Vivi and the middle-aged man in the lavender kimono roamed the capital of Lulusia, circling its casinos one after another.
All the casinos in the city were seeing profits soar—owners grinning ear to ear like it was the Golden Week in Alabasta. Their mood was elated, but nearby pirates weren't so lucky. No one's money falls from the sky. Whether it was Vivi or the middle-aged swordsman, neither carried hundreds of millions of Berries. Not because they didn't have it—just that it wasn't convenient. The method was simple: run out of money? Go hunt pirates. In the New World, even a low-level pirate's bounty could surpass ten million easily.
Vivi chose her targets with care, avoiding high-bounty pirates or those with deep connections. The man in the kimono, however, held no such reservations. Pirate name, background—none of that mattered. If they bore the Jolly Roger, they were fair game.
They'd hunt pirates, turn in the bounties to the World Government, collect the rewards—and lose it all at the roulette wheel. Then, they'd do it again.
Eventually, the cash reserves of several casino owners couldn't keep up. Even the World Government's bounty offices ran out of physical cash.
So what happened? The casinos began issuing white notes—IOUs backed by bounty receipts. "Take this chit," they said, "you can cash it at any World Government office or job site."
Vivi didn't mind. She simply brought the white note back to the table.
"Change this for chips," she told the casino staff, handing over the note.
At first, the employee didn't recognize it. But when the casino owner took one look at the seal of the World Government and Vivi's calm demeanor, he turned pale.
It was the same casino in the southern district—three days ago, this very owner had personally dealt 39 losing hands to Vivi, setting off what became the hottest gossip in Lulusia's underground.
Now, confronted with a voucher stamped by the government and Vivi's unreadable eyes, fear finally crept into his heart. His earlier greed evaporated, replaced by the cold sweat of realization. The more he thought about it, the worse it got. The more scared he became, the more his mind raced.
Vivi laughed softly.
She sensed the man's fear like reading a page from a book. In truth, she was fanning it further.
Just yesterday, her Observation Haki had finally awakened. But unlike some who pick up Haki through life-or-death trials or inherited will, her growth was rooted in patience and presence. Her panel now showed:
"Observation Haki Lv.4 (600/1000)"
Among her many talents—dance, etiquette, music, and swordsmanship—her Haki now ranked highest. And under this Haki, she'd unlocked a new skill: Suggestion.
It wasn't mind control. More like nudging fate itself. Planting an idea without the other party knowing, much like someone setting their mind on waking at 4 a.m. and actually doing it without an alarm.
That's what Vivi did now: implanting suggestion through emotion. She didn't fully understand the mechanics yet, but she was here to test its power—and to reclaim her money.
The casino owner's mental defenses collapsed. He was completely exposed to her will.
"You're asking where the voucher came from?" Vivi smiled. "It was issued by the World Government. Who'd dare forge something like that?"
Then, louder, "Hurry and exchange it for chips—I came to play."
The very mention of the World Government made everyone stiffen. No one—especially not the nobles backing these casinos—wanted trouble with them. One false step, and the Cipher Pol could be knocking.
"Those pirates..." the owner whispered.
"I caught them myself," Vivi answered. "A girl doesn't carry that kind of cash for fun. So I hunted a few pirates. That okay with you?"
"N-no! Welcome, you're always welcome!" The owner wiped the sweat from his brow, then screamed to his staff, "Get her chips! Now!"
Vivi won that day. She bet on black 39 times in a row. Not a single white result. As if the goddess of fortune had finally returned from her vacation. She not only won back the 30 million Berries she'd lost—she left with several million more.
This time, she didn't say "I'll come back tomorrow." She simply took Ain and Binz and walked out, satisfied.
Shortly after, the middle-aged man in the lavender kimono arrived at the same casino.
Polite and composed, he showed the dealer his own white note—another official World Government voucher. "The local office said the Lulusia treasury was empty," he said humbly. "They offered me this. May I exchange it for chips here?"
But this time, the owner hesitated. He didn't feel right. Vivi's earlier use of Suggestion had been too intense. Now that the haze had cleared, paranoia crept in.
Was this man a scammer? Had the blind man heard of the blind woman's winnings, and come to pull the same trick?
His thoughts grew dark. His emotions boiled over. Then came the command.
Several burly thugs emerged from the shadows—shirts off, muscles rippling, pipes and blades in hand. They surrounded the man in lavender from all sides.
The blind man let out a small, weary sigh. "Why... must it come to this?" he murmured, gently tapping his bamboo stick against the floor.
The next instant—a meteor fell from the sky.
It was no natural phenomenon. Fiery red, blazing with heat and raw force, it struck like judgment itself—straight onto the roof of the casino.