"I'm just a Mechanic who's sick of seeing good iron in the hands of trash."
Jeno spat a screw into the gutter and wiped a smear of grease across his jaw. He slammed his hydraulic power hammer onto the deck. BANG. The vibration rattled the teeth of everyone standing near the gunwale.
Ace looked at the man—a jagged silhouette of muscle and steam-hissing pistons—and felt a surge of genuine approval. This wasn't a subordinate; this was an artist of violence.
"We need the best Black Steel to reinforce the Eclipse," Ace said, his voice cutting through the hiss of Jeno's exoskeleton. "As a Mechanic, you know where the hoard is. Name your price."
Jeno squinted, his goggles reflecting the black hull of the ship. "Top-tier steel isn't scrap, kid. It's a king's ransom." He hoisted his massive hammer and strode toward the gangplank. "Let's see the boat first. If it's just a floating coffin, it doesn't deserve the metal I'm thinking of."
The Private Berth. Ferrum Harbor.
Standing before the Eclipse, Jeno's rough, ruffian-like demeanor evaporated. His eyes, visible behind the dark lenses of his goggles, lit up with a feverish intensity.
He shoved Buggy aside—sending the clown sprawling—and stormed onto the deck. He ran a calloused, oil-stained hand along the pitch-black railing as if stroking the skin of a lover.
"Adam Wood core... anti-corrosive plating... a teardrop hydrodynamic profile..." Jeno muttered, knocking on the deck. "This isn't a boat. This is a predator born for high-pressure currents and sheer speed."
But as his gaze moved to the ram at the bow and the waterline, his brow furrowed.
"It's a masterpiece with a glass jaw," Jeno grunted, looking back at Ace. "The Grand Line is a meat grinder. You'll hit reefs, Sea Kings, or Marine ironclads. Your bow is a standard alloy. One head-on collision at top speed and she'll split like a dry log. You need a ram and a keel-spine forged from Stellar Obsidian."
"Then we'll use Stellar Obsidian," Ace said without hesitation.
"You can't buy it, genius." Jeno scratched his silver hair, his mechanical arm whirring. "The Iron Dukes have seized every scrap of high-grade ore on the island to fuel their civil war."
Carina stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. "They're fighting a war. Wars need money. If we pay their price, why wouldn't they sell?"
"Because this isn't for the war," Jeno sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "It's for their lives. The World Government doesn't care if this country burns to the ground, as long as they get their cut. The deadline for this year's Heavenly Gold is days away."
"If the tribute isn't met, Ferrum loses its status as a member nation. The Marines will sail in and 'sanitize' the island. To save their own skins, the Dukes called a ceasefire. They've scoured the nation for the finest obsidian, jewelry, and even a rare Devil Fruit from the black market—all to appease the bastards in Mary Geoise."
Jeno gripped his hammer handle until the metal groaned. "I've been eyeing that steel fortress where they're storing the tribute for months. I want that obsidian. But it's guarded by thousands of troops and a wall of artillery. Alone, I can't even crack the front gate."
Carina's face went bone-white at the mention of the Heavenly Gold.
"You want to rob the Celestial Dragons?!" she whispered, a chill running down her spine. "That's a death sentence! If we touch that gold, we aren't just pirates—we're enemies of the World. An Admiral will hunt us to the ends of the earth!"
Buggy's knees buckled. "It's over... we're dead. This madman is going to get us erased from history."
Unlike the others, Sabo simply adjusted his hat, a cold look of disgust for the Celestial Dragons hardening his features.
Ace, however, didn't show fear. Instead, he radiated a terrifying, aggressive sharpness.
"Then we do it together."
Ace looked at Jeno, his tone as calm as a predator in the tall grass. "You lead the way. We blast the fortress open. The obsidian is yours to upgrade this ship and yourself. The treasure and the Devil Fruit go to the Eclipse. Once the smoke clears, you join us as our Mechanic."
Jeno froze. He stared at Ace as if seeing a lunatic even more unhinged than himself.
"Do you even understand what seizing the Heavenly Gold means?" Jeno barked. "There will be no hole deep enough to hide in. Aren't you afraid?"
"Afraid?"
Ace stepped forward, his tall frame casting a shadow that seemed to weigh down the air.
"It's just gold. Why should I care who thinks they own it?" Ace's voice was steady and overbearing. "My path is a straight line. Sooner or later, I will clash with the 'Gods' in Mary Geoise and the Five Elders who pull the strings."
"I didn't set sail to follow rules. I'm going to the top. I'm going to become the strongest so that no 'God' can ever look down on me again."
Ace's black eyes burned with a wild, untamed ambition.
"If they think they're superior, I'll pull them off their thrones and trample them. I'll be the one who sets the rules. Anyone in my way—Dukes, Dragons, or Admirals—will be crushed."
The deck went silent.
Jeno stared at him. No fake heroics. No empty slogans. Just the purest, most arrogant refusal to be constrained. This man wanted to tear a hole in the sky simply because he didn't like looking up at it.
It was the most beautiful thing Jeno had ever heard.
"Hah... Hahahaha!"
Jeno's laugh was a harsh, metallic bark. He hoisted the battleship-cannon hammer onto his shoulder, his exoskeleton venting a massive cloud of steam.
"Robbing the Celestial Dragons? This suicidal, glorious business... I'm in!"
A manic fire ignited in Jeno's eyes. "Bring your crew, Captain! Let's go turn that fortress into a scrap heap!"
Carina clutched her forehead, her rational mind screaming for her to run. But as she pictured the mountains of gold and the Devil Fruit, her greed finally wrestled her fear into submission.
"Fine!" she snapped, her eyes turning sharp and calculating. "We rob them. But every single Berry in that vault is mine to count! Even if an Admiral is breathing down our necks, I'm not leaving a single coin behind!"
Ace laughed heartily, clapping her on the shoulder before turning toward the shore.
"Sabo, Leona—gear up. It's time to work."
"Let's see what kind of 'tribute' these Dukes have gathered for us."
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