After Sora finished recounting his battle with Shiki and its lessons to Kuina, a commotion erupted on the lower deck.
"Whoa!"
"No way!"
"Actual Devil Fruits?!"
Ahua, Alo, and Ata gawked, eyes gleaming, at the box in Indigo's hands.
The box was open, revealing two bizarre fruits—one black, one white—etched with spiraling patterns.
Sea treasures, Devil Fruits?
They looked delicious.
The trio stared hungrily, swallowing hard in unison.
The fruits seemed magical, exuding an irresistible aura, like the world's tastiest meal, begging to be eaten.
They didn't grab them, mustering immense willpower to look away, turning to Sora as he descended from the bow.
They couldn't believe it. Just days ago, Sora was lecturing them about Devil Fruits. Now, he'd brought back two.
Sora passed them without mocking their dazed expressions.
Even he felt a flicker of temptation.
To ordinary folks, Devil Fruits were like a devil's lure.
Greed, craving, the urge to claim them—human nature at work.
Most Devil Fruits were eaten upon discovery, with only a rare few preserved.
Those kept were either found by someone who'd already eaten a Fruit or by someone extraordinary.
Normal people couldn't resist the pull.
Even clueless about their powers, the temptation was overwhelming.
That's why Devil Fruits were so rare in circulation.
For most pirates, seafarers, or factions, they were a stroke of luck and a fortune.
But to lofty Celestial Dragons? Mere trinkets.
They'd feed them to slaves for laughs.
So, precious? Sure, to commoners. To big shots, only Natural-types or Mythical Zoans were prized.
Ordinary Zoans or Paramecia? Just fruit.
These two survived because, to Shiki, they were worthless—not even good for weapon trades.
As Sora approached, Indigo hopped forward with a "poof!" and presented the box, grinning.
"Kara-kara! Captain, three crewmates, but only two Fruits. How'll you split 'em?"
Sora plucked the black Ant Fruit and tossed it to Alo.
Catching it clumsily, Alo listened as Sora explained.
"This is the Zoan: Ant Fruit. Its powers? You'll know once you eat it."
Pausing, he glanced at Ahua and Ata, smiling. "Why Alo? This Fruit matches his personality."
"Personality?" Alo asked, puzzled.
"Yup, personality."
Sora eyed Alo with a glint of respect.
Alo was the type to nail any task, no matter how grueling.
He could man the crow's nest 24 hours straight.
Enduring loneliness in a cramped space? That's a rare trait.
Among the trio, Alo was the only one who'd tasted the real world. He knew what a team needed.
That's why he trained with a gun.
With enough swordmasters on board, guns were the deadliest choice for non-swordsmen like them.
Alo craved power most—enough to ditch a fiancée to sail with Sora.
When Alo joined, Sora spotted his hidden ambition, likely forged through life's hard knocks.
Smiling at Alo, Sora said, "It's not just people choosing Fruits—Fruits choose people."
"Those who vibe with a Fruit's essence can push its powers further."
Glancing at the Ant Fruit, he added, "This Fruit fits you perfectly: team-first, tireless, dutiful, fearless."
"Others call it weak, but I think, developed right, it's strong."
Sora gave Alo an encouraging nod.
He trusted Alo and his gut. The Ant Fruit wasn't as feeble as books claimed.
Ants were nature's most numerous insects, after all.
Buoyed by Sora's faith, Alo didn't hesitate. If Sora chose him, he'd take it.
Raising the Ant Fruit, he chomped down hard.
"Urgh!"
It wasn't delicious—it was like month-old, moldy, reeking fish.
A vile taste rampaged through his mouth. If he hadn't clamped it shut, he'd have spat it out instantly.
Gritting his teeth, eyes fierce, Alo swallowed.
Staring at the remaining fruit, he didn't stop, wolfing it down in big bites.
As he finished, his stomach churned like a storm, a rancid stench surging up his throat.
Clutching his mouth, face red, he fought to keep it down.
"Gack!"
After a moment, he lost it, collapsing to dry-heave, tears and snot streaming.
Ahua and Ata, watching, swallowed hard, glancing at the white Rabbit Fruit in the box.
A flicker of dread crossed their faces.
That bad?
How vile was it to reduce Alo to this?
Sora and Indigo burst out laughing.
Kuina, hands on Sora's back, doubled over, cackling like a goose.
Devil Fruits were notoriously foul.
Rumor said they were worse than dung—some brave soul must've compared them to reach that verdict. Sora could only salute such courage.
He knew they were bad, but not this bad.
Alo probably never wanted to see another Devil Fruit again.
(End of Chapters)