Chapter 10
A few hours later, the sun’s gone down, and the sky’s pitch black. Honestly, there’s not much to see on the ocean at night—no lights, no views. The folks who were partying or sightseeing on the deck have started trickling back to their cabins.
Nami’s got my arm slung over her shoulder, dragging me—supposedly drunk as a skunk—toward the cabins.
“Hey… you still with me, Mr. Roy?” she asks, straining a bit but sounding chipper. “Where’s your room? I’ll get you there.” To her, I’m just another gullible mark, like the idiots she’s fleeced before. Her plan’s going smoothly. Get me to my room, and she’s free to do… whatever she wants.
“3… 303…” I mumble, slurring my words, flailing a hand vaguely ahead. As my arm swings, a fancy gold pocket watch, studded with two gemstones, slips from my pocket.
Nami’s eyes light up. She snatches it, tucking it away fast. “That’s not even close to 303,” she says. “Come on, behave. Nami’s got you.”
Following the signs, she hauls me to Room 303. She rummages through my pocket, finds the lone key, and unlocks the door, guiding me inside.
Once we’re in, she dumps me onto the plush, oversized bed with a relieved sigh. Ever cautious, she shuts the door tight and locks it.
Nami steps to the bedside, eyeing “passed-out” me with a sly, mischievous grin. “Sorry, Mr. Roy.”
“Let’s get to work,” she mutters. She ties up her long dress with its sash for easier movement and starts rifling through my room like a pro.
Gold, silver, pricey trinkets—everything goes into a small sack. When she’s done, she scans the room again, eyeing her bulging haul. Still, something’s missing.
Then it hits her. She remembers me throwing around Berries like pocket change in the casino. Her eyes spark. “Right! Berries! He’s gotta have a stash!”
No one blows their entire fortune on day one of a cruise. I’ve got to have more tucked away.
The wardrobe’s stuffed with neatly stacked piles of Berries, practically blinding her. “It’s… really here! This much… gotta be ten million Berries at least!” In the East Blue, where five million Berries is considered a treasure worth fighting over, ten million is a fortune.
Grinning ear to ear, Nami glances at “sleeping” me and scoffs. “Hiding it in such an obvious spot? Talk about rich and stupid, Mr. Roy.”
She reaches for the cash.
Then, a cold, hard sensation presses against the back of her head. My voice cuts through the silence behind her. “What’s this, Miss Nami? Helping me tidy up?”