"Captain, we really lived?!"
Amidst the cheers, one of the Scimitar Pirates' officers—a lanky man with a thin mustache—looked at "Great Scimitar" William with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"Mmh..." William had a dazed expression, as if he were slowly waking from a trance. "We survived."
"Haha!" The pirates below deck couldn't contain themselves anymore, bursting into raucous celebration.
"Hell yeah!" If the Kuja warriors hadn't already confiscated their flintlocks and sabers, they would have been firing celebratory rounds into the sky. They looked around, seeing nothing but sweaty, smelly men, and decided to forgo the celebratory hugs.
They cheered for a solid three minutes. But once the initial adrenaline cooled, they exchanged glances, and a sense of dejection settled over them.
"Those women... they're terrifyingly strong."
"Why the hell are they that powerful? Our guns didn't even seem to touch them..."
Although the previous skirmish had been over in a flash—with thirty of their men cut down in a single volley—they had fired back. However, current flintlock technology was weak, often less effective than a well-made bow and far less accurate. Once the smoke cleared, the bullets had gone who-knows-where. Against the elite Kuja, they had achieved absolutely nothing.
In battle, stray bullets are the great equalizer; even a Haki user can be killed by a lucky shot if they aren't careful. Of course, the further one goes into the Grand Line, the more absurd things become—most top-tier fighters possess bodies that treat such impacts as mere scratches.
But... why?
William and his officers fell into deep thought. They couldn't wrap their heads around why the Kuja had spared them. One thing was crystal clear, though: their survival was entirely thanks to that man. Leo held a position of immense importance within the Kuja Pirates, and he was interested in them. Because of that, they still had their heads—and a chance to escape the Calm Belt.
They didn't realize that if they had found a way to eat that Flame-Flame Fruit, they might have escaped the Calm Belt on their own. But how many of them would have been left alive to see the open sea? That was a massive question mark.
This man had saved them, but he had a hidden agenda. That fact made the Scimitar Pirates deeply uneasy.
The man causing this unease was currently staring at the orange, swirling fruit in his hands, his brow furrowed in a knot of hesitation.
"If it's bothering you that much, why not just eat it?"
Hancock finally spoke up, unable to watch his internal struggle any longer. She leaned back on her throne with effortless, breathtaking grace, watching him with her head tilted to the side.
In her eyes, Leo's physical constitution was far too weak. Without the boost of a Devil Fruit, surviving the dangers of the Grand Line would be nearly impossible for him. However, she didn't know the true source of his hesitation.
In Leo's view, people in this world weren't powerful because they ate Devil Fruits; rather, powerful people remained powerful regardless of what fruit they ate—or even if they ate one at all.
Take the agents of CP9, for example. They trained their bodies to the absolute limit, reaching the doorstep of Haki. Even with "basic" Zoan fruits, they were devastatingly strong. Conversely, legends like "Dark King" Rayleigh could fight a Logia-user like Admiral Kizaru to a standstill using nothing but raw physical power and a blade.
Then there were those who wasted incredible gifts—like Miss Valentine of Baroque Works. She could control her weight from one kilogram to ten thousand, yet instead of delivering a ten-ton punch, she spent her time trying to jump on people.
It was the classic trap: a weakling remains a weakling, even with a god-tier fruit.
Do I truly have the heart of a powerhouse? Leo wondered. Am I ready?
He didn't know. So he hesitated. He put the fruit back into the chest, locked it, and doubled his training intensity.
If I can't train until I'm strong, I'll train until I break!
He was pushing himself to the brink. While he was tempted by the Flame-Flame Fruit, he felt he didn't "deserve" it yet. He thought of Luffy's legendary training sessions on Amazon Lily. Even if he couldn't match that monstrous volume, his current level was far too low. He had to squeeze every drop of potential out of his body.
His schedule was rigid: training from seven in the morning until three in the afternoon. At 3:00 PM sharp, he would board a lifeboat with supplies and head toward the Scimitar ship.
The Scimitar Pirates hadn't had a drop of water or a bite of food all day. Fortunately, they didn't have to fight or navigate. Even the captain and the navigator had "taken a day off." They slept past noon and spent their time stretching on deck before retreating below to escape the scorching sun.
When Leo finished his tasks, he signaled the pirates to row their lifeboats over, load the grain from the Kuja flagship, and row it back. It was a complex, redundant process that the average Kuja warrior found baffling.
Rindo, however, was starting to catch on.
She accompanied Leo on the lifeboat today, a cigarette dangling from her lips as she watched the pirates haul the grain. "I think I'm starting to get why you made them move the grain here, just to make them move it back," she said, exhaling a plume of smoke.
"Oh?" Leo turned to her, intrigued. "What did you see?"
"By seizing their food and delaying their meal by several hours, you sap their strength to fight back," Rindo explained. "More importantly, they have to look at us every time they want to eat. You're holding the leash. If the grain stayed on their ship, they'd still feel like they were in control of their own lives. Now? They know exactly who the master is."
"Anything else?" Leo asked. He knew this world lacked formal education in leadership. If he could teach Rindo the principles of Management Theory, it would save him immense effort in the future.
He decided to test her further.