Breathing heavily, Kaito Arisawa clenched his right hand beneath the water.
Boom!!
A terrifying grip strength erupted from his fist. The once-still bathwater detonated as though a bomb had exploded beneath the surface. The instant his fingers tightened, a massive column of water shot straight up toward the ceiling.
The water crashed down in all directions, scattering like rain throughout the bath chamber.
"Brother! What's going on in there?!"
The violent explosion of water caused enough commotion to alarm the guards outside.
Beyond the bath chamber doors, in the wide corridor, a towering, broad-shouldered man sat cross-legged like a silent titan. The moment he heard the disturbance, he decisively grabbed the heavy mace resting beside him and rose to his feet, shouting toward the closed door.
This man was Mangu.
He was one of the core members of the Sword Gang—and its number one combat force.
Yes.
Within the Sword Gang, the strongest fighter was not Kaito, the leader.
It was Mangu.
Three years ago, Mangu had been a castaway rescued from the sea by Kaito. Since then, he had become Kaito's most loyal subordinate.
"It's nothing. Stay where you are."
Snapping out of his shock, Kaito heard Mangu's voice through the door. Gathering himself, he gave the order calmly.
"Understood, brother. Call me if you need anything."
Reassured by Kaito's tone, Mangu relaxed. After expressing his concern, he sat down cross-legged once more, placing the savage-looking mace at his side again.
Inside the bath chamber, Kaito slowly raised his right hand from the water. He stared at it for a moment, then brought it closer to his face, finally covering his expression as a low laugh escaped him.
"This is… interesting. So this is the difference talent makes? I was naive before. I thought it would only multiply my physical strength by a few times…"
Practice proved truth.
The phrase couldn't be more accurate.
On paper, after concentrating his talent points, Kaito's Constitution had increased a little over five times.
But after actually experiencing it firsthand, he realized the change went far beyond that.
From the simple test of grip strength just now, he could tell that his power had increased by far more than five times.
More like fifty.
The sheer disparity left no room for doubt—the amplification effect of talent was vastly greater than he had imagined.
Excitement surged through him.
He was just about to conduct further testing—
Footsteps.
Rapid.
Urgent.
They approached from outside the bath chamber and stopped at the sliding door. A second later, the door was pulled open.
Given that Mangu had not announced the visitor, it was clear this person was no ordinary member of the Sword Gang. Only one individual within the organization was afforded such direct access.
As the door slid aside, a tall woman stepped into the room.
She had long black hair and wore attire resembling a tailored women's suit. A fitted hip skirt and black stockings accentuated her long legs, giving her an imposing and elegant presence.
Yet compared to her figure, her face seemed strikingly ordinary—plain enough to inspire a faint sense of regret at first glance.
Kaito frowned slightly at her sudden entrance, suppressing his desire to continue testing his strength.
"Why the rush? What happened, Robin?"
Nico Robin.
That was the woman's name.
The ordinary appearance was nothing more than careful disguise—achieved through makeup. The World Government had been relentlessly pursuing her for years. If her true identity were exposed, the Sword Gang's power would not be enough to shield her.
Even before regaining memories of his past life, Kaito had known she carried dangerous secrets. Now, with those memories restored, he understood her situation far more clearly.
Originally, he had taken her in not only because of her beauty, but also because of her exceptional management skills.
Robin's gaze naturally fell upon Kaito in the bath.
She showed no embarrassment, no attempt to avert her eyes. She was accustomed to such scenes. Her expression remained composed as she spoke.
"There's news from our men. A group suspected to be members of the Eight Treasures Navy has entered town. They're causing trouble—and several of our people have already been injured."
Her tone was solemn.
"TheEight Treasures Navy?"
Kaito's eyes sharpened instantly.
He understood exactly why she had rushed in.
The name alone carried weight.
"Bring me my clothes and my swords. Mangu—assemble everyone in command."
The first instruction was directed at Robin. The second was meant for Mangu outside the door.
"Got it, brother!"
Without hesitation, Mangu grabbed his mace and strode off to carry out the order.
Inside the bath chamber, Robin moved swiftly to retrieve a fresh change of clothes and two long swords sheathed in dark purple scabbards from a nearby rack.
Kaito rose from the bath.
Under Robin's assistance, he dressed quickly. The two swords were secured at his left hip.
His attire resembled a hybrid between a formal suit and a military uniform—sleek, tailored, and sharply fitted. The black fabric was trimmed with gold accents.
On his tall frame, the outfit made him appear dignified, imposing—almost regal.
"Let's go. I want to see what this famous Eight Treasures Navy is really like."
His expression turned cold as he strode out of the bath chamber without hesitation.
Robin followed closely behind.
Soon, they reached the open grounds before the manor.
Under the summoning order issued by Mangu, hundreds of Sword Gang members had already assembled in orderly ranks.
Swords hung at their waists.
Rifles rested in their hands.
Each man stood tall and disciplined, wearing uniforms identical in style to Kaito's own.
Anyone unfamiliar with the Sword Gang would never mistake them for ordinary gangsters.
They looked like a regular army.
The Sword Gang numbered roughly fifteen hundred members. By sheer numbers alone, they could only be considered a third-rate organization among the many gangs of West Blue.
But numbers were misleading.
Every single member of the Sword Gang was an elite personally trained by Kaito—funded with nearly all the money he had accumulated in preparation for one day setting sail.
They were not mere street thugs.
They were soldiers.
A well-trained force forged for war.
In terms of combat effectiveness, these fifteen hundred men were capable of standing against gangs ten times their size.
Ordinary gangsters were nothing more than unruly hooligans.
How could they compare to disciplined fighters like this?
The few hundred gathered here represented only part of their strength. Most members were stationed throughout their territories on routine guard duty.
Even so—
The sight of several hundred uniformed fighters assembled in formation was undeniably imposing.
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