The Golden Cruise Ship, a behemoth of burnished metal and polished wood, eased into the azure waters of Cocoashi Village. Its hull gleamed, catching the morning sun, a dazzling beacon against the verdant coastline.

Children, their laughter echoing across the sand moments before, froze mid-chase, their eyes widening, mouths falling agape.

A small, dark-haired boy, no older than seven, pointed a trembling finger.

"Hey, look, what is this?" His voice, usually boisterous, came out a reedy whisper.

A girl, her pigtails bouncing as she craned her neck, gasped. "So amazing."

Another, smaller still, tugged on her friend’s tattered shirt. "Look, there’s a handsome big brother and beautiful big sisters there."

Her words, innocent yet perceptive, drew their gazes from the magnificent vessel to the figures now descending the gangplank: Lakeman, his golden hair shimmering, flanked by Robin, Lily, Makino, and Mirana, along with a few maids.

Lakeman’s boots crunched on the coarse sand, a soft sigh of sea breeze rustling his immaculate robes.

The children, a cluster of wide-eyed curiosity, watched their approach. A few, bolder than the rest, darted away, their small legs pumping, shrieking warnings and wonders to the village beyond the palm trees.

"They’re coming! The golden ship people are coming!"

Genzo, his weathered face etched with the sun and sea, stood among a small group of villagers. The children’s excited cries reached him, and he followed their frantic pointing. His eyes, keen from years of watching the horizon, landed on Lakeman’s face.

A cold dread snaked through him, tightening his gut. His face, usually a mask of sturdy resolve, blanched. Fear, stark and primal, filled his gaze.

He dropped to his knees, a guttural sound escaping his throat, and roughly pulled the child beside him down as well.

"Forgive these children’s ignorance, Saint Lakeman. They don’t know your status. We welcome your arrival at our village." Genzo’s voice, muffled by the sand he pressed his forehead into, trembled.

Lakeman’s gaze swept over the kneeling figures, a curious tilt to his head. He recognized the man, even if time had not yet carved the deeper lines of sorrow and fatherhood onto his features. Genzo, the sheriff, the future anchor for Nami and Nojiko. A faint smile touched Lakeman’s lips.

"Stand up, everyone." Lakeman’s voice, calm and resonant, carried across the beach.

A golden aura, imperceptible to the naked eye but palpable as a gentle pressure, emanated from him, lifting the villagers to their feet. They swayed, disoriented, their muscles compelled by an unseen force. Conqueror’s Haki, precisely controlled, a mere whisper of its true power, yet enough to convey his will.

They rose, their heads still bowed, eyes fixed on the sand, avoiding his. The children, however, peered up, a mixture of awe and trepidation in their innocent faces.

"How do you know my identity? Don’t worry, I don’t eat people. I’m not like other Celestial Dragons, and I don’t like people kneeling at every turn." Lakeman’s tone was light, an attempt to ease the palpable tension.

Genzo swallowed, a dry rasp in his throat. Sweat beaded on his brow, trickling down his temples despite the cool breeze. "It’s... because of the newspaper yesterday.

It describes Saint Lakeman’s heroic deed of killing the villainous Four Emperor Shanks and his red-haired pirate group." His voice was still laced with apprehension, but a flicker of pride, or perhaps relief, touched his eyes.

"Ah, that." Lakeman waved a dismissive hand. "Alright, don’t be nervous. We’re just sightseeing the whole East Blue. We heard that Cocoashi Village has the best oranges in the East Blue Sea area, so we came here to sightsee the village and try your delicious oranges."

His words were casual, but the mention of "delicious oranges" ignited a flicker in his mind, conjuring images of a future Nami and Nojiko, their curves ripened, their laughter echoing through groves. A warmth spread through him, a slow, insistent thrumming in his loins.

’Right now, they’re still younger, but after a few months of specialized nutrition, medicine, and my life force injection, their peak hotness can be directly enjoyed. But for now, I can make do with their adoptive mother and ex-Marine Bellemere, while saving her life from destined death. After all, if I save her life, it wouldn’t be too much to ask her to dedicate her body, right? Fufu.’ A faint, almost imperceptible smirk touched his lips.

Genzo, still wary, nodded slowly. "Oranges? Yes, our oranges are indeed the best." He gestured towards the village, a hesitant hand sweeping across the modest homes nestled amongst the palm trees. "Please, follow me. I’ll take you to the grove."

As they walked, the children, emboldened by Lakeman’s relaxed demeanor, began to trail behind, their whispers and curious glances following every move. Robin, her dark eyes observing everything, leaned closer to Lakeman.

"They seem... genuinely terrified. Your reputation precedes you, it seems." Her voice, a low murmur, was barely audible above the gentle lapping of waves.

Lakeman chuckled, a rich, deep sound. "A necessary evil, sometimes. Fear can be a powerful tool. But I prefer admiration, or at least respect, to blind terror. These people, though... they remind me of the innocence the world once had, before the Celestial Dragons twisted everything."

Lily, her usually stoic face softened by the village’s peaceful aura, pointed towards a small, brightly painted house. "The children seem to be recovering their courage. Look, they’re pointing at your clothes."

Indeed, a small girl, her finger aimed at Makino’s flowing dress, giggled behind her hand. Makino, ever graceful, offered a warm smile, which seemed to disarm the children further.

Mirana spoke up. "It’s a strange thing, this reverence. To be feared for what you are, not what you’ve done. But I love it."

"It’s the price of power, Mirana," Lakeman replied, his eyes scanning the village.

"But I intend to wield it differently. To protect, not to oppress." He noticed a young woman, her back to them, tending a small garden. Her red hair, vibrant as a sunset, caught his eye.

’Bellemere. Closer than I thought.’

He thoughts were interrupted as Robin playfully commented: "offcource! protect beautiful and helpless girls."

Genzo led them through the village, past small, neatly kept homes, their walls adorned with fishing nets and drying clothes. The air smelled of salt and a faint, sweet citrus. Villagers, drawn by the commotion, peered from doorways, their faces a mix of curiosity and lingering apprehension.

"Our grove is just beyond these houses," Genzo announced, his voice gaining a touch more confidence as they moved away from the initial shock. "We pride ourselves on our oranges. They’re sweet, juicy, and have a unique tang."

Lakeman nodded, his gaze still fixed on the red-haired woman.

She turned, sensing their presence, and her eyes, sharp and intelligent, met his. A flash of surprise, then a flicker of defiance, crossed her features.

Bellemere’s form was athletic, lean, the kind of body forged by hard work and a life lived on the edge. His mind conjured images of those strong thighs wrapping around him, her hands gripping his back as he drove into her. The thought sent a jolt of pleasure through him, a silent promise.

"Bellemere, these are our guests," Genzo said, a slight tremor in his voice as he introduced her. "They’ve come to see our oranges."

Bellemere’s eyes narrowed slightly, taking in Lakeman’s golden attire, the aura of power that clung to him. She didn’t kneel, didn’t bow, merely offered a curt nod.

"Guests, huh? Never seen ones like you before." Her voice was husky, a hint of steel beneath the casual tone.

Lakeman found her defiance intriguing.

"Indeed. We are... explorers of sorts. And connoisseurs of fine fruit." His eyes lingered on her, assessing, appreciating. He could feel the latent strength in her, the fire that would make her a fierce lover.

Bellemere’s gaze sharpened, sensing the unspoken intent behind his words, a flicker of irritation crossing her face. "Well, the grove’s that way. Help yourself, I suppose." She gestured with a dirt-stained hand, then turned back to her plants, a clear dismissal.

Genzo shifted uncomfortably. "Bellemere, that’s not... these are important visitors."

"Important or not, they can find their own way to the trees," Bellemere retorted, her back still to them. "I’ve got work to do."

Lakeman chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that seemed to vibrate through the air. "I like her spirit. No need to apologize, Genzo. A woman who knows her mind is a rare and beautiful thing." His eyes, still on Bellemere, held a predatory glint.

He walked past Genzo, towards the grove, his companions following.

As he passed Bellemere, he paused, his voice dropping to a seductive murmur. "Perhaps, later, you could show me other... unique tangs... this village has to offer." He didn’t wait for a reply, continuing his stroll, a silent promise hanging in the air.

Bellemere stiffened, her hands clenching into fists, a flush rising on her neck. She shot a venomous glare at his retreating back, but he didn’t turn.

The orange grove was a symphony of green and gold. Ripe fruit hung heavy on branches, their vibrant color a stark contrast to the deep green leaves. The air was thick with the sweet, tangy scent of citrus.

Lakeman reached out, plucking an orange, its skin smooth and cool beneath his fingers. He peeled it with practiced ease, the zest spraying a fine mist into the air, and bit into a segment. The juice burst in his mouth, a sweet explosion that coated his tongue.

"Exquisite," he declared, his voice carrying through the quiet grove. "Truly, the best."

Robin smiled, a genuine warmth spreading across her face. "It seems your information was correct. These are indeed remarkable." She picked an orange herself, savoring the moment.

Makino and Lily, too, indulged, their expressions reflecting quiet enjoyment. Mirana, however, was more interested in the village, her gaze sweeping across the distant houses.

"Saint Lakeman," Genzo began, his voice a little steadier now, "what brings a Celestial Dragon such as yourself to our humble village? If it’s not just the oranges, that is." He finally dared to meet Lakeman’s eyes.

Lakeman finished his orange, wiping his fingers on a pristine white cloth he produced from thin air. "As I said, sightseeing. But also... a matter of future investments." His eyes twinkled.

"This village, this island... it has potential. And certain... individuals... who possess a spirit I find... captivating." His gaze drifted back towards Bellemere’s house, a subtle hint in his words.

Genzo’s brow furrowed, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "Individuals? We are a simple fishing village. We have little to offer beyond our oranges and our hard work."

"Hard work is a valuable commodity, Genzo. And spirit... that is priceless." Lakeman’s smile widened, a hint of something mischievous in his eyes. "I intend to ensure this village thrives. And perhaps, along the way, cultivate certain... relationships."

A few hours later, after sampling more oranges and strolling through the village, Lakeman and his companions returned to the Golden Cruise Ship. The sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple.

Bellemere, still working in her garden, watched them go, her expression unreadable.

That evening, as the stars began to pepper the inky sky, a small dinghy, rowed by a single, determined figure, approached the Golden Cruise Ship. Bellemere, her red hair gleaming in the moonlight, clambered aboard, her jaw set.

A CP agent, surprised by her unexpected arrival, directed her to Lakeman’s private quarters.

She walked down the opulent corridor, the plush carpet muffling her footsteps, a strange mix of apprehension and defiance warring within her.

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