[RLOP] Chapter : 24 - Lucci's dream!!!

Gazing at the crude thatched roof, Lucci’s vision gradually cleared.

Outside, the winter wind howled through the mountains, carrying with it the faint rattle of loose shutters. The light snow that had fallen overnight had blanketed the land in silver—an announcement that the heart of winter had finally arrived.

Feeling the two soft weights pressing against him, Lucci lowered his gaze.

On either side of him, two young girls clung like frightened fawns. Their snowy white and emerald green hair spilled across his chest, strands intermingling.

To be honest, his sleep hadn’t been pleasant.

The white-haired girl—restless even in dreams—kept shifting around, her horns jabbing at his half-healed wounds. Worse still, she would mutter broken fragments in her sleep: “I won’t do it… I won’t ever do it again…”

The green-haired one was little better. Insecure and trembling even while unconscious, she had wrapped her arms tight around his neck and clung to him as if he might vanish if she let go. Anyone else would have woken up with a neck cramp; only his tekkai spared him.

He had spent most of the night twisting and turning, caught between the two of them. If not for the role he’d chosen—the role of a patient—he would have long since tossed the pair of them off the futon.

And yet…

Looking at Yamato and Hiyori, still clinging to him, dried tear marks staining the corners of their eyes, Lucci decided against it. He would let them wake on their own. Consider it… compensation, for altering the course of their lives. After this, the debt between them would be even.

He carefully eased his arms free and rose. After tucking the blankets snugly around them, he checked himself.

His blood-stained white suit had been swapped for a plain kimono, neatly folded by the pillow. Crimson still spotted the bandages across his chest. The wrapping job was clumsy, but painstakingly thorough—every wound covered, every cut treated with care.

His injuries from last night’s self-inflicted ordeal had already begun to scab over. A few more days, and he would be back to normal. But that was expected. With the combined resilience of the Supreme Bandage and his Mythical Zoan recovery, there were few injuries his body couldn’t heal—so long as no parts were missing.

Without hesitation, Lucci stripped off the kimono, cast it aside, and slipped back into his white suit—the style reminiscent of CP0, a look he favored.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

A soft knock echoed at the door.

Lucci showed no alarm. His Observation Haki had already told him who it was: Jerry and Bruce.

Not that it mattered. In the current Wano Country, aside from the so-called Monster of Kuri, Ashura Doji, there was no one left capable of threatening him. And even Ashura Doji, the strongest of the Scabbards, was only marginally dangerous.

After all, the Nine Red Scabbards together had amounted to nothing more than one strike from Kaido.

But he—Rob Lucci—had endured two.

And don’t underestimate those two. A single Haki-clad Thunder Bagua from Kaido was enough to cripple legends. If you survived one, you had something to brag about for life.

Pulling the door open, he found Jerry and Bruce bowing low, snow sliding from Bruce’s shoulders.

“Big Brother Lucci,” they said in unison.

Lucci gave a small nod. “The villagers?”

“Handled, Big Brother,” Bruce replied quickly. “Last night, we spread word of a samurai raid. Everyone has been relocated to a village under the Beast Pirates’ protection.”

“Oh, and your item.” He pulled out a Transponder Snail.

Jerry stepped forward, gesturing to the supplies behind him. “And food. We thought you might be hungry when you woke up.”

Behind them was a small mountain of provisions.

“You’ve been thoughtful.” Lucci tucked the snail into his suit, patting their shoulders. “You’ve worked hard. Later, I’ll be speaking to Kaido-san about restructuring the Beast Pirates. Your contributions will not be forgotten.”

The two bowed deeper, their reverence clear.

“It’s no hardship, Big Brother! Everything is for you!”

They didn’t bother asking about rewards. Among Kaido’s men, Lucci had already built a reputation. Subordinates whispered about him in a circulating “Best Big Brother Manual,” where he ranked at the top. The reason was simple—clear punishments, generous rewards, never mistreating the loyal.

And his distribution of fifty Devil Fruits had cemented it.

Fifty fruits—worth billions of berries. Enough to buy Kaido’s head outright. Yet Lucci had handed them freely to his men, strengthening the Beasts Pirates and binding them to him with loyalty.

Had Kaido given him those fruits as a test? A welcome gift? Both, perhaps. Regardless, selling them would have been spitting in Kaido’s face. Giving them to his followers was the only right move.

“Big Brother, if that’s all, we’ll take our leave,” Jerry said respectfully.

“Yes. Call for us anytime,” Bruce added.

After quietly moving the food inside, the two withdrew.

Once the small hut had faded from sight, Jerry glanced at Bruce, who wore a strange expression.

“What’s on your mind?”

Bruce stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I’m wondering if Big Brother noticed the snow falling from my shoulder… I placed it there deliberately.”

“YOU DOG! BRUCE!” Jerry roared, smacking him on the back of the head.

Inside the small house, Lucci sat before the mountain of food.

Beside him, Yamato and Hiyori slept on as if drugged, their exhaustion dragging them deeper into dreams.

He paused for a moment, then quietly separated all the dishes that had salmon and every plate of desserts, pulling them close.

Without hesitation, he began to eat.

In this world, being able to eat much didn’t necessarily mean you were strong. But those who were strong could always eat a lot.

And so, with calm elegance, Lucci devoured plate after plate. The pile shrank at a startling pace, vanishing into the bottomless pit of his stomach—though his abdomen remained flat and unshaken.

【Life Return】.

A skill no true powerhouse could neglect. For warriors, assassins, it was as essential as air.

On the futon, a small murmur slipped out.

“Mmm…”

As if the scent of food had reached her in dreams, Yamato stirred, groping blindly with her hand. Her palm brushed against Hiyori.

“Ooh—” a soft sound escaped, and Yamato’s eyes flew open. She shot upright in a fluster, while Hiyori, cheeks already red, sat up stiffly as well.

“Lucci!” Yamato’s eyes darted around in panic until they found him in his white suit. Only then did her shoulders ease. She didn’t know why—she simply felt lighter when he was near, as though the weight on her chest loosened.

Hiyori, in contrast, peeked timidly, then ducked her head again, the memory of clutching this stranger all night leaving her face flushed. She tugged at her rumpled kimono, caught between wanting to look and being too embarrassed to.

“Lucci, I— gurgle~”

Before she could finish, Yamato’s stomach betrayed her with a loud growl. She pressed her hands to it, eyes squeezed shut in mortification.

Then came the smell of roasted salmon.

A moment later, several steaming bowls were pushed into her reach by long, calloused fingers.

“Eat. Whatever you want to say, say it after you’re full.”

The calm, youthful voice washed over Yamato like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

A meal. In a land like Wano, in times like these—there was no greater kindness.

“Lucci…” Her voice cracked. She clutched the chopsticks he handed her, forcing back tears, and dove into the bowl.

Slurp!—salmon, her favorite.

She wanted to speak, but the words stuck in her throat. She could only eat, watching him out of the corner of her eye. Unlike her, his eating was fast, quiet, yet oddly refined.

On the other side, Hiyori hesitated, her expression dimming slightly.

Before she could sink further into her thoughts, Lucci slid a plate of delicate desserts toward her.

“I don’t know your tastes. If you don’t mind, make do with these.”

She froze.

I… get some too?

Tears blurred her vision. For someone who had been on the run for years, sweets were a luxury—her last taste had been a candied hawthorn Kawatamatsu had once brought her, long ago.

She bowed deeply. “Thank you, Benefactor-sama.”

Then, in small, trembling bites, she began to eat.

The sweetness spread across her tongue, and memories surged unbidden. Her family together, sailing aboard Whitebeard’s ship—the happiest days of her life. But the vision shifted, burning away into fire. The day her mother said goodbye.

Her brother chosen as the future shogun. Her brother leaving with retainers. And she, left behind. Left in Wano. Alone.

She had been six years old.

The memories twisted again: wandering the mountains with Kawatamatsu, year after year. Growing older, realizing what twenty years meant.

Resentment took root. Maybe her parents hadn’t wanted her. Maybe her brother had abandoned her. Bitterness filled her heart, until every day tasted like ashes.

Across from her, Lucci watched silently.

Yamato was at least aware enough to keep eating, switching plates as she emptied them.

But Hiyori? She was drowning in her past. Her plate had long been empty, yet she kept staring at it, tears dripping one by one until they pooled on the porcelain.

And then—pathetically, stubbornly—she spooned those tears into her mouth, as if they too were food.

Lucci exhaled slowly, lips curling faintly. She really is made of water.

Closing his eyes, he reached inward.

Emotion Seeker.

A technique he rarely used. With children, it wasn’t needed. Treat them kindly, and they would naturally flock to him. Adults were even simpler—they weighed everything by profit. So long as he wasn’t greedy like Captain John, his crew’s loyalty was secure.

Only in cases like Yamato, whose simple mind needed nudging, did he ever bother using it.

Besides, the technique had its flaws. A dominated soul, turned into a “slave” lost everything—self, emotion, identity. Reduced to a puppet.

That, Lucci disliked. Companions who only obeyed were worth less than those who could truly respond.

Still, now… he brushed lightly against Hiyori’s heart. The flood of grief and resentment nearly drowned him.

Enough to feed ten cursed swords, he thought wryly.

He withdrew, shaking his head. Then, without a word, he pushed another plate of desserts before her, replacing the one soaked in tears.