before and chop some vegetables.
Watching Carmen as she busied herself preparing various pastries and meats—and thinking of how Nami and the others were still fast asleep in their warm beds—Darian felt a pang of appreciation.
"Carmen, you really work so hard for us," Darian said warmly.
"It's no trouble at all, Captain! It is my duty, after all," Carmen replied. She had changed into her crisp white chef's uniform—a look that possessed a unique, professional charm of its own compared to her sultry nightgown.
This prompted Darian to ask a more personal question. "Um... is your body feeling better now?"
Hearing his inquiry, Carmen paused her chopping for a moment. She nodded, her face flushing, and murmured, "Mm."
Recalling the wild abandon of that night—Robin's voyeurism, carrying Carmen back into Robin's room, and his own refusal to heed Carmen's exhausted pleas for mercy as he continued his assault—Darian felt a distinct pang of guilt. During the day, Nami kept such a close, jealous watch on him that Darian hadn't even found the time to pull Carmen aside to check on her properly.
Hearing her offer nothing more than a simple "Mm," Darian began to wonder if she was genuinely upset with him for being too rough.
Seeing her bent over the prep table, Darian walked up behind her and gently wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Ah!"
Startled by Darian's sudden embrace—and feeling the heat of his solid chest against her back—Carmen let out a small cry. She dropped her knife and hurriedly turned around in his arms. "Captain! What on earth are you doing? We're out in the open!"
Seeing the look of alarm on her face, Darian quickly softened his grip. "Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you."
"Then let go of me!" Carmen retorted with a hint of nervous annoyance, glancing up at the ship.
But Darian held fast, his voice sincere. "I'm truly sorry, Carmen. I got a little too carried away that night. I was rough. Are you alright?"
Many women suffered from physical and emotional trauma due to a painful or selfish first experience; Darian certainly didn't want that to be the foundation of their relationship.
Hearing Darian bring up the events of that night so tenderly, Carmen—who had indeed been swept up in the frenzy and pleasure of the moment—couldn't help but feel her annoyance melt away.
"Um... I'm fine," Carmen replied somewhat shyly, looking down at his chest.
"Did I hurt you?" Darian pressed on gently. "Are you afraid of me? You've been avoiding me these past few days."
Hearing this, and meeting Darian's searching, affectionate gaze, Carmen explained rather haltingly. "Not at all, Captain! I... I did it willingly. I wanted you. It's just..."
As she spoke, Carmen's face flushed even deeper red.
"You're just... too intense," she admitted softly. "I've never done that before. I needed some time to recover, which is why I've been keeping my distance."
Seeing Carmen's bashful, honest demeanor, Darian immediately breathed a sigh of relief. He smiled warmly.
Unlike Nami, Carmen wore heavy eyeshadow and bold lipstick, giving her an exceptionally sultry, confident look. Seeing that confident woman look so incredibly shy and vulnerable for him was intoxicating. Darian couldn't resist leaning in to kiss her.
Carmen might be a girl who appreciated good looks, but she was truly a wonderful, hardworking woman. As Darian began his intense physical training, his appetite had grown insatiably—a change that only added to her workload—yet Carmen never voiced a single complaint. Unable to resist his charm, she had surrendered herself to him completely. Darian could sense just how deeply she cared for him.
Sensing his ardor, Carmen responded in kind. She wrapped her arms around his neck, their lips and tongues intertwining passionately over the prep table.
They were pressed tightly together. Having gone three days without release, Darian was practically bursting with pent-up energy; the mere touch of her firm curves against his morning arousal was enough to make him groan into her mouth.
Just as things were about to escalate further right there on the reef, the smell of something burning snapped them back to reality.
Carmen gasped, breaking the kiss. "The bacon!"
She hurriedly rushed off to attend to the frying pan over the fire pit. Darian, chuckling and reining in his desires, took a step back and cast a casual glance up at the ship.
Just as Darian breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that no one had noticed their steamy make-out session, he froze.
Standing on the deck of the *Little Fish*, hiding behind the wooden railing, was Princess Vivi.
She had a hand clamped firmly over her mouth. Leaning back against the rail, her eyes were wide with utter, blushing disbelief. She had seen the entire exchange.
Later, during breakfast in the galley, Nami was served a slice of bacon—sandwiched between two pieces of toast—that was slightly charred on the edges.
Nami cast a puzzled glance at Carmen, surprised that the master chef could make such a rookie blunder.
Fortunately, Nami remained completely unaware of the true, distracting reason behind the burnt meat. Otherwise, she surely would have beaten Darian to death right there at the breakfast table.
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