It was nearly midnight when Rhett Vane returned to his suite.

The presidential suite at the Golden King Hotel was less a hotel room and more like a palace — an opulent space reminiscent of the luxurious homes Vane remembered from his past life, though this one was far grander.

The floors and walls gleamed with gold, and the decorations were priceless. The furniture was crafted from the rarest materials found across the New World.

After all, this was the Golden King — the only eight-star hotel in the world.

"You're finally back. The food's gone cold," Esdeath muttered, kneeling at the low dining table with Kalifa sitting across from her. On the table were three bowls of rice and four side dishes.

They had been waiting for nearly an hour.

Vane took his seat in the middle, while the two women sat on either side of him.

"It's not cold yet," Kalifa replied. "Still a little warm."

The meal had been ordered and delivered ages ago. Esdeath and Kalifa had expected Vane to return soon, but he'd taken far longer than anticipated — without leaving word on where he'd gone or when he'd be back.

"Vane… you reek of alcohol," Esdeath remarked in an even tone, as though casually reminding him.

Kalifa leaned over, taking a sniff. "You do smell like wine. Just a little."

Vane had only drunk two glasses of red wine, but the scent still lingered.

"Hey, Glasses Girl, you know what this is missing?" Esdeath's voice took on a teasing edge.

"What?" Kalifa raised a brow, genuinely curious. For once, she didn't snap at Esdeath's nickname.

"A woman's touch," Esdeath said, a hint of accusation in her voice.

Kalifa quickly caught the meaning. Esdeath suspected that Vane had snuck off for a tryst.

"I went to see Tesoro," Vane replied, unfazed as he began eating.

The women could be troublesome at times — especially Esdeath, who was notoriously suspicious.

"What for?" Esdeath pressed. "Wasn't there some floozy hanging around him? The kind men can't resist."

She meant Baccarat. But Vane hadn't even glanced at her. At home, there was only Esdeath and Kalifa. Why would he bother with anyone else?

"Tesoro's a useful man," Vane said calmly. "Wouldn't it be a waste not to have him under my command?"

"Of course," Kalifa agreed. "We need to gather more strength. A Pirate Emperor must command powerful forces."

Esdeath arched a brow at that. "So, you went to win him over?"

"Exactly."

"And?"

"It worked."

"Not bad, Vane," Kalifa grinned.

"You've reached the rank of Pirate Emperor," Kalifa added. "To truly rule the seas, you need overwhelming power. It's not enough for a single person to carry that title — the true terror of a Pirate Emperor lies in the force they command."

"True," Vane acknowledged with a nod.

"Well then, Pirate Emperor," Esdeath teased, "it's time to eat properly."

---

Night fell over the Golden City. Rain drummed against the towering banana trees, wind and water dancing together in the darkness.

The next day, Vane woke up late, around ten in the morning.

It was the group's first official day in the Golden City. Vane took Esdeath and Kalifa out to explore. Originally, Baccarat had offered to act as their guide — she knew the city better than anyone, perhaps even better than Tesoro himself. But Vane declined, and neither Esdeath nor Kalifa welcomed her company. Baccarat radiated bad intentions, always wearing a sly, fake smile.

And so, Vane and his women set off alone for their first day in the Golden City.

As expected, the women were excited about shopping. Kalifa, ever the mature, sensual type, still showed a girlish enthusiasm for new clothes.

Esdeath was different. She cared little for fashion and far more about combat. A battle maniac at heart, she'd been itching for a good fight. On their voyages, she occasionally challenged Kalifa, freezing sections of the sea for sparring matches. But as sisters-in-arms, they never fought seriously — it was more playful than practical.

Esdeath had grown restless.

"This is so boring," she grumbled, watching Kalifa sift through racks of clothing.

Kalifa loved shopping. Esdeath, by contrast, owned only a handful of outfits — a black suit, a white suit, some casual wear for home, and two pairs of pajamas.

"Glasses Girl, you're wasting Berries," Esdeath scoffed. "Blowing our man's money like a spoiled brat."

"Then don't come asking to borrow my clothes again when you're too lazy to shop for yourself," Kalifa snapped, glaring daggers at her. They were roughly the same size, and Esdeath had a bad habit of raiding Kalifa's wardrobe.

"I don't need your weird outfits, Glasses Girl. Don't flatter yourself."

Kalifa ignored the jab. "I still need to pick out something for Vane."

The mention of Vane's name instantly shifted Esdeath's focus. There was no way she'd let Kalifa pick out clothes for him alone.

"I'll help too."

And so the two of them descended into a full-blown rivalry over choosing clothes for Vane, leaving him standing there, watching with a bemused smile.

"It's good they can still act like this," Vane thought to himself. "Happy, carefree… it's a good thing."

The first day in Golden City passed uneventfully. They indulged in fine food, bought more clothes than they needed, and strolled through the bustling streets.

Golden City was one of the safest places in the New World — not because it lacked pirates, but because no one dared cause trouble here. Tesoro ruled this domain with absolute authority.

That said, many pirates had already fallen into Tesoro's web, enslaved by their own greed for gold and luxury.

Vane felt no pity for them.

In a world ruled by power, where the strong devoured the weak, those pirates had gambled their freedom for fortune.

They had no one to blame but themselves.

---

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