The office air was thick with the scent of expensive tobacco and the lingering ozone of a brief, violent encounter. Stussy rose from the floor in a hauntingly fluid motion, her body moving with the mechanical precision of a puppet whose strings had just been jerked taut. She did not look back as she retreated into the private lounge tucked behind the primary workspace.
Kane did not follow. Instead, he made himself at home on the expansive leather sofa, a piece of furniture that likely cost more than a standard Marine patrol boat. He reached out and snagged a stray document from the low table, his eyes scanning the columns of numbers with a practiced, predatory ease. It was a detailed ledger of black-market arms deals flowing through the Underworld, and the totals were astronomical.
These shadow brokers really know how to squeeze a profit out of misery, Kane thought, a slow, cynical smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He tossed the paper back onto the pile, unimpressed by the greed but interested in the leverage.
The door to the lounge clicked open a few minutes later. When Stussy stepped back into the office, Kane tilted his head, his gaze traveling upward with blatant, appreciative intent. She had discarded the torn silk nightgown. In its place, she wore a sharp, professional black suit skirt that seemed painted onto her figure, accentuating every mature curve of her hips. Her white V-neck shirt was crisp, though the top two buttons remained undone, framing the pale, elegant lines of her collarbone.
To mask the reddened evidence of her earlier breakdown, she had perched a pair of rimless glasses on the bridge of her nose. The accessory transformed her, adding an air of cold, intellectual detachment to her natural beauty.
Kane noted the change with an approving hum. She was a quick study. She understood that he didn't currently need a sobbing mess or a common seductress; he needed an asset—a high-level secretary capable of overseeing a financial empire worth hundreds of billions.
Stussy moved toward the shattered remains of the wine cabinet. With the grace of a practiced socialite, she salvaged the only bottle of vintage red that hadn't been claimed by the chaos. She produced a crystal glass, polished it to a mirror shine with a silk handkerchief, and glided toward Kane. She remained standing, tilting the bottle to pour from a height of practiced superiority.
Wait.
Kane's voice was low, dragging through the room like a heavy chain. It wasn't a shout, but the sheer weight of authority in it caused Stussy's hands to lock in mid-air. A flicker of raw humiliation sparked in her eyes behind the glass lenses, a remnant of her pride as the Queen of the Underworld, but she strangled the emotion before it could reach her face.
If you are going to be my secretary, then start acting like one. Kane gestured lazily toward the thick wool carpet at his feet, a dark, playful glint in his eyes. Get on your knees. Look up at me while you pour.
The skin over Stussy's knuckles turned white as she gripped the bottle. She was an elite operative of CP0, a woman who held the strings of the world's most dangerous men, yet here she was being treated like a common servant. She stared into Kane's eyes, searching for lust or cruelty, but found only a bottomless, cold possessiveness.
This wasn't about sex. It was a test of total submission. If she couldn't break her own pride here, their partnership—and her life—ended tonight.
The silence in the room stretched for three agonizing seconds. Then, slowly, Stussy lowered herself. Her knees sank into the soft pile of the carpet, but to her, it felt like kneeling on a bed of nails. Her dignity was being stripped away inch by inch.
Yes, Lord Kane.
She tilted her head back, exposing the vulnerable line of her throat to him. Her hands remained steady as she poured the crimson liquid. It hit the glass like falling blood, stopping exactly at the one-third mark.
[Ding! Detected Host has completely privatized a high-level CP0 agent!] [Acquired discipline points: 20,000!]
That is much better. Kane listened to the system's chime with a sense of grim satisfaction. He took the glass but did not drink. Instead, he reached out with his free hand, dragging his thumb across her cheek. He felt the silkiness of her skin and the slight, involuntary tremor of her jaw. I like my tools to be obedient. Do we have an understanding?
Stussy closed her eyes, her long lashes fluttering against her skin. I understand, she whispered.
Good. Now drop the tragic act and get to work. Kane took a sip of the wine and leaned back, his demeanor shifting instantly from a tyrant to a calculating commander. Tell me about the New World. I want to know everything, especially about Roger.
Stussy didn't stand. She remained on her knees, her voice regaining the steady, clinical tone of a master spy. Gol D. Roger crossed paths with the Whitebeard Pirates on a remote island about a week ago. The reports say the two crews clashed with everything they had. The battle raged for three days and three nights without a clear victor.
Kane shifted, his interest piqued. And what was the outcome of this stalemate?
It ended in a draw, but the aftermath was bizarre, Stussy said, her brow furrowing in genuine confusion. Roger did something unexpected. He bowed to Whitebeard and pleaded with him. By the time they parted ways, he had convinced Whitebeard to let the Commander of the Second Division, Kozuki Oden, join his crew.
So, a samurai from the closed borders of Wano is now on Roger's ship? Kane's relaxed posture vanished. His eyes sharpened into two points of cold light.
Yes, Stussy confirmed. Our intelligence is solid. Kozuki Oden has officially boarded the Oro Jackson.
Heh. He didn't just borrow a man; he borrowed a key. Kane downed the rest of his wine in one go, a dark smirk playing on his lips.
Stussy looked up, puzzled. A key?
Kane looked down at her, his expression unreadable. This is why I am the one in charge and you are just a broker. He didn't elaborate on the Poneglyphs or the ancient language Oden could read. Instead, he gave her a heavy, meaningful look. Roger getting his hands on Oden means the puzzle is complete. The path to the Final Island is open. We are officially on the countdown to the birth of the Pirate King.
Stussy's pupils narrowed. She had suspected Roger's ambitions were grand, but she hadn't realized the end was so close. Should we relay this to the higher-ups?
Relay it to who? Those arrogant, slow-witted Celestial Dragons? Kane scoffed, cutting her off with a wave of his hand. By the time they stop stuffing their faces long enough to understand the threat, the world will already be upside down. We keep this to ourselves. I'm going to use this window of time to build my own foundations.
Roger's rise was an inevitability—a storm that would wash away the old world. Kane's goal was to ensure he was the one standing on the highest ground when the flood arrived.
Continue. What else is happening out there?
Stussy adjusted her glasses and moved on to the next file in her mind. Big Mom, Charlotte Linlin, is aggressively expanding her territory in Totto Land. She has developed an obsession with the Giant Race and is looking for a way to artificially create giants. She's also hunting for rare bloodlines to strengthen her family through forced marriages. As for Kaido of the Beasts, he's still digging his heels into Wano Country, but there is a detail of note.
She lowered her voice, even though they were alone. Kaido has been buying massive shipments of a specialized chemical weapon known as Gas. He's using Underworld channels, but the source seems to be linked to a Scientific Unit within the World Government.
Kane's eyes narrowed. A Scientific Unit? Was it Vegapunk's group, or that slime Caesar Clown? Punk Hazard was already becoming a breeding ground for filth. It seemed there was plenty of gold to be mined from that particular swamp.
The briefing continued for a full hour. Stussy proved her worth, dissecting the power structures of the New World, the flow of illegal currency, and the private weaknesses of the world's most dangerous men. Kane realized the seventy billion he had "liberated" was a bargain.
By the time she finished, the moon was high in the sky. The tension in the room shifted from professional to something far more primal. Kane set his empty glass aside and looked at Stussy. She was still kneeling, her shoulders slumped slightly from exhaustion, though her gaze remained fixed on him.
Kane stood up, his joints popping as he stretched his powerful frame. I'm tired.
He didn't head for the door. Instead, he walked toward the massive, plush bed at the back of the office. As he moved, he unfastened his Marine coat—the white fabric with "Justice" emblazoned on the back—and let it fall carelessly to the floor. He reached the edge of the bed and turned back to Stussy, a predatory smile on his face.
Are you waiting for a written invitation, Secretary? Or do you need your master to explain your nighttime duties too?
Stussy bit her lip, a final flicker of hesitation crossing her face, but she rose and walked toward him. This time, it wasn't just about surviving. Watching Kane's insight and his absolute lack of fear toward the World Government had planted a seed of dark ambition in her. If she followed a man who looked at the world like a chessboard, perhaps she could finally escape the role of a pawn.
Yes, Master.
The night that followed was not a negotiation; it was a display of absolute dominance. By the time the first rays of dawn hit the windows, the Queen of Pleasure Town realized she wasn't dealing with a man, but a monster in human skin.
The next morning, sunlight flooded the room through the broken glass. Kane was already dressed, his "Justice" coat draped over his shoulders once more. The word seemed like a mockery in the bright morning light.
Stussy remained huddled under the heavy quilts, her pale skin marked with the dark bruises of the night's intensity. Her body felt shattered, her muscles refusing to obey her will. But when she heard Kane's boots clicking toward the door, she forced herself to sit up, the sheets sliding down her shoulders.
Are you leaving already? Her voice was raw and heavy with a strange, new dependence.
Kane stopped at the door but didn't turn around. He reached into his pocket and flicked a small piece of paper onto the bed. It was a Life Card.
Seven hundred billion a year. That's your target. Keep the books clean, because if I find a single Beri missing, I'll leak the truth about your status as a clone. That secret is worth more than the money.
He finally looked back at her, his eyes cold and businesslike. My location is tied to that card. If the World Government starts sniffing around me, you tell me immediately.
Without another word, Kane walked out, the door swinging shut behind him.
Heartless bastard, Stussy muttered, staring at the Life Card that was already beginning to twitch toward Kane's direction. A bitter, self-deprecating laugh escaped her.
But as the silence of the room settled, the bitterness turned into a dark, morbid excitement. She pressed the Life Card against her chest, her eyes hardening with a new resolve.
What a man... he's more terrifying than any pirate. But I've spent my life being a lapdog for those pigs in Mary Geoise. I think I'd much rather be the claws of a dragon.
She smiled, and for the first time in years, it was genuine. This is going to be much more interesting.
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