"How much is that worth in Beli?"
There was no answer—because the one in charge of counting, Nami, had fainted the moment she saw it, overwhelmed by sheer happiness.
When she woke up, the first words out of her mouth were:
"Ren, we'll never have to worry about money again in this lifetime!"
If not for the dreams and goals shared among their crewmates, they probably would've gone home to live as carefree millionaires.
Because they were that rich—so rich that, if they handled it properly, they could easily rank among the wealthiest people in the East Blue. And that was just counting a single beam of gold—not the supporting pillars beneath it.
In short, their gold reserves were maxed out.
However, unlike those stories where riches divide comrades and corrupt hearts, things were different among Ren's crew.
No one had any plans to take the money and retire.
Nojiko had set out with her sister both to see the world and to grow stronger. By staying with Ren, she'd already found what she'd been searching for—perhaps even her true destination. Leaving was out of the question.
Nami felt the same, though her dream was different: to draw a map of the entire world. Zoro, naturally, needed no explanation—his goal of becoming the world's greatest swordsman was unshakable. Urouge shared a similar spirit of challenge. Robin sought not riches but the Poneglyphs and the history they recorded.
As for Vivi—the simplest case—since her contributions weren't on the same scale as the others, her share of the spoils was smaller. She was still paying off her "debt" through steady work.
And so, despite the staggering fortune they had just gained, the wealth didn't change much for Ren's group. At most, it became an excuse for an internal celebration—and a meeting to plan each member's next step in improvement.
Then came the practical question:
How do they cash it in?
For Ren's crew, gold had already reached such absurd quantities that "wealth" itself was no longer the issue. The real concern was how to convert that wealth into power.
First of all, Ren could confirm one thing: the Dimensional Roulette didn't accept gold.
It demanded the concept of money.
In his tests, even the currency of Skypiea—Extol—had little value to the Roulette. Its exchange rate was far lower than Beli.
That led Ren to a crucial realization: when the Dimensional Roulette "ate" money, it wasn't consuming paper—it was consuming the concept carried by that paper. The collective belief and recognition of countless people that gave "money" its meaning.
In other words—self-defined currencies were practically impossible for it to accept. Even if he built a factory to print Beli, without being part of the global circulation system, the Roulette would deem them invalid.
"So that means there aren't many ways to actually cash this in," Ren murmured thoughtfully.
In the world of One Piece, gold was indeed precious—an embodiment of wealth, a universally accepted hard currency. But hard currency couldn't be eaten. You could buy ninety percent of an island's resources with it—but not a hundred. Because gold, no matter how shiny, couldn't fill a stomach.
Trying to flood the market with massive amounts of gold would only crash its price.
This was largely due to how fragmented the world was—the four seas barely connected, and the Grand Line even more isolated. Little Garden was a perfect example: an ancient, forgotten island cut off from global trade.
The so-called King of Shipping—one of the rulers of the underworld—rose to power precisely by filling that logistical void. It showed just how slow the flow of resources truly was in this world.
The result? Most islands had limited capital—hundreds of millions in Beli would already make them wealthy. Only large nations with abundant resources could sustain major transactions.
But once a certain threshold of gold entered circulation, the same problem resurfaced—"Gold can't be eaten. "Regional devaluation would set in, crashing its worth once again.
The only proper way to handle it was to sell the gold slowly, bit by bit, across many regions. But that would take far too long.
The ideal solution was to find one buyer—someone who could steadily absorb massive quantities of gold and exchange them for Beli.
Because Beli represented Roulette tokens. And tokens represented power.
Once his strength surpassed a certain limit, Ren wouldn't need to chase money anymore—for he would then wield the power to define the world itself.
"In that case," Ren muttered, "there's only one man who fits."
He reached into his memory and found the name:
Gild Tesoro—the Golden Emperor, wielder of the Gold-Gold Fruit.
According to Ren's recollection, Tesoro controlled twenty percent of the world's Beli and dominated both the underworld and the upper class alike. Some even claimed he could manipulate the Celestial Dragons through sheer financial power—and by extension, the World Government itself.
Ren considered that exaggeration. Still, there was no denying Tesoro's real status: the underworld's King of Gold, whose influence spanned the globe.
If Ren could work with him, the gold-to-cash problem would be solved. Even if it took time to convert, it would still meet his expectations.
Of course, that meant another confrontation was inevitable.
Ren sketched out the beginnings of a plan, then sighed as he lay back on the bed. "Who knew that suddenly getting rich would come with so many worries…"
The sound of soft footsteps approached the door. It opened to reveal Nami, wrapped in a bathrobe, her damp hair clinging to her neck.
She glanced at Ren and sat down neatly on the edge of the bed, turning her head to present her wet hair. "Hurry up," she said softly.
Ren rolled his eyes and sat up. With one hand, he conjured a gentle flame to dry her hair. With the other, he pulled her onto his lap, his fingers absently tracing the curve of her smooth, pale thigh.
"Pervert," Nami muttered with a faint hum—but she didn't move away. Instead, she rested her head lazily against his chest, eyes closed, enjoying the warmth and comfort.
It was a familiar scene—an unspoken rhythm of their relationship, mutual and natural. They had long since fallen into this pattern.
This was how Ren and Nami usually got along—a type of mutual pursuit.
Normally, they would maintain a certain limit.
However, a limit was not unbreakable; it was continuously lowered over time.
She seemed to be growing fond of this feeling—of completely entrusting herself to one person.
She savored the sensory stimulation that came with moral degradation, freely tasting the forbidden fruit.
Even if she accidentally crossed the line, it wouldn't matter.
After all, the person she had chosen was the best she could ever hope to meet.
If that was the case, what difference was there between gradual slippage and a sudden drop?
Most importantly, as Nami's thoughts grew increasingly hazy, three faces flashed through her mind.
First, her confirmed sister, Nojiko.
Second, the potential contestant, Vivi—Roan seemed to have a subtle shift in perspective regarding her status as a princess.
And finally, Robin, whom he hadn't planned on recruiting but still listed as an Apprentice Crewmate.
Nojiko aside, she felt that if she didn't seize the opportunity soon, her position as the Main Wife might be snatched away.
She was the first; she couldn't allow that chance to slip by.
Being first or last was incredibly important, especially with a strange man like Ren.
Other rivals wouldn't be like Zoro, who would give up the position of Vice-Captain simply because he didn't want to fight a woman.
Right now, there seemed to be a very appropriate opportunity... or rather, an excuse.
One that would prevent her from appearing too easy.
The Rumble-Rumble Fruit.
It had already been confirmed for her; it was discussed and finalized at that meeting.
It was practically undisputed.
Zoro had no need for a Devil Fruit, and her sister was more interested in flames, though she might also be intentionally yielding it to Nami.
Vivi was already a Devil Fruit user, and the others didn't even qualify.
They didn't have the right to enter the race.
Furthermore, according to Ren, the Rumble-Rumble Fruit was the perfect match for Nami, and Nami was the perfect match for the Rumble-Rumble Fruit.
The relationship between the two was one of complementarity that would result in exponential growth.
In this situation, Nami undoubtedly became the owner of the Rumble-Rumble Fruit.
However...
She knew herself that this was only because Ren had no intention of claiming it himself.
Therefore, according to the previous mechanism of giving and receiving feedback, it seemed time to advance to the next stage.
"Ah~"
Ren sucked in a breath and looked up, a red mark on his lip.
Nami gently bit her red lip, her intoxicated, beautiful eyes fixed on her man as she slowly pulled open her bathrobe.
"Want to try crossing the edge?"
"..."
Ren was stunned.
Unexpectedly, the presence of the 'catfish' was not only making the other 'fish' uneasy but was also accelerating their progress.
However, the pain from his waist quickly brought him back to his senses.
Nami pinched a small bit of his waist skin between two fingers and twisted it, her charming expression turning serious:
"A prior declaration: Although I love children, now is not the time for them to make an appearance! Do you understand what I mean?"
"Understood!"
Roan pondered for a moment, one arm embracing her fair, slender waist.
With the other, he pulled out a small box—which he had somehow drawn from his four-dimensional space—and tore open the packaging for one.
Then, he pinched the rubber ring and pushed it into Nami's slightly parted red lips, making her hold it in her mouth.
"?"
Nami bit the rubber ring in confusion.
"I'll teach you. Come, bend over... lower your head..."
"Mgh!?"
(End of Chapter)