The morning sun shone brightly over Monaco.
Tony’s three-story luxury yacht, *Sea Breeze Wings*, slowly drifted away from the port of Monte Carlo.
The deck still bore the remnants of last night’s wild party:
Empty wine bottles, scattered underwear, high heels…
Inside the master cabin, Shaun Vance leaned back against the sofa by the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing out at the azure Mediterranean Sea.
Carl rested her head on his lap, her blonde hair spilling across his knees as she idly toyed with his fingers with half-asleep eyes.
“You were absolutely wild last night,” Shaun said.
Carl giggled.
“With endless champagne, who could resist?
Besides…” She looked up, her eyes laced with mischief.
“When that reporter and I were tangled together…
didn’t someone get even more excited?”
Shaun pinched her cheek.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Shaun?
You awake yet?” Tony’s voice drifted through the door.
“The flight back to New York is at ten.
If you don’t get up now, I’m throwing you in the ocean!”
Shaun stood up and opened the door.
Tony stood there in a floral shirt and board shorts, sunglasses pushed up onto his head, holding two cups of coffee.
“Here, some fuel to wake you up.” He handed over a cup.
“Pepper is already packing.
Women are such a hassle.
We’re flying on my private jet, yet she still insists on bringing three suitcases of clothes.”
Shaun took a sip of his coffee.
“What about your ‘trophies’?
Those Victoria’s Secret models from last night?”
“Sent them packing long ago,” Tony shrugged.
“You know my rule.
I never go for seconds.”
“Scumbag.”
“Hey!” Tony protested.
“I was only trying to help you scout out—”
“Stop right there,” Shaun raised a hand.
“Christine and I were just a one-time thing.”
The two walked up to the deck, joking and laughing.
Pepper and Natasha were already sitting under the awning, breakfast plates set before them.
Jessica was there too, excitedly snapping photos of seagulls with her phone.
“Morning, Boss!” she called out, her eyes shining when she saw Shaun.
“Monaco is amazing!
Can I—”
“No,” Shaun cut her off.
“Whether you get to come for the next team-building trip depends on your performance.”
Jessica slumped, deflated.
After finishing breakfast, the group took a speedboat back to shore.
The motorcade was already waiting at the dock, prepared to head to Nice Airport.
Before getting in, Shaun suddenly stopped Tony.
“Want to experience…
a slightly faster way back?”
Tony raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?
You have a private rocket?”
Instead of answering, Shaun turned and walked toward the glass doors of a yacht rental company next to the dock.
It was a massive, spotless floor-to-ceiling glass door that clearly reflected their figures.
He reached out and pressed his palm against the glass.
“Mirror World: Channel open.”
Ripples washed over the glass surface like a stone dropped into water.
As the ripples spread, the entire door transformed into a flowing silver curtain of light.
Tony’s eyes went wide.
“What in the world is that?!”
“It connects two locations I’ve visited through a mirror,” Shaun said, looking back.
“Theoretically…
as long as there’s a mirror, I can go anywhere I’ve been before.”
Pepper covered her mouth.
“Oh my God…”
Natasha’s eyes sharpened, instantly thinking of all the criminal applications for such a skill.
“Come on, line up, one by one,” Shaun gestured.
“If you get lost in the Mirror World, I’m not responsible for finding you.”
He stepped into the curtain of light first, his figure vanishing instantly.
As a fellow Mirror-Mirror Fruit user, Carl naturally followed without hesitation.
Jessica swallowed hard, closed her eyes, and charged in.
Tony looked at Pepper, then at the bizarre door, and grinned.
“Things science can’t explain are always the most fun!”
He pulled Pepper along and stepped inside.
Natasha was last.
She paused before the door for a second, carefully sensing her surroundings.
There were no energy fluctuations, no signs of spatial distortion.
It felt as though…
she was truly just walking through an ordinary door.
She stepped forward.
The sensation of weightlessness lasted only half a second.
When she opened her eyes again, she and the others were already standing in a spacious, sunlit living room.
About seven seconds of memory in between seemed to be missing.
Outside the panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows was the familiar New York skyline.
The penthouse of Stark Tower.
“Wow…” Tony whistled.
“This is way faster than flying!
A seven-hour flight turned into seven seconds!”
He rushed to the window to confirm he was indeed back in New York, then turned to stare at Shaun, his eyes gleaming.
“This ability is too convenient!
As long as there’s a mirror, you can enter that dimension and slip in anywhere in the world?
Bank vaults, the Pentagon, the White House…”
“Only if I’ve been there first,” Shaun popped his bubble.
“The mirrors in the Mirror World can’t open a door to a place I’ve never visited.”
“That’s still incredibly overpowered!” Tony rubbed his hands together.
“Next time I go to Paris, I’ll tag the mirror in your restaurant first, and then…”
“Don’t even think about it,” Shaun patted his shoulder.
“This ability wasn’t made to be your personal portal.
Alright, I need to head back and open up shop.”
“You’re leaving already?” Tony looked disappointed.
“There’s a party tonight!”
“Have fun on your own,” Shaun walked toward a full-length dressing mirror on the other side of the living room.
“My restaurant opens this evening.”
He pressed his hand against the glass, and the ripples spread once more.
Carl and Jessica followed close behind.
The three of them stepped into the mirror one after another.
The light curtain faded, and the mirror returned to normal.
Tony stood where he was, stroking his chin, his eyes flashing.
“JARVIS,” he said to the empty air, “analyze the spatial displacement data from just now.”
“Right away, Sir.
Shall I name the new folder?”
Tony pondered for a moment, then said, “Call it: Anti-Shaun Armor!”
***
Dragon Pavilion.
Shaun, Carl, and Jessica stepped out of the full-length mirror in the back kitchen.
“We’re finally back!” Jessica stretched.
“As great as Monaco was, nothing beats home~”
Carl kicked off her high heels and stepped barefoot onto the floor.
“I’m going to take a shower.
I smell entirely like the sea…”
Before she could finish her sentence, she froze.
Jessica’s eyes widened too.
Someone was sitting in the booth by the window.
His massive frame, standing well over two meters tall, made the chair look like a children’s toy.
His dark gray suit was pressed perfectly, without a single wrinkle.
Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin.
He was methodically wiping a pair of gold-rimmed glasses with a white handkerchief, his movements as elegant as an art dealer’s.
Bullseye stood half a step behind him.
On the floor beside them, over twenty aluminum alloy briefcases were stacked neatly.
Fisk looked up, put his glasses back on, and offered a faint smile.
“Back from vacation, Mr.
Vance?”
Shaun patted the backs of the two women’s hands, signaling them to relax.
“Go upstairs,” he said quietly.
“He doesn’t mean any harm.”
“Boss…” Jessica wanted to say something.
“Do as you’re told.”
Carl bit her lip, took Jessica’s hand, and quickly led her up the stairs.
Their footsteps faded on the second floor.
Only then did Shaun turn around, walking leisurely over to sit across from Fisk.
He picked up the clay teapot on the table, poured himself a cup of tea, and took a sip.
“Mr.
Fisk,” he said, setting down his teacup.
“My establishment doesn’t open until six in the evening.
You’re a bit early if you’re looking for a meal.”
Fisk smiled.
It was warm, yet his eyes remained entirely cold.
“I didn’t come to eat.”
He gestured to Bullseye behind him.
“My associate here reserved a Devil Fruit with you a week ago and paid a ten-million-dollar deposit.
Today…
I am here to pay the remaining balance.”
Shaun raised an eyebrow.
“An associate buys a fruit, and the boss has to personally come deliver the cash?
Isn’t that a bit too much customer service?”
Fisk did not take the bait.
Instead, he leaned forward, folding his hands on the table—hands so thick and brutal they looked capable of easily crushing a human skull.
“It’s more than one fruit.” His voice was deep and low.
“I brought 290 million dollars in cash this time.
It is all the liquid capital I could scrape together without disrupting my operations.”
He paused, staring directly into Shaun’s eyes.
“I want to buy three.”
Shaun’s hand froze mid-sip.
He looked up, studying Fisk intently.
The big boss looked slightly more haggard than he had during their last meeting.
Though well-hidden, the bloodshot veins in his eyes and the slight sagging of his facial muscles could not lie.
Shaun immediately understood.
He secretly brought up his system panel:
[Sync Target Status Update] Matt Murdock (Press-Press Fruit): Sync Rate 58% Wilson Fisk (Bear-Bear Fruit, Model: Koala): Sync Rate 52%
Just as he thought.
Matt’s development of the Press-Press Fruit was a step ahead of Fisk.
A Zoan-type was already at a disadvantage against a Paramecia-type at the same level of mastery, to say nothing of the incredibly high ceiling of the Press-Press Fruit.
Fisk must have suffered a massive setback in Hell’s Kitchen over the past week.
“Three…” Shaun set down his teacup.
“You certainly think big, Mr.
Fisk.”
He waved his right hand across the tabletop.
Ripples shimmered.
Three differently shaped Devil Fruits materialized out of thin air.
The first was a dusty gray-black, its surface covered in rough, short bristles, shaped like an elongated wolf’s head.
The second was deep brown with a thick, wrinkled rind, topped by a short, stubby protrusion resembling a rhinoceros horn.
The third was a dark violet with a smooth, scale-like pattern, long and coiled like a sleeping serpent.
“Dog-Dog Fruit, Model: Wolf.” “Ox-Ox Fruit, Model: Rhinoceros.” “Snake-Snake Fruit, Model: King Cobra.”
Shaun introduced them one by one:
“They’re all Zoan-types, but each enhances different traits.
The Wolf emphasizes speed, scent, and pack tactics.
The Rhinoceros focuses on defense and pure charging power.
The King Cobra offers lethal venom, flexibility, and stealth strikes.
As for how much power they can ultimately unleash, that depends entirely on how the user develops them.”
Fisk’s gaze swept over the three fruits, and he nodded.
He snapped his fingers.
Bullseye immediately bent down and began popping open the briefcases.
*Click.
Clack.
Click.*
Stacks of hundred-dollar bills were revealed, casting a cold, greenish hue under the restaurant lights.
Twenty-seven briefcases, all packed to the brim.
“Count it,” Fisk said.
Without even glancing at the money, Shaun merely snapped his fingers again.
Gravity Manipulation: Levitation.
Every single briefcase rose in unison, drifting as if cradled by invisible hands toward the massive decorative mirror hanging on the restaurant wall.
The mirror’s surface rippled.
One by one, the cases sank into the mirror and vanished.
The entire process was silent and eerie.
Bullseye’s pupils contracted.
Every time he crossed paths with this Chinese restaurant owner, he witnessed yet another formidable ability.
Fisk, however, simply applauded.
“Aren’t you going to count it, Mr.
Vance?
Two hundred and ninety million is no small sum.”
Shaun rolled his eyes.
“How am I supposed to count that much?
Besides…
I trust you wouldn’t shortchange me.”
Fisk laughed, his voice booming.
“Excellent!
I like your style, Mr.
Vance!”
He stood up, his height of nearly 2.3 meters making the restaurant’s ceiling feel suddenly cramped.
Bullseye stepped forward, carefully packing the three fruits into a specially reinforced metal case.
“We won’t take up any more of your time, then,” Fisk said with a slight nod, his massive frame heading for the door.
Clutching the case, Bullseye followed closely on his heels.
The door clicked shut.
The windchimes chimed softly.
Shaun remained in his seat, pouring himself another cup of tea and taking his time finishing it.
Only then did he stand up, lock the door, and draw the blinds.
He pulled up his system panel.
[Ding!
Successfully sold three Devil Fruits!]
[Obtained: Basic Reward × 3]