I Sell Gacha Jars in One Piece

Robin hadn't expected Amon to already be inside Rain Dinners. Every scout she had stationed along the approach routes had gone silent without sending back a single report, though she had no way of knowing they had all been quietly put to sleep one by one. Under the blanket of his Observation Haki, no one had been able to pinpoint his location.

"Something wrong, Miss Robin? Am I not welcome?"

"Of course you are. More than welcome." She kept her tone smooth, though behind it her thoughts were already moving. She set aside the question of how he had slipped through undetected, because right now she had a more immediate problem sitting across the table from her.

"Gambling is a dangerous habit for a young man," Fujitora remarked, tilting his head in Amon's general direction.

Amon had made no effort to conceal himself with his Haki, so Fujitora had sensed him clearly the moment he stepped forward.

"Ha, I just saw a man winning at impressive scale and felt like trying my luck. You don't mind, do you?" Amon glanced meaningfully at the towering pile of chips in front of Fujitora. "Though I'm not sure you're really in a position to lecture anyone about whether gambling is a good idea."

He found a seat and settled in.

Fujitora's expression sharpened for just a moment, then broke into a full laugh. "Fair enough! A interesting young man. I'd be happy to play."

A gambler rarely turned down someone worth playing against.

"Then let's go. Open a new round," Amon said to Robin, waving a hand.

"I bet big." Fujitora slid the full mountain of chips forward, dropping everything he had won onto one side. Over a hundred million Berries.

"Then I'll take small."

While the two of them had been talking, Amon had already exchanged for chips at matching value.

Robin paused, momentarily thrown.

She had been quietly dreading the Fujitora problem, and then Amon had materialised from the crowd and inserted himself into it directly. More confusingly, he and Fujitora were now betting against each other at identical amounts, one on big, one on small, which meant the casino would come out even regardless of the result.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked, studying his face with an unreadable expression.

She had spent the last few days helping Crocodile plan how to deal with Amon, and now here he was bailing her out of a difficult situation. It left her genuinely unsettled.

"Ha, no, no. Don't misread this, Miss Robin." Amon smiled easily. "I'm not doing this for you. I just find this particular old man interesting and wanted to play a round with him. That's all there is to it."

He had spotted it from the sidelines. Fujitora had been reading the dice through Observation Haki the entire time, sensing the result before the cup was ever lifted. Technically he was placing the bet before the shake, so it wasn't cheating in the traditional sense. But it was Observation Haki, and that was exactly what made Amon want to sit down. Part of it was curiosity about the man. Part of it was wanting to test how his own upgraded Haki would hold up.

"An interesting man," Robin said, using the same word she always seemed to reach for with him. She picked up the cup and began to shake.

The moment she did, Amon channelled his Observation Haki directly into the cup, wrapping around the dice and sealing them off completely.

Fujitora went still.

The connection he had maintained effortlessly through every previous round simply wasn't there anymore. He extended his Haki further, pushing against whatever was blocking him, probing from different angles. The dice remained invisible. Completely opaque, no matter how much he increased the effort. Across the table, Amon lay back in his chair confidently.

After several more attempts produced nothing, Fujitora quietly let the effort go.

"Ha! Now that is something. In all my years I've never run into anything quite like this." He turned toward Amon with appreciation. "The young should not be underestimated. Truly."

The words landed strangely on the crowd around them. Nobody quite knew what had just happened, but the tone made it clear that something significant had passed between the two men.

Robin's gaze moved across Amon slowly, reading him.

"Go ahead, open it," Amon said to Robin, ignoring the curious stares.

"No need." Fujitora raised a hand before Robin could reach for the cup. "I concede."

He hadn't even asked to see the result.

The crowd stirred with confusion.

"He's giving up? Just like that?"

"They didn't even open it. What happened?"

"Who is this kid? He just beat the blind old man?"

Robin was equally surprised. She had felt the weight of Fujitora's presence clearly enough, the pressure he carried was comparable to Crocodile's, possibly more. And yet this same man had just folded without asking to see the outcome.

She didn't know what had passed between them beneath the surface of that round, only that something had, and that Amon had come out on top.

"I'm called Issho," Fujitora said, making no effort to seem troubled about the pile of chips he had just surrendered. His attention had shifted entirely to Amon. "And you, young man?"

"Amon. A Jar merchant."

Fujitora went quiet for a beat, then his brow lifted with recognition.

"Amon. So you're Amon. That explains it. That explains quite a lot, actually."

"You know me?"

Fujitora's reaction was the last thing Amon had expected. The man clearly knew the name.

"Heh. I've heard of you." He left it deliberately vague, offering nothing about where or from whom.

Then he said something that caught Amon off guard entirely.

"On a different note, are you still selling those Jars of yours? I've heard about them from more than one person now, and I find myself rather curious about my own luck."

He wanted to open a Jar.

Amon hadn't seen that coming. But the fact that Fujitora already knew about them, and seemed to know their reputation, said something about how far the word had spread through Navy circles. Whether he had heard it from Sengoku, Garp, or Kizaru was anyone's guess.