Let's compromise for the time being. Rob Lucci gave her a wink just now, which meant that Vane was very strong.
Kalifa, who had come to her senses, also reflected on it and realized that Vane was indeed formidable—he had blocked her with just one hand.
Soon, Kalifa and Vane landed at the headquarters of the Galley-La Company, where Iceburg was located.
Mr. Tom, who built the Roger Pirates' ship, had been Iceburg's teacher. Before his death, he passed on the blueprints for the ancient weapon Pluton to Iceburg. CP9 had infiltrated the company for this very reason—though Iceburg himself wasn't fully aware of it.
Vane had come with a simple goal: to request a custom ship design using Treasure Tree Adam as the material. If it were a normal ship, he wouldn't have bothered seeking Iceburg's help.
Kalifa led Vane to Iceburg's office, where the two finally met.
"Mr. Iceburg, someone wishes to see you," Kalifa said respectfully.
Iceburg, reviewing documents, raised his head and looked at Vane.
"You're here to see me?"
"That's right."
Vane was wearing a mask. Iceburg couldn't see his face, but there was something distinct and powerful about him—mysterious and commanding.
"I don't know what you're looking for," Iceburg said.
"I want you to design a ship for me."
"Shipbuilding? Honestly, you didn't need to come to me directly. Someone from the company could have handled that."
"The ship I need is... unique."
"Unique?"
"Yes, but could you ask your secretary to step out for now?"
Kalifa shot Vane a fierce glare. "You want me to leave?"
Iceburg noticed the sharpness in Vane's eyes—like a beast watching its prey. He was startled.
"Kalifa, please step outside. I need a private word with this gentleman. Also, shut the door."
"Yes, Mr. Iceburg." Kalifa reluctantly exited the room.
Now only Vane and Iceburg remained in the spacious office.
"Please, have a seat," Iceburg offered.
Vane sat opposite him.
"I'm curious—what kind of special ship do you need?" Iceburg asked.
"Something like the Oro Jackson."
"Oro Jackson?!"
Iceburg's face turned pale. That was the ship of the Roger Pirates—renowned across the seas as the greatest and most legendary vessel, the only one to ever reach the final island, Raftel.
"Are you serious? That's no small request."
"I'm very serious. I want Treasure Tree Adam as the core material, and I need you to design it."
"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't do that. The Oro Jackson was built by my mentor, and I... I can't replicate it."
Iceburg's tone became cautious. He suspected Vane might be a pirate. And this pirate was asking him to build a ship akin to the Oro Jackson—bold and possibly dangerous.
"You can," Vane said calmly.
"I'm sorry, but I must refuse—"
"Iceburg, I know you have the blueprints for the ancient weapon Pluton."
"What?!"
"You shouldn't say things like that... it could get someone killed." Iceburg's expression shifted, his breathing quickened.
"I also know your teacher, Tom, gave you those blueprints. To keep them out of the hands of the World Government, you handed them over to your friend Franky for safekeeping. Which means... they're with Franky now."
"That's impossible! You're talking nonsense!"
"No, Iceburg. Don't fool yourself. I'm not interested in Pluton. No matter how powerful it is, it's still an external weapon. I prefer strength that comes from within."
Besides, a ship like that would draw attention from every major power in the world. Now wasn't the time to expose himself like that.
"How do you even know where the Pluton blueprints are?"
Iceburg was beginning to wonder if Franky had slipped up and told this man everything.
"I have the ability to read minds. I know your secrets—including what you're thinking right now."
Vane laughed lightly.
"Mind reading? You expect me to believe that?"
"Why not?"
Iceburg clenched his fists in frustration. "So, what, you plan to blackmail me into building your ship using the knowledge of the Pluton blueprints?"
"You could say that."
"You bastard!"
Iceburg was furious. His right hand slipped into the desk drawer while Vane wasn't looking, fingers closing around the pistol he kept for emergencies.
Vane chuckled. As if he hadn't noticed. Of course he did.
Iceburg's reaction wasn't surprising. He was simply trying to protect Franky—and even if it cost him his life, he couldn't allow those blueprints to fall into the wrong hands. Tom had entrusted him with their safety.
"Die!"
Iceburg pulled the trigger, firing the gun at Vane without hesitation.
Bang!
The gunshot rang out.
But silence followed. Iceburg looked up—and was horrified by what he saw.
"You... monster!"
Vane had caught the bullet with two fingers.
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