After the storm of passion, strands of golden hair clung to Kalifa's forehead, her glasses—still not taken off—had slid down to the bridge of her nose. Her breathing was slightly ragged as she collapsed, limp, on top of Carl.
Compared to the completely exhausted Kalifa, Carl didn't show the slightest hint of fatigue. One hand rested casually on Kalifa's waist, while the other made a slight gesture, and a cigarette flew into the air, landing precisely between his index and middle fingers.
The cigarette lit itself in midair. Carl took a drag and exhaled a stream of pale gray smoke. He looked perfectly content.
Kalifa looked up at Carl. Even now, with only the sound of heavy breathing filling the bedroom...
She still felt like this wasn't real.
Not long ago, she had merely been a low-ranking agent of CP9—and now, she had become the woman of Carl.
Kalifa clearly remembered how, when she was being hunted by the World Government, even her own father, Laskey, had abandoned her without hesitation. If Carl hadn't appeared out of nowhere back then, she wouldn't even know where she'd be now.
From a young age, Kalifa had sworn loyalty to the World Government. But from the moment Carl saved her, that vague, abstract image of the World Government in her heart took a clear shape—it became Carl.
And to be fair, Carl did represent the will of the World Government. Kalifa's belief wasn't misplaced in the slightest.
She wasn't the only one to think this way—people like Aramaki and the father-son duo of Spandam and Spandine shared the same perspective.
She had always been prepared to give her life for a mission, so naturally, she could give everything to Carl as well.
It was just that... she never imagined—no, never dared to imagine—she would give her body to Carl. To her, that wasn't a sacrifice... it was a gift. A reward from Carl.
And that wasn't an exaggeration—especially for someone like Kalifa, who had been indoctrinated from childhood as a government agent.
Thinking about everything she had now, Kalifa was suddenly overwhelmed by a powerful sense of happiness. Her gaze at Carl grew more dazed, filled with longing.
...
At the same time, Carl noticed Kalifa's body was getting warmer again. Somewhat surprised, he glanced down at her, wondering if she was aroused again—even though just moments ago she looked completely spent.
Sure, Kalifa was an elite CP9 agent, with a body far surpassing that of an ordinary person. But compared to Carl's maid squad, she was still lacking—after all, those women started at Seven Warlords of the Sea level.
The fact that she could last a whole night with Carl was already her limit. And Carl wasn't some kind of sadist. In his view, if only one party was enjoying it while the other was in pain, then it wasn't worth doing at all.
Besides, with his perception skills, gauging whether Kalifa had reached her physical limits was effortless. He had just confirmed she was already "done." But looking at her now, he started to question his own judgment.
The cigarette between Carl's fingers dissolved into nothingness, swallowed by a wisp of black mist. He shifted slightly, pulling Kalifa up so that she was facing him.
Being so close to Carl's face, Kalifa instantly started to emit pink, heart-shaped bubbles above her head. Carl chuckled and said,
"What are you staring at? Too tired?"
Kalifa shook her head, replying in a soft, syrupy tone,
"I'm not tired. As long as Carl-sama is satisfied."
Hearing her voice, Carl immediately confirmed that she was "out of commission." He smiled and said,
"No need to keep calling me 'sama' and all that. From now on, just call me 'Young Master' like Monet and the others."
Kalifa blinked a couple of times, then her expression brightened. Still, she hesitated slightly and said,
"Is that really okay? Wouldn't that be breaking protocol?"
"What protocol? Whether it's here or out there... My word is the protocol. As my woman, shouldn't you at least have that kind of awareness?"
Hearing his domineering words, Kalifa's heart fluttered, and her body instinctively squirmed against Carl—causing him to tighten his embrace slightly and say,
"Don't move. In your current state, it's best to behave."
Kalifa's cheeks flushed red, mixed with a trace of shame. In her eyes, Lady Lucia had entrusted her with the important task of sharing Carl-sama's bed, and yet she had failed to bring him full satisfaction. It was simply unforgivable incompetence.
At that moment, Kalifa suddenly thought of Monet and Sugar—the sisters. Her heart stirred. Wait... didn't she also have a younger sister?
Her name was... Alpha, right?
Indeed, Kalifa did have a younger sister named Alpha. But because of their awful father, they had been separated since childhood and sent to different intelligence units. Over the years, because of the secrecy of their assignments, they never had any contact. Kalifa had almost forgotten she even had a sister.
Carl noticed she was dazing off again and gently hooked a finger under her chin, smiling as he asked,
"Spacing out again? What are you thinking about this time?"
Kalifa came back to her senses and said somewhat shyly,
"Young Master... actually, I have a younger sister..."
"Hm? You have a sister?"
Carl blinked, caught off guard. For a moment, he couldn't place who Kalifa's sister could be. Was there a character in One Piece he didn't know about?
But then again, that was possible—One Piece hadn't ended yet during his time, and new characters were still being introduced.
He leaned forward with interest and asked,
"What's her name? What does she do?"
"Her name is Alpha. She's currently with CP8."
"Alpha... Oh, right. I remember now. She's your sister?"
Kalifa looked at Carl in surprise.
"Young Master, you know Alpha?"
Carl nodded.
"Yeah. I heard about her by chance."
As he spoke, Carl began to recall what he knew about Alpha.
At first, he'd thought she might be a new character he hadn't seen yet. But once Kalifa mentioned her name and background, he remembered Alpha immediately.
In the original anime, Alpha was a World Government agent assigned to monitor Bonney. She had appeared in the form of a sexy nurse. Carl had never known she was Kalifa's sister.
Now that he did, it made sense—the two sisters really did resemble each other. Both had similar faces and figures, both wore glasses, and both loved wearing thigh-high stockings to show off their long, shapely legs.
The only major difference was hair color—Alpha's hair was a soft, refreshing light blue.
Carl figured Kalifa might be bringing her up because she wanted him to look out for her—maybe help her get promoted or something. So he asked,
"Kalifa, is your sister asking for something?"
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+110 chapters on p@treon/tambeerg