Half an hour later, my ship’s sailed far from the chaos of that encounter, leaving the so-called Black Panther Pirates in the dust, their sinking wreck long out of sight.
“Thanks a ton, Mr. Bounty Hunter!” Nami says, her voice dripping with exaggerated gratitude. “Looks like those pirates won’t catch up now, so I’ll be on my way.” She flashes a cutesy smile at one of my hired sailors. “Um, big brother sailor, mind sparing a small boat?” With that, she hoists her massive sack of treasure and hightails it toward the ship’s edge.
“Hold up, no need to rush off, Miss Nami,” I call out.
Her eyes squeeze shut at the sound of my voice. She knows it’s never that simple with . Despite the panic I can practically sll, she plasters on a stiff smile and turns around. “Anything… else, Mr. Bounty Hunter?”
I smirk. “Co on, Miss Nami, you didn’t forget, did you? I said before I saved you—I don’t work for free.”
“Huh? Did you say that?” She tilts her head, feigning innocence, then snaps her fingers like she’s just rembered. “Oh, right! But, you know, when you said you wouldn’t help for free, I never actually agreed. Such a sha you went through all that trouble for nothing.”
“So… you’re trying to weasel out of it?” I step toward her, one slow step at a ti.
Nami instinctively backs up, clutching her treasure sack to her chest, her face tightening with nerves. “W-what do you want, Morgan?”
I can’t help but laugh, rubbing my forehead. “You’d sell your soul before you part with a single berry, wouldn’t you?”
She juts her chin out, defiance flashing in her eyes. “Damn right. You’re not getting a cent from .”
I roll my eyes. “Relax, I’m not after your cash. I ca looking for you to talk business—a partnership.”
“Huh?” Nami blinks, caught off guard. “A… partnership? With ?”
“Exactly.” I nod, pointing toward the cabin. “How about we discuss it inside?”
She hesitates, clearly weighing her options. Realizing she’s got no chance of outrunning on my own ship, she nods and follows into the cabin.
——————
The cabin doubles as a small bar—well, on a ship this size, it’s also the dining area. I step behind the counter, grabbing two glasses. “What’ll it be? Booze?” I ask without looking back.
Nami, seated at a table, shakes her head. “No booze. Orange juice, please.”
“Alright, orange juice it is for too.” I pour two glasses and slide one across the table to her as I sit down.
She takes the glass, eyeing warily, like I’m about to spring a trap.
I chuckle. “Do I really seem *that* shady, Miss Nami?”
She studies for a mont. I catch a flicker in her eyes, like she’s noting the way the sunlight hits , maybe thinking I don’t look half bad. But then her expression hardens, no doubt recalling how I played her like a fiddle during our last job together. She’s probably ntally branding as all charm and no substance.
With a forced laugh, she says, “Heh, no way! Our last job together was such a blast.” You’re just too damn sneaky, she adds in her head—I can practically hear it.
“Whatever.” I shrug, seeing she’s not dropping her guard anyti soon. “Let’s cut to the chase, Miss Nami. I’ve got a job that’s taking to South Blue. I know you’re a top-notch navigator, so I want to hire you to get from the East Blue to South Blue.”
“No way,” she says, shutting down flat.
Sure, her dream is to chart the world’s seas, and South Blue’s part of that. But Nami’s not exactly the bravest soul. Plus, she’s got her whole “save the village” mission weighing her down. No wonder she’s not jumping at the chance.
South Blue’s a step easier than the Grand Line, but it still ans tackling Reverse Mountain and sailing into waters way more dangerous than the East Blue—the so-called “weakest sea.” Out there, in unfamiliar territory, with a scheming bounty hunter like ? She’s probably thinking one wrong move could cost her life.
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