19. Alcohol Empire

MC's Illustration: Here!

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Aero had just returned from visiting the place where this body, his current one, had grown up.

Technically speaking, it wasn't his past, but the body's. Still, the visit had stirred something in him.

He had assumed he'd never see that grizzled old drunk again… yet he was, back on the island.

This time, it wasn't out of necessity it was closure.

He owed the man.

Without the old drunk who picked him up off the streets, who taught him how to move and how to survive… he wouldn't have made it past his first night on Scar's ship. He would've been sliced up the moment the Marines boarded.

No training. No chance.

If that man hadn't taken him in, he'd have died like the rest of the forgotten. Starved. Sick Or stabbed in some alley.

Call it gratitude. Nothing more.

Emotion? Not really. At least not from Aero.

But maybe the emotions inside this body still felt something.

Sometimes, a single act of kindness in a cruel world earns a debt you can never repay.

But that chapter was over.

---

Now that most of their earnings from the casino were being funneled into ship construction, Bugsy and his crew would be operating on thin margins again.

Aero smirked to himself.

It's time to fix that.

He had a plan: bootleg liquor. High-proof, high-demand.

Unlike his old world, this one had no regulations, no alcohol tax, and no anti-smuggling task force.

If he could brew a high-concentration liquor and get it flowing across East Blue, every pirate crew would become a customer.

Big money.

Mass production. Island-wide distribution. Instant profit.

Only one problem: they weren't strong enough to protect the operation.

So… what if they operated under a royal banner?

If pirates couldn't rob them without angering the king, that solved part of the problem.

A bolder thought struck him.

What if they didn't just operate under the king?

What if they became the king?

He thought of Crocodile. Of Doflamingo. Two Warlords who once used kings and kingdoms like puppets.

Control the king. Control the kingdom.

And that meant ten thousand armed soldiers suddenly worked for you.

Protected your shipments.

Brewed your liquor.

Forget casino money this was the real business.

"…Let's pay the palace a visit."

.

.

.

.

.

"Weiss!" Aero barked.

"Yes, Captain?"

"We're going to the palace."

"…The palace?" Weiss blinked. "But the king… doesn't see people like us?"

One look from Aero shut him up fast. "Right. I'll lead the way."

---

The palace of the Gregoria Kingdom wasn't located on Rubber Island itself. Instead, it rested on a smaller neighboring isle just over a hundred meters away, entirely devoted to royal facilities.

It was home to the royal guard ten thousand strong.

But those troops never left the palace.

That's why pirates like Scar could operate openly in the city. The king didn't care, and so long as pirates didn't go too far, the people made peace with the system.

Large pirate crews paid off townsfolk to avoid causing chaos. Small crews? They got driven out by angry villagers wielding pitchforks.

The people had long since stopped expecting the king to protect them.

But tonight, Aero had other ideas.

He was thinking bigger.

If he could do what Crocodile and Doflamingo had done, manipulate the monarch, then this kingdom could become his base of operations.

His "Alcohol Empire."

And soon, Rubber Island would be known as the Liquor Kingdom.

---

Thirty minutes later, Aero hovered above the palace.

With the help of the wind and the cover of night, he slipped inside.

Weiss followed closely, surprisingly adept. He'd once served in the palace guard before being dishonorably dismissed. Lucky for Aero.

"That room," Weiss whispered, pointing from the rooftop. "That's the king's chamber. The gold-plated guards down there? Personal bodyguards. Strong."

"But not strong enough anymore," Weiss added with a confident smirk.

Aero nodded. "Quietly. We do this clean."

Weiss and Lassi jumped down.

By the time the guards even blinked, they were out cold.

Aero dropped down after them.

"Drag them out of sight."

Then, without waiting, he opened the heavy golden door.

What he saw… was absurd.

Gold. So much gold.

Walls of it. Columns embedded with emeralds. Gemstones pressed between bricks. Even the floor sparkled.

It made Fort Knox look like a thrift store.

Then he saw the bed.

And immediately regretted it.

A young woman was lying there, naked and startled, barely able to cover herself with the tattered sheets.

The king, a bloated, balding man wrapped in silk, was scrambling upright, shouting for guards.

"Who dares enter—?! GUARDS! GUARDS!"

Lassi and Weiss stepped in, closing the door behind them with a heavy thud.

Silence.

The king looked around, realization dawning far too late.

No help was coming.

He wrapped himself in a gold-trimmed blanket, glaring furiously.

"Y-You dare—?! Who are you?! Why are you here?!"

Aero walked in calmly.

"I heard you don't have an heir."

"What business is that of yours?! Who are you to break into my palace?!"

Aero's eyes narrowed.

"When pirates ravaged your streets, where were you, King?"

No answer.

"You've grown old. Weak. It's time to step aside."

"You—! I am the king of a World Government nation! You can't—!"

The king lunged for a flintlock pistol on the nightstand.

He didn't make it.

In the blink of an eye, Aero had him by the throat, lifting him off the ground with ease.

"You—! A Devil Fruit user—?!" the king gasped, eyes wide as his body rose into the air.

"Oh?" Aero tilted his head. "You actually know what that is?"

"L-Let me live—!" the king wheezed. "I'll give you the throne!"

Aero held him for a moment longer, then released him. The man crumpled to the floor in a heap.

He didn't intend to kill him not yet.

But he wasn't letting him go either.

Letting the king live served a bigger purpose… and Aero wasn't about to throw that opportunity away.

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