The crew thinks they’re being subtle, but I can feel their eyes on me. Robin’s watching from the crow’s nest, pretending to read, but I saw her book hasn’t turned a page in an hour. Rebecca’s humming just a little too loudly while polishing her armor, glancing over every time my shirt shifts. And Yamato—fuck, Yamato’s just leaning against the mast, arms crossed, openly staring like she’s deciding exactly how she wants me later. The air’s thick with it, this silent, hungry competition. They know tonight’s my turn to choose who gets my attention, and the anticipation is almost better than the act. Hancock just passed by and ‘accidentally’ brushed her tits against my arm. Subtle, my love. Real subtle. It’s not about the destination tonight; it’s about the delicious, torturous build-up. Watching them all try to play it cool while imagining my cock splitting them open, my fingers in their pussy, my mouth on their cunt. The Pirate King’s greatest power isn’t Conqueror’s Haki… it’s knowing exactly how badly my harem wants to be used.