Chapter 11
Nami freezes as she feels the cold metal against the back of her head, a bead of sweat trickling down her temple. She swallows hard, her body rigid, and stammers, “You… you’re not drunk?”
“Tch, tch, tch…” I shake my head, feigning disappointment with a wicked grin. “I only pretended to be drunk to give you a chance, you know. But to think… you’re just after my money? I’m so disappointed, Miss Nami.”
She knows I’m full of it, but she’s got no choice but to play along. Forcing a sheepish smile, she says, “Uh… well, I just saw you drunk and thought I’d tidy up your room, maybe take a shower…”
She turns slowly, trying to sell her “sincere” puppy-dog eyes.
“Really?” I glance around the room, now a mess from her rummaging. “Funny, it looks messier than before.” My smile stays warm, but the gun never wavers from her head.
Realizing her act’s not working, Nami sighs and raises her hands in surrender. “Fine, I give up. How’d you know it was me?” She doesn’t buy my “giving you a chance” line. She’s figured out I’ve been on guard since we met.
I shrug, keeping my tone casual. “Not much to it. I’d heard there’s a thief named Nami who targets pirates’ loot in the East Blue. And here you are, on Badsey’s ship—a guy who’s practically a pirate himself. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.” (Okay, her orange hair and that sneaky vibe helped too.)
Nami blinks, surprised. She didn’t expect her small-time rep to reach anyone’s ears. Has she been pulling too many heists lately?
“But you’re no pushover yourself, are you?” she says, eyeing me.
“Pretty sharp for a random noble.”
“Me? Nah, just a minor noble from the Goa Kingdom,” I say, shaking my head. “Here for a little sightseeing, that’s all.” My flippant tone and half-smirk scream I’m lying, and she knows it.
Nami’s not interested in digging into my story, though. She’s too busy figuring out how to get out of this—starting with getting away from the gun pointed at her head. Her eyes flick to the pistol in my hand, and she spots the name etched on the grip. “John… Morgan?” Her face stiffens, then twists in horror. “No way… you’re that John Morgan, aren’t you? The East Blue’s top bounty hunter?”
I glance at the grip, wincing. “Guess I need a new gun,” I mutter, tucking the pistol back into my belt.
Nami’s face falls, pure despair. She knows she’s screwed. Even with the gun holstered, she doesn’t try to run. The gap in our skills is too wide, and brains? I’m a step ahead there too. Her usual tricks won’t work. Resigned, she asks, “Alright, what do I have to do to get out of this?”
I keep smiling. “Tch, who says I’m letting you go? Bit cocky, aren’t you, Miss Nami?”
“Come on,” she says, her eyes more genuine now. “A small-time thief like me? I’m not worth your time, big shot.”
“Fair point,” I concede, shrugging. “I don’t have time to mess around with you. So… let’s start with you giving back what you took.”
She nudges the sack at her feet. “Everything I grabbed is right here.”
“And?”
“And what?” she snaps, glaring. “I haven’t left this room. Where else could I hide anything?”
“The pocket watch you swiped earlier,” I say, holding out my hand. “What, you want me to dig it out myself?”
“Ugh… fine, I forgot.” Nami grits her teeth, pulling the gold watch from her dress and slapping it into my palm.
I lift the watch by its chain, giving it a quick sniff.
Nami’s face flushes red. “Hey! What are you sniffing?!” That watch was tucked close to her, after all.
“Nothing,” I say lightly, slipping it back into my pocket. “Just a bit of a neat freak.”
She glares, cheeks still pink. “Alright, you got your stuff. Can I go now?” She turns to slip past me.
“Whoa, slow down, little thief,” I say, planting an arm against the wardrobe to block her path. “I said give my stuff back first. We haven’t talked terms yet.”
“What… what else do you want?” Nami tenses, her voice nervous.
“Relax, relax,” I say, chuckling at her reaction. “I’m not gonna hurt you. How about… we work together?”