Night draped Gran Tesoro in velvet, the air as cool and clear as seawater beneath the moon. It was well past ten when Rhett Vane and his crew retired to the presidential suite of the Golden King Hotel, the city's most extravagant sanctuary. Their luggage had barely settled before Vane slipped out, the door clicking shut behind him.
"Where is he going at this hour?" Esdeath muttered, towel-drying her hair as Kalifa relayed the news. A flicker of disappointment crossed her face, quickly masked by a huff. "Tch—let him wander."
"Vane-sama will be back soon," Kalifa assured her with a shrug.
On the top floor, Gild Tesoro sprawled across a velvet sofa, swirling crimson New World wine in a goblet of living gold. A delicate Den-Den Mushi on the side table began to ring, its shell painted the white-and-gold livery reserved for Mary Geoise, stronghold of the Celestial Dragons. Baccarat inclined her head. "It has rung for nearly a minute, Tesoro-sama. It sounds important."
Tesoro's jaw tightened. Hatred for the Celestial Dragons tugged at every memory—Stella's chains, his own scars—but Gran Tesoro's safety rested on their indulgence. Tribute in Berries bought silence, and money was a language he spoke fluently.
With a resigned breath he answered.
A haughty male voice snapped from the snail. "Tesoro, has my son arrived yet? He left Mary Geoise half a month ago. If anything happens to him, the consequences will be… unpleasant for insects like you."
Tesoro's knuckles whitened around the receiver, but before he replied, the suite doors parted and Vane strode in, hands in his coat pockets, eyes calm.
"Tesoro!" the Celestial Dragon barked. "Respond when royalty speaks!"
"That's right," sneered a female voice. "Secure my son. Provide one hundred high-grade female slaves and a billion Berries for his entertainment."
Vane took a seat opposite Tesoro, lips curving in faint amusement. "If you're so worried about your piglet," he said loudly enough for the snail, "why let him wander from the pen?"
Tesoro's shoulders shook, Baccarat bit her lip, choking back laughter.
"Who dares call a Celestial Dragon a pig?" the woman shrieked. "Tesoro, who is that?"
Vane plucked up the Den-Den Mushi. "Rhett Vane. Perhaps you've heard—three of your fellow Dragons already decorate the sea floor courtesy of me. A few days ago I removed another who strutted around with CP0." He paused. "If that was your son, my condolences. I suspect a Sea King finished the leftovers."
A strangled howl ripped through the line. "You—monster! Tesoro, I will—"
"I've told you." Vane's tone was light, almost friendly. "Search the New World's reefs. And enjoy the days you have left; your turn is coming."
The Den-Den Mushi fainted, receiver clacking against the table.
For a beat only Tesoro's ragged breaths filled the suite. Then he threw back his head and laughed—soft at first, swelling into manic peals that echoed off golden walls. Baccarat finally let her giggle escape. Vane simply leaned back, eyes reflecting the glittering city beyond the glass. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs No(ᴠ)ᴇlFire.nᴇt
In a world where Berries rule all, Gran Tesoro glittered tonight for him alone.
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