Nami was trying with great effort. Her technique—combining the sweeping motion of her tongue with the gentle, teasing nibble of her teeth—was improving by the moment. Yet, the better she performed, the more guilt Darian felt.
He thought of what an incredibly strong, independent girl Nami was. To buy back Cocoyasi Village, she had hovered on the brink of life and death countless times and endured eight years of untold hardship. Yet, this very same proud, stubborn girl was now kneeling on the wooden deck in the moonlight, willingly performing this act for him—and doing so even while she herself was cramping and feeling unwell.
Unless a girl truly loved you, what normal girl of her pride would ever be willing to do something like this?
Since she was currently on her period, Nami wasn't at her physical best. After working for just a short while, she was already beginning to pant softly, her breath hot against his skin.
Such an act is inherently meant to heighten arousal. Although Darian was thoroughly enjoying it—his head thrown back against the leather chair, his hands buried in her orange hair—Nami was clearly growing tired.
"Nami," Darian groaned softly, his voice thick with lust and affection. "If you're too tired, or you're hurting, just stop. You don't have to."
Hearing Darian say this, Nami released him. She worked her jaw—which felt a bit sore and numb—and took a few gasping breaths before looking up at him with a glare of pure annoyance.
"Don't you dare say that to me while wearing such a look of absolute, stupid enjoyment on your face!" Nami scolded, wiping the corner of her mouth. "Have you no shame? If I weren't worried you'd be suffering from your gross pent-up frustration, I wouldn't be doing this at all!"
Although it was physically inconvenient for her to be doing such things right now, Nami was nonetheless feeling a stir of arousal herself; her cheeks were flushed a deep red, making her look incredibly cute in the moonlight.
Watching Nami strive so earnestly to take care of him did indeed give Darian a distinct, primal sense of conquest. He thoroughly enjoyed this indulgence, yet deep down, he was genuinely concerned for her well-being.
Feeling a moment of awkward guilt, Darian replied, "I really meant it, Nami. I appreciate it, but I don't want you to push yourself."
Gazing at Darian, Nami rolled her eyes at him.
"Such a hypocrite. If you really felt that way, why are your hips still moving?"
As she spoke, Nami grasped his rigid length firmly. She leaned forward, using the flat of her tongue to swirl around the sensitive ridge.
To his surprise, Nami's technique rivaled that of an experienced professional—she was a fast learner who had mastered this move entirely through trial and error. The intense stimulation caused Darian's entire body to go rigid, his toes curling in his boots.
Noticing Darian's stiffened posture, Nami took the tip deep into her throat. She gave a gentle, teasing nip with her teeth right at the base, and in that very instant, frantically rubbed the sensitive head with her tongue while sucking vigorously.
Almost instantaneously, Darian instinctively grabbed a handful of Nami's short orange hair, and his body began to tremble uncontrollably.
Sensing Darian's trembling—and feeling him suddenly swell to his absolute limit—Nami immediately held her breath, bracing herself for the impending impact.
Moments later, the fluid surged forth violently, slamming against the back of her throat.
She pulled back, coughing, letting the heavy volume spill from her lips.
Cough! Cough! Cough!!
"You bastard," Nami wheezed, glaring up at him through watering eyes. "It's like a firehose every single time!"
After coughing a few times—and despite her complaints—Nami simply wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and offered a small, tired smile.
Watching Nami look so distressed—clearly disliking the overwhelming finish, yet enduring it all for his sake—Darian felt a profound pang of affection mixed with guilt.
He hurriedly used his Hungry Ghost Path (Absorption) to instantly clean the mess from her face and the deck, then pulled his trousers back on.
Gazing at Nami, whose cheeks were still flushed with a rosy glow, Darian leaned forward and lifted her effortlessly onto his lap. Nami, in turn, dutifully wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her head against his broad shoulder, resting.
The warmth and intimacy shared in the aftermath are crucial. What women detest most is a partner who treats them like a tool, who simply "pulls up his pants and walks away" the moment he's satisfied.
While the act of "Dual Cultivation" itself was exhilarating and boosted his power, Darian cherished these quiet moments—spending time simply holding her soft body, chatting with her, and providing her with a sense of security and affection that satisfied both her body and her soul.
"I love you, Nami," Darian whispered softly into her ear, resting his chin on her head. "I really do."
Holding him close, Nami felt her heart skip a beat. She buried her face in his neck, blushing with genuine embarrassment.
"You shameless idiot," Nami mumbled into his shirt. "Tell me—what exactly are you plotting this time?"
She asked suspiciously; she knew that whenever Darian had a mischievous, lecherous scheme brewing involving the other women, he would invariably resort to overly affectionate flattery to butter her up first.
"What makes you say that? I'm being completely sincere!" Darian replied, wearing a look of utter, wounded earnestness.
Given that Darian had been so relentlessly attentive—and considering how many other beautiful women had boarded the ship over the past few days—Nami felt a flicker of genuine delight. Feigning reluctance, she finally conceded. "Fine... I'll take your word for it. This time."
Darian smiled, gently stroking Nami's hand. "How are the girls settling in? Is it too cramped with you, Vivi, and Marianne sharing a room?"
"Not at all!" Nami replied. "Marianne is tiny; she barely takes up any space. Besides, she was terrified to sleep anywhere near you. It was you—you big dummy—who really scared the poor girl yesterday with all that lightning."
At that, Darian could only offer an awkward, apologetic smile.
"How is Vivi doing?" Darian asked next, changing the subject.
Speaking of Vivi, a look of deep worry involuntarily crossed Nami's face. "It said in today's newspaper that violent civil unrest has broken out in Alabasta again. The rebel army is mobilizing. I didn't even dare show the paper to her! She's so stressed already."
"Is that so? Well, I suppose it can't be helped," Darian sighed, knowing the plot was accelerating. Crocodile was making his move.
"Do we really have to help her?" Nami asked softly, looking up at him. "We're going up against a Warlord."
At that, Darian rolled his eyes playfully. "Didn't you promise her? You're the one who accepted the billion-Berry contract—not me!"
Hearing Darian's response, Nami's face immediately darkened, a guilty blush spreading across her cheeks.
Seeing this, Darian quickly added, squeezing her waist, "Of course we're going to help her. As long as you want to save that country, I'll beat Crocodile into oblivion for you. Consider it part of the service."
Nami really was something else; she held the purse strings and made the deals, yet it was always Darian who had to do all the heavy lifting and fighting.
With Darian changing his tune, Nami looked pleased, though she still voiced a lingering concern. "Are you sure you can really handle him? He's one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea."
When it came to Crocodile, even Darian didn't dare make absolute guarantees. Crocodile was a seasoned veteran, a Logia user who had fought in the New World. Luffy's victory over him in the original timeline had relied heavily on plot armor and sheer luck.
Nevertheless, wanting to put Nami's mind at ease, Darian replied confidently. "No problem at all. His Sand-Sand Fruit has a fatal weakness. Just leave it to me when the time comes."
Seeing Darian's confident demeanor—and recalling how effortlessly he had defeated Arlong and Krieg—Nami couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
Money-obsessed though she might be, Nami genuinely wanted to help Vivi. After spending a few days together, she had realized that Vivi truly was a wonderful, selfless girl who reminded Nami of herself when she was trying to save Cocoyasi.
Holding Nami close, the two of them talked for a long time. It wasn't until late into the night that Nami finally headed back to her room to rest, leaving Darian alone on the deck to enjoy the breeze and finish his watch.
Back in her bed, after Nami had lain down to rest, Vivi—who had been sleeping in the adjacent cot—rolled over. Though her eyes had been closed just moments before, she now opened them wide in the dark. She had heard everything.
The Next Morning.
"Darian, wake up—quick!"
Darian, who had fallen asleep in the captain's chair near dawn, was jolted awake by a sharp slap right to his forehead.
"What's going on?" Darian asked groggily, rubbing his eyes.
Looking visibly anxious, Nami pointed toward the stern. "Marine ships! They're catching up to us!"
At her words, Darian rushed to the railing.
He didn't see Smoker's ship. He saw a medium-sized Marine warship with a distinctive, cage-like superstructure, flanked by four smaller pursuit vessels. They were bearing down on them fast.
Before Darian could even process the flag, a massive barrage of black iron spears hurtled through the air, launched from the lead warship, aimed straight for the Little Fish.
"Holy crap!"
There was no time to think. Darian instantly shifted into combat mode.
"Gear Second!"
Steam hissed from his body as his blood flow accelerated. Putting all his tenfold power into his legs, he leaped into the air.
CRACK!
Beneath his feet, the wooden deck—unable to withstand such immense, sudden kinetic force—splintered and caved in under the overwhelming strain.
As he rocketed upward to intercept the barrage, Darian drew his right arm back like a taut bowstring. He didn't use lightning. He focused entirely on the Asura Path (Vibration).
He channeled the highest frequency oscillation he could muster into his fist and unleashed a devastating punch directly into the empty air in front of the spears.
"Asura Path: Air Quake Fist!"
KRAAACK!
His fist struck the air, producing a sharp, deafening sound—as if a massive, invisible mirror had just shattered.
Centered on his knuckles, massive, white-glowing fissures spread outward. The cracks exploded across the sky like a colossal spiderweb of fractured space.
BOOM!
A terrifying shockwave rippled out, unleashing a blast of sheer, localized kinetic force. The tight formation of heavy steel spears hurtling toward the pirate ship instantly disintegrated. Every single iron shaft was violently deflected, bent, and scattered into the ocean by the concussive wave.
Beneath the violent agitation of the shockwave, the surface of the sea began to churn and froth.
Landing heavily back on the deck of his ship, Darian finally had a moment to size up the enemy before him.
Standing on the bow of the lead warship, wearing a burgundy suit and smoking a slim cigarette, was Captain Hina. The "Black Cage."
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