At that moment, even with Yahn's normally mild temperament, a nameless fire of rage surged straight to his head.
This was his hard-earned private stash—savings built coin by coin through sweat and blood! His retirement fund! His kids' future milk money!
He had already wrung out nearly every corrupt base commander across the North Blue just to build up this little nest egg. Meaning from now on, it would be far harder to grow his private treasury the same way.
There's an old saying: To steal a man's wealth is a hatred equal to killing his father.
Yahn ground his teeth, his voice trembling with fury.
"Damn pirates—every last one of them deserves to be cut into a thousand pieces!"
Robin, however, stayed calm as she flipped through the intelligence report.
"Brother Yahn, this might have been a trap from the very start. Those five Devil Fruits we tried to buy from the black market? It's likely some of them were put up for sale by the Donquixote Pirates themselves.
Our comrades bought them separately, then secretly transferred them onto the merchant ship. Yet less than half a day later, the Donquixote Pirates struck with perfect accuracy, heading straight for the ship and seizing the exact five fruits. It was too precise to be a coincidence."
Yahn sucked in a deep breath.
"…Casualties? How bad was it?"
Robin's eyes dimmed.
"Of the fourteen comrades, only one survived by jumping overboard. The other thirteen… all perished."
BANG!
Yahn's fist slammed into the desk, the wood trembling under the blow.
"Damn them! Damn that Donquixote family!"
He knew, however, that this was partly his own negligence.
For six years, he had quietly monitored the Donquixote Pirates. Their captain, Donquixote Doflamingo, held dangerous secrets tied to the World Government. Because of that, neither Navy nor Cipher Pol could openly move against him.
Yahn also understood Doflamingo's game. Staying in the North Blue, building power in the shadows, biding his time—it was not so different from Yahn's own strategy. And with strength far surpassing an ordinary Vice Admiral, Doflamingo was practically untouchable, the de facto overlord of the sea.
But here was the problem: Yahn had purchased those fruits through the Revolutionary Army, hidden from Navy channels. That meant he had no way to use his naval identity to demand them back.
Slowly, Yahn forced his anger down. Rationally, he knew the Donquixote Pirates weren't just any crew. Their captain was a former Celestial Dragon. His ties to the World Government were too dangerous to provoke lightly.
Even if the Revolutionaries somehow beat his crew in open combat, what if Doflamingo reported suspicious movements to the Government? That could cripple the Revolutionaries before they ever stood a chance.
For the Revolution's future—for Yahn's own cover—this fight wasn't worth it.
Hold it in?
Yahn tried to reason with himself.
They're just five Devil Fruits. Only a small part of my savings…
But later that night, lying awake, the anger returned with a vengeance.
No. Impossible.
The more he told himself to swallow it, the more his fury grew. One billion Berry? He could live without that. What he couldn't live with was the loss of thirteen comrades.
Even if he had to move carefully, even if he had to keep it subtle—he had to do something.
"Just a little retaliation… I won't let it slide," Yahn muttered, his eyes hardening as resolve settled in.
He summoned a lieutenant within the 521st Marine Base who also doubled as a Revolutionary. He gave a few short instructions, making sure his absence would remain covered up.
Then, slipping into Little Gold's body, Yahn quietly left the base. He flew to a Revolutionary reserve ship anchored nearby, and from there set course straight for one of the Donquixote stronghold—the port city of Spider Miles.
Even aboard the Revolutionary vessel, Yahn stayed hidden inside Little Gold, maintaining utmost secrecy. No one even knew he was on board. To them, the mission was simply routine sailing along the set route.
By the time the ship was about twenty nautical miles off Spider Miles, Little Gold slipped away, wings beating softly in the night.
Yahn stepped out onto the sea on a small rowboat conjured from the bird's beak, holding a Den Den Mushi in his hand.
He raised his eyes toward the distant port city, then waved.
"Go."
Little Gold spread his wings and streaked toward Spider Miles, while Yahn dialed a number he hadn't used in a long, long time.
"Buru buru… buru buru…"
The line connected. Silence. No greeting, no sound.
Yahn's lips curled into a rare nostalgic smile.
"Guess who?"
On the other end, in a scrapyard near Spider Miles, Donquixote Rosinante—known publicly as the "Heart" executive of the Donquixote Family—froze. His pupils contracted sharply.
Of all things, he had never expected Yahn to contact him directly.
Thankfully, Rosinante's cautious nature saved him. Whenever receiving suspicious calls, he instinctively cloaked himself in the silence of his Calm-Calm Fruit, ensuring no one could overhear him slip as a Navy spy.
He scanned his surroundings, confirming he was alone, then moved to a more hidden spot.
Yahn, unhurried, waited. He knew Rosinante would recognize his voice instantly.
At last, the Den Den Mushi's lips opened, and Rosinante's voice, low and tense, emerged:
"…Yahn?"
---
Read 120 chapters ahead on P@treon and Ko-Fi:
patreon.com/Sami_27
https:// ko-fi.com/sami27