Fenric watched One Leaf Knows Autumn leave without so much as a change in expression.
A bounty? Good. Let them come.
He’d cleared the first floor of the Samsara Tower and was preparing for the second. At this stage, hardly anyone who could enter the same tier outclassed him—and he still held his greatest cheat: he knew the plot.
Hunted in future dungeons? Please.
He’d killed Solis Armand and walked away with the Black Blade Shusui. Who knew what the next fool would bring him?
He waved open a private room—cost: 300 points—and stepped inside.
Outside, the bar erupted the second Shura vanished behind the door.
"Holy crap, Shura and One Leaf Knows Autumn just went toe‑to‑toe!"
"If Shura had backed down a little, maybe it wouldn’t have blown up..."
"Back down? You drunk? One Leaf showed up to collect nothing!"
"Forget that—anyone here gonna try for that Devil Fruit bounty?"
"Tempting as hell. But c’mon—two straight SSS clears? Shura’s not easy meat."
"Still... trouble’s coming."
"Yeah. With talent like his, if he survives, he could catch up to One Leaf... maybe even fight Adam someday!"
"Heads up—someone just went into Shura’s room."
"That’s... Normanov from Cindralock Dominion of West!"
"He’s not on the Top 100, but he’s big. Has to be here on behalf of the Cindralock government."
"Shura boss, don’t sell to the Cindralock Dominion!"
Inside the box, it was quiet.
"Hello, Mr. Shura." The newcomer spoke smoothly. "My name is Normanov. I’m very interested in the strategy you hold. Name your price?"
Fenric had already written him off.
He was selfish—but not without a brain. Selling the ’Zombie World War’ strat to a foreign power was no different from arming rivals.
Still, showing the door too fast would kill leverage. Let foreign interest stoke domestic urgency; let bids climb.
"Mr. Normanov," Fenric said politely, "why don’t you open with an offer? Show me some sincerity."
Normanov considered, then leaned in.
"Mr. Shura, I’m here on behalf of the Cindralock government. Sell us the ’Zombie World War’ clear route and you’ll receive immediate immigration rights to the Cindralock Dominion—the most powerful nation in the world."
He smiled. "You will also gain my personal friendship with Adam—yes, that Adam, the S‑rank on the Global List. The trouble you’ve just stirred up? Adam can make it disappear."
Fenric’s face cooled instantly.
"If that’s your sincerity," he said, "you can leave."
A flicker of annoyance broke Normanov’s practiced calm. A newcomer talking to him without honorifics? But he swallowed it.
"Mr. Shura, think carefully. The Cindralock Dominion’s friendship isn’t something everyone enjoys."
Silence. Fenric just looked at him as if looking at a fool.
Normanov’s jaw tightened. "Fine. I’ll add a special item. Does that satisfy you?"
Fenric actually laughed. "Normanov," he said lightly, "please leave."
The man stood, eyes cold. "You’ll regret this decision."
He strode out.
When Normanov emerged tight‑lipped and empty‑handed, the bar broke into excited chatter.
"Ha! He got nothing!"
"Good—don’t sell to foreigners!"
"Shura boss holds the line!"
"F**k—look! Someone else just came in!"
All heads snapped to the door.
A woman entered.
She wore fitted combat armor; her hair was pulled back in a clean, practical ponytail. Sword‑browed, bright‑eyed, sharp‑boned—heroic. She moved like a battlefield officer, and the pressure that rolled off her made the air feel thinner.
Conversation died as she crossed the threshold. Every gaze followed her toward Shura’s room.