Chapter 260: Tesoro's Ambition, An Inhuman Opponent
Finding a suitable replacement for Buena Festa was no easy task. When it came to organizing grand festivals, Festa's reputation was unmatched. Although he primarily catered to pirates, the fundamental logistics of organizing a massive celebration were universal.
Organizing events for pirates actually required immense caution. While massive, illegal pirate gatherings were chaotic, they were also a golden opportunity for the Marines to swoop in and wipe everyone out in one fell swoop.
Without the inherent risk of harboring wanted criminals, organizing a legal concert would actually be far more efficient.
However, since the man was dead, pondering it was meaningless. The only musician capable of holding a concert in the Underworld was Brook, and that was a highly unique exception.
Nanamo couldn't exactly order Chloe to summon the world's Sea Kings just to check if Festa had been digested yet. Even if she didn't need to hide the Sea Kings' existence, those massive beasts wouldn't remember a random human they swallowed anyway.
To fulfill his master's command, Hermes issued a widespread "Call for Talent." Although it was merely a Homie, as the Princess's most trusted retainer, its words carried significant weight within the Ryugu Kingdom.
Because the job posting was strictly for organizing a concert, there were very few geographical restrictions. Even the Sabaody Archipelago was plastered with these recruitment flyers, naturally drawing the attention of many ambitious individuals.
Sabaody Archipelago, Grove 12. This was currently Gild Tesoro's residence.
Over the past few years, Tesoro's life had undergone a massive, positive transformation. Through relentless effort, he had successfully wooed and won the heart of Stella.
Stella currently worked a stable job at Fish-Man Island's diplomatic office on the archipelago. Tesoro, on the other hand, lacked a stable career, taking on a myriad of odd jobs to scrape by. Occasionally, he could even be seen busking at the Sabao Dome to earn some extra change.
Between the two of them, their income was enough to sustain a normal life. As long as they didn't encounter any catastrophic natural disasters or pirate raids, keeping themselves fed and warm wasn't an issue. But Tesoro was fundamentally dissatisfied.
The only reason Tesoro had reformed his life and kicked all his terrible habits was because of Stella. But he couldn't deny that gambling and underground schemes generated money infinitely faster than honest labor.
Although the risks were equally astronomical, anyone who had ever tasted fast money often suffered from selective amnesia regarding those risks.
However, Tesoro had no intention of returning to his old, criminal ways. He desperately wanted to find a legitimate, rapid path to upward mobility to drastically improve their current living conditions.
"Stella, I think... this is the opportunity we've been waiting for..."
The "Call for Talent" flyer Hermes had issued was currently resting on the table in Tesoro's room. He had seen countless similar flyers recently; in fact, one of his recent odd jobs was passing them out.
"Organizing a concert for Princess Nanamo. Experience preferred..." Stella read the flyer, her eyes filled with doubt. "Have you ever done something like this before?"
Tesoro was an open book to Stella; he had basically confessed every single detail of his life to her. To her knowledge, Tesoro had zero experience in event planning.
"No, but I've dreamed of standing on a grand stage since I was a kid," Tesoro admitted. "Sometimes I watched them from the mountains, and sometimes I snuck backstage. I'm decently familiar with the flow, the scale, and how these things operate."
"So you haven't actually done it?"
"No. But nobody else knows that! When applying for a job like this... it's all about how you sell yourself. As long as I can produce results, everything else doesn't matter."
Having rubbed shoulders with all sorts of shady characters in the underworld, Tesoro knew how the system worked. This sea didn't have comprehensive corporate background checks.
CP9 agents had flawlessly infiltrated Water 7's premier shipbuilding company.
Stussy, a clone of Miss Buckingham Stussy, successfully infiltrated the Cipher Pol agencies as Vegapunk's spy.
Recruitment interviews were often just a few superficial questions; verifying someone's past was incredibly difficult.
If you had genuine talent, you could always rise through the ranks. Of course, there were plenty of frauds who faked it until they made it, but getting caught usually came with a hefty price.
"Our life right now isn't bad," Stella said softly, placing a hand on his arm. "If you do this..."
"My dream," Tesoro interrupted gently.
"What?"
"I said my dream. Are you truly willing to live out the rest of your life in quiet mediocrity? I admit, surviving peacefully on this dangerous sea is a blessing in itself.
"But I still want to chase my dream. Standing on a world-class stage has always been my dream. Don't you want to be a professional dancer, too?"
The twisted ideology that "money is the only absolute truth" hadn't yet poisoned Tesoro's mind. His conscience and moral bottom line remained intact, and his heart still burned with the fiery ambition of chasing his dreams.
"I don't want to remain a nobody forever. The opportunity is right here in front of me... I can't just let it slip away."
Although it sounded like a simple concert, the context mattered entirely based on who it was for. Anyone living under Fish-Man Island's jurisdiction knew exactly how much weight the title "Princess Nanamo" carried.
Under a feudal monarchy, the Royal Family was undoubtedly the most influential force in the country—especially when that Royal Family comprised the absolute pinnacle of the nation's combat power.
Regardless of where they were born, any Merfolk or Fish-Man who returned to Fish-Man Island was naturally recognized as a citizen. But places like Delta Island, parts of the Sabaody Archipelago, and sectors of the North Blue were home to countless non-Fish-Man races who were also official citizens of the Ryugu Kingdom.
The fastest route to upward mobility was still joining the military—not the Neptune Army, but the kingdom's specialized elite legions. Technical expertise was another viable route. But right now, Tesoro lacked both combat strength and specialized technical skills.
Without falling into darkness and adopting a hyper-extreme worldview, the trajectory of his life had fundamentally shifted.
Having made his decision, Tesoro began aggressively drawing upon his memories of every concert he had ever sneaked into. He integrated his own wildly ambitious visions of the "perfect stage" into a comprehensive, highly detailed proposal.
Only he knew whether he actually had experience, but if he couldn't even present a solid draft, passing the initial screening would be impossible.
In a sense, Tesoro's timing was exceptionally lucky. Per Nanamo's instructions, Hermes wasn't just looking for a one-off event planner. The ideal candidate would be someone deeply connected to the Ryugu Kingdom, capable of becoming a long-term, reliable event coordinator for future endeavors.
Under these criteria, Tesoro advanced through the selection process quite smoothly. After passing several rigorous evaluations, he easily made it to the finals.
However, the final opponent he had to face left him feeling deeply unsettled.
His opponent wasn't a human. He wasn't a Fish-Man or a Merman, either.
His opponent was... a starfish.
Currently, an orange-red starfish was displaying a highly expressive, human-like face, staring at Tesoro with profound suspicion.
"Hey, rival. Why do you keep staring at me? I'm not going to hold back, you know!"
"Why... why is a starfish speaking human language?!" Tesoro stammered, staring in disbelief.
"Oh, that? Well, when I was born, I genuinely thought I was a human. By the time I finally realized I was actually a starfish, I had already learned how to speak."
The starfish, Pappag, spread his little arms, acting as if this completely absurd biological anomaly was the most natural thing in the world.
"Humans really need to broaden their horizons," Pappag sighed dramatically. "The judges for this final round are a literal floating cloud and a living skeleton. Given the circumstances, is it really that weird that your opponent is a starfish?"
Pappag's flawless logic left Tesoro utterly speechless. Everything the starfish said was objectively true.
Tesoro had originally hoped to meet Princess Nanamo during the finals, aiming to make a good impression that would benefit his future career.
But the final judges were Brook and Hermes, rendering all standard corporate kissing-up tactics completely useless.
However, the final result was actually quite favorable for Tesoro. Both he and Pappag passed the final evaluation, and they were appointed as co-organizers for the concert.
What Tesoro didn't know was that he had nearly lost the entire contract to a literal starfish, purely due to budget constraints.
At this point in time, Pappag wasn't yet a world-renowned fashion designer. He was still in a phase of possessing zero material desires. His requested compensation for organizing the entire concert was simply an endless supply of fresh clams and Sea Beast meat.
Compared to Tesoro's requested salary, Pappag's cost-to-performance ratio was so absurdly high it defied description.
If Nanamo herself had been the judge instead of Hermes and Brook, Pappag would have undoubtedly won the contract solo.
Dates, venues, costume designs, stage layouts—there were countless logistical details to finalize. While Pappag lacked a deep understanding of human society, he possessed a brilliant, wholly unique perspective on fashion design and stage aesthetics. Surprisingly, he and Tesoro formed a highly synergistic partnership.
At this point, Tesoro was no longer worried about the organizational logistics. The venue was secured, the funding was limitless, and pulling off the physical concert would be a breeze.
Given the massive daily tourist traffic through the Sabaody Archipelago, filling the seats wouldn't be an issue, especially since profitability wasn't the goal.
However, there was one terrifying variable Tesoro couldn't account for: he had never actually heard Nanamo sing.
"Pappag, have you ever heard the Princess sing before?"
"Nope," Pappag replied, sketching out a dress design. "We're just the event organizers. Does it really matter if we've heard her?"
"Hypothetically... I'm just saying hypothetically... what if Her Highness is actually tone-deaf and the concert is a total disaster? Are we going to be held responsible for the poor reception?!"
"My dear human friend," Pappag sighed, putting down his pencil. "If her singing is genuinely terrible, you have absolutely nothing to worry about, because the root of the problem will be glaringly obvious to everyone. What you should be terrified of is the concert failing despite her singing perfectly fine!"
Pappag turned around, standing on the desk to look Tesoro in the eye. The starfish felt that ever since accepting this job, Tesoro had become overly cautious and suffocated by the immense pressure of the Royal Family.
"Yohohoho! There is no need for either of you to worry about that. Princess Nanamo's singing voice is absolutely flawless!"
Brook, who had stopped by to coordinate the musical arrangements and stage lighting, overheard their conversation and offered them a much-needed dose of reassurance. "Even if the concert's reception falls flat, the blame won't fall on your shoulders. Just give it your all and work without restraint!"
Nanamo herself wasn't overly concerned with the meticulous details. To her, this wasn't a life-long dream; it was merely a fun hobby. She was perfectly content to review the final arrangements once everything was fully prepared.
Right now, Nanamo was entirely focused on her own grueling personal training.
To avoid being dragged into the impending fanatical try-hard vortex—which would inevitably result in her activating the Flames of Rebirth to constantly heal herself while getting beaten half to death—Nanamo had proactively decided to push herself to the limit for a while.
However, the end result was essentially the same. The only difference was that instead of activating the Flames of Rebirth during the battle, she was now using them to heal her broken bones after the battle.
"Seriously, Dad... I know I'm the one who asked for this, but did you really have to hit me that hard?! Are you actually trying to kill me?!"
"What nonsense are you spouting?" Nereus replied calmly, not breaking a sweat. "You know better than anyone that at your current level, ordinary sparring is completely meaningless. Only a deathmatch of this intensity can stimulate genuine growth.
"And the only person in the world capable of pushing you to the absolute brink of death without actually killing you... is me."
"That's easy for you to say... it still hurts like hell..."
Rubbing her bruised head, Nanamo gestured for Amphelite to increase the heat of her flames. As a unique ability of the Lunarian race, the Flames of Rebirth not only rapidly healed injuries but also possessed a potent analgesic effect, making it the ultimate miracle drug for grueling training sessions.
Leaning back against the sofa, Nanamo inadvertently thought of Kaido, mostly because there was a certain someone eagerly peeking into the training grounds from the sidelines.
Nanamo genuinely didn't understand Yamato's perspective. No matter who was doing the training, the fundamental essence was exactly the same: getting beaten to a pulp. What was there to be envious of?!
Whether it was Kaido or Nereus doing the beating, wasn't it still just getting beaten?!
"Dad, how exactly did that guy Kaido manage to screw up his relationship with his daughter so badly?" Nanamo asked.
"That's the inevitable result of failing to communicate properly," Nereus said, crossing his arms. "When a child is young, you have to guide them patiently step by step. Relying exclusively on the 'stick' will never yield good results.
"But that brat Kaido has never been good at that sort of thing. He places his absolute faith purely in overwhelming violence."
"Fair point."
Thinking back on her own childhood, while she had endured plenty of brutally strict training, it was balanced with countless warm, beautiful memories.
But if Yamato looked back on her past, there probably wasn't a single fond memory to be found—only endless beatings, scoldings, and degradation.
When Kaido had first given Yamato her kanabo, she had genuinely loved it. She even gave it a name and cried when it eventually broke.
But when Kaido saw her crying, he merely viewed it as pathetic weakness. Instead of comforting her, he brutally beat her for showing emotion. Incidents like that happened constantly, gradually calcifying into an irreversible, deep-seated resentment.
"Since you promised Kaido, you have to train her properly," Nanamo said. "Aside from the most rudimentary club-swinging techniques, Kaido didn't really teach her anything. She's still in the foundational phase of tempering her physique. You know how to train her, right?"
"Relax, Dad, I'm an expert at this," Nanamo grinned confidently. "But you're the one she idolizes. Is it really appropriate for me to take over?"
"It's just foundational training. Why wouldn't it be appropriate?" Nereus raised an eyebrow. "Or perhaps you've suddenly realized how truly weak you are, reflected deeply on your shortcomings, and decided to request that I subject you to non-stop, hellish training instead?"
The word "weak" had absolutely no association with Nanamo. Looking across the entire world, she was undeniably a top-tier powerhouse. Yet, Nereus was the only person in existence who possessed the absolute qualifications to call her that.
Though if anyone else heard him say it, they would probably seriously question their own grasp on reality.
Hearing Nereus's threat, Nanamo wisely kept her mouth shut. The Flames of Rebirth had already healed most of her injuries. Springing up from the sofa with a crisp kip-up, she grabbed Yamato by the arm and dragged her toward a different training ground.
"Stop staring! Once you get a bit stronger, my dad will personally instruct you! But right now, it's time to build your foundation!"
The foundational training regimen wasn't overly complicated, and Nanamo had zero intention of personally overseeing it every day. Since Nereus had outsourced the job to her, she fully intended to outsource it to Alber.
After all, Yamato didn't need to learn specialized martial arts like Fish-Man Karate. While technically any race could learn it, mastering the intricate manipulation of water vapor was exceptionally difficult for non-Fish-Men.
Lured by the entirely reasonable promise that Nereus would personally train her once she grew stronger, Yamato was overflowing with boundless energy and motivation.
And, exactly as Nanamo had feared, Yamato's fanatical enthusiasm inadvertently dragged the overall training intensity of the entire younger generation up to terrifying new heights...
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