One of the Skillful Grade Blades—Kariumi!
The very first auction item detonated the entire room like a spark in dry grass.
As spotlights blazed onto the long glass case holding the blade, a collective hunger ignited in the eyes of the crowd. Greed shimmered. Tension mounted.
Those who practiced the sword arts were the most enthralled, their gazes burning with desire. Some even looked ready to leap onto the stage and snatch it by force.
Under the spotlight’s gleam, the sword known as Kariumi radiated a silvery-white sheen—its edge whispering of death.
The auctioneer, clad in a black tailcoat, looked pleased with the reaction. His impassioned voice rang out over the mic, echoing across the grand hall:
"This sword—Kariumi—was forged over ten years by a master smith of the South Blue. In the hands of a great swordsman, it once split the sea in a single swing. It gained the name ’Kariumi’—Hunter of the Sea!"
"The blade is at least 30% heavier than most of its class, significantly increasing strike force. As one of the rare fifty Skillful Grade Blades, its value needs no further elaboration."
"Well then—no more delay. The starting bid is..."
With a flourish, he raised both hands.
"One hundred million berries!!"
The moment the words left his mouth, a wild-looking pirate dressed in ronin garb leapt to his feet. A long sword hung at his waist. His eyes blazed.
"One hundred and twenty million berries!!"
Laughter boomed from another direction.
"Hahaha!! Kenshin, you sword-swinging freak—this one’s not yours to take!"
A deep, growling voice emerged from a hulking bald man with a giant axe strapped to his back. He radiated bloodlust like a beast.
"I bid one hundred and thirty million!"
His eyes locked onto the ronin with open hostility—clearly more than just a bidding war.
"Brutebear! You bastard, you’re not even a swordsman!" Kenshin snarled, teeth clenched.
"So what? Plenty of swordsmen in my crew."
It was obvious to everyone—this was more than competition. This was personal.
The bidding roared on below.
Up in the luxury suite, the room was thick with cigar smoke. Sengoku had two cigars in his mouth at once, the air around him hazy and pungent.
"That’s a fine blade."
He glanced at the Skillful Grade Blade Kariumi, nodding with genuine appreciation.
In this vast sea, the Skillful Grade Blades were already elite. The rarer Great Grade Blades and the near-mythic Supreme Grade Blades were nearly impossible to find—most already in the hands of top-tier fighters.
He remembered the gift he once gave Gion for her birthday—Konpira, a Great Grade Blade. Just acquiring that had taken months of favors, influence, and persistence.
A clear sign of how precious named swords were in this world.
And now—Lu Feld, the so-called "Loan Shark King," had chosen to begin the auction with a Skillful Grade Blade?
Everyone knew: the best items were saved for last.
To lead with something of this caliber—it spoke volumes about the underworld’s vast resources.
"Still... the bidding’s going high. Even for a Skillful Grade Blade, one hundred million is usually the max."
As the current bid climbed to 150 million, Sengoku shook his head, clearly unimpressed by the heated rivalry between Kenshin and Brutebear.
"Pirates—always impulsive and idiotic..."
Then came a calm voice.
"I bid two hundred million."
Darren sat there, legs crossed, completely unbothered.
"Suite 3A has bid two hundred million berries!!" the auctioneer shouted in delight, nearly jumping.
"Our honored guest shows once again why he is worthy of VIP status—what generosity!"
Silence blanketed the hall. All eyes turned toward Suite 3A, stunned.
Especially Brutebear and Kenshin—who stood there dumbfounded.
Who the hell bids like that?
Everyone else had been increasing in five-to-ten million increments—and here comes someone jumping fifty million like it was nothing?
"You lunatic!! It’s just a Skillful Grade Blade! Not even a Great Grade!"
Sengoku grabbed Darren’s collar, looking like he might explode.
"Two hundred million! Do you know how many things you could do with that!?"
"That sword’s not worth two hundred million!"
Darren, unfazed, replied coolly:
"It’s just two hundred million. I think it’s fair."
Sengoku looked as if lightning had struck him.
"Two hundred million... just...?"
His mind spun—calculating what that could buy: two warships, gear for two hundred elite soldiers, wages for two thousand troops—
"But you don’t even use swords!!"
He was practically gnashing his teeth.
"Collecting named swords is my hobby."
A gleam of steel flashed in his eyes.
Kariumi had a "heavy" property that enhanced slashing force—something Darren valued.
His magnetic blade control had become increasingly refined. His primary weapon, Enma, was powerful but drained Haki at an alarming rate.
A backup blade—one that required no Haki—would make his strategy more flexible.
Especially in large-scale battles, one Enma wasn’t enough.
Ideally, Darren wanted to collect more named blades. Dozens. Hundreds.
An entire sword array controlled by magnetism—transforming into a storm of blades raining from the sky.
Even without Haki, their sheer sharpness and cutting power—when guided by magnetic force—could far exceed conventional artillery.
And as for the price?
Don’t be ridiculous. With the treasure from Skypiea’s golden city in his pocket—
Darren was rich beyond belief.
He couldn’t run out of money if he tried.
And collecting legendary swords?
It wasn’t about "worth." It was about vision.
Only fifty such blades existed in the world.
Any price was justified.
Two hundred million berries was nothing.