The sky above the East Blue was vast, azure, and deceptively calm.
Two thousand meters above sea level, the central landmass of Merveille drifted at a steady, disciplined pace.
The air at this altitude was crisp and thin, but within the boundary of the citadel’s outer terraces, the howling headwind was neutralized by Arthur’s precise manipulation of atmospheric pressure through the Fuwa Fuwa no Mi.
Arthur stood on the stone balustrade of the northern terrace, his crimson-lined black greatcoat billowing gently behind him.
His golden eyes were calm, reflecting the vast sea of clouds below.
In the two days since they had departed Orange Town, he had not wasted a single waking hour.
Between rounds of tempering his draconic constitution, he had spent hours refining his tactile control over the Float-Float Fruit.
Weightlessness was not merely an offensive siege weapon; it was an extension of his will over matter.
A pebble, a warship, or a mountain—once marked by his touch, their gravitational inertia belonged entirely to him.
Yet, as he looked toward the horizon, his thoughts stretched far beyond his current armaments.
‘A throne cannot be sustained by a single blade,’ Arthur mused, resting his hand on the hilt of Oto.
‘If the Round Table is to govern the four seas and cast down the Celestial Dragons, my personal guard and future legions must possess discipline worthy of an empire.
Raw strength without military doctrine is merely organized piracy.’
His transmigration memories provided him with an operational map of this world’s legends, factions, and latent talents.
But Arthur, as a former military commander of the Pendragon lineage, was under no delusion: foreknowledge was a perishable asset.
Every pebble he disturbed—slaying Shiki, seizing Merveille, recruiting Buggy, and altering the East Blue’s balance—sent ripples across the timeline.
The sand in the hourglass was draining; sooner rather than later, the butterfly effect would render his future knowledge obsolete.
He had to secure the irreplaceable cornerstones of his empire now, while his foresight remained absolute.
To mold the recruits he would gather across the Grand Line, two future instructors occupied his strategic planning.
First was “Dark King” Silvers Rayleigh, currently lying low in the lawless shadows of the Sabaody Archipelago.
The former right hand of the Pirate King was arguably the finest living practitioner of all three colors of Haki.
His mastery over Advanced Armament and Conqueror’s Infusion would be indispensable for forging the upper seats of the Round Table.
Second was Chief Marine Instructor Zephyr.
The former Admiral had stepped down from active frontline command after personal tragedy, dedicating himself to drilling the next generation of Marine officers aboard his training cruisers.
Arthur knew the truth the World Government tried to bury: Zephyr’s heart was already bleeding from the corruption of the World Nobles and their cowardly compromises with pirates.
Arthur had no intention of assaulting a Marine vessel.
When the World Government inevitably betrayed Zephyr ideals, Arthur would be waiting to offer the old instructor an empire that enforced true, uncompromising justice.
‘Everything in due time,’ Arthur concluded, his gaze shifting downward as the landmass crossed into the airspace of the Gecko Archipelago.
‘First, the foundation.’
He glanced over his shoulder.
A few dozen paces away, Buggy stood shivering in fresh, pristine naval officer attire, nervously clutching a gilded brass telescope.
Next to him, Makino was tending to a tray of freshly brewed black tea, her demeanor serene and radiant.
The vital nourishment she had received from Arthur had granted her a luminous complexion and tireless endurance, entirely unbothered by the high altitude.
“Buggy,” Arthur’s low, commanding voice cut through the breeze.
Buggy flinched, snapping to attention like a terrified cadet.
“Y-Yes, My Lord!
Standing by at your command!”
“The skiff is prepared,” Arthur said, turning around.
“Down on that island sits an estate overlooking the coast.
A young lady named Kaya resides there.
You will descend, execute her traitorous butler, and deliver my proposal.
Treat her with dignity; she is to be the Chief Medical Officer of this citadel.”
“Understood!
Consider it done, Boss—I mean, My Lord Arthur!” Buggy saluted frantically, eager to prove his worth away from Arthur’s suffocating dragon aura.
With a flick of Arthur’s finger, a light wooden skiff hovered into the air, coated in a shimmering pale-gold gravity aura.
Buggy hopped aboard, and the vessel smoothly plunged through the sea of clouds toward the island below.
Down on the island, inside the grandiose mansion of the late merchant patriarch, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense.
Klahadore—or rather, “Kuro of a Hundred Plans”—stood before the full-length mirror in the second-floor hallway, slowly adjusting his round spectacles with the palms of his hands.
His cold, obsidian eyes narrowed at his reflection.
Over the past forty-eight hours, an inexplicable dread had settled into the marrow of his bones.
News from merchant vessels passing through the northern East Blue had carried wild, fragmented whispers: a fifty-meter serpentine dragon descending from heaven in Orange Town, crushing an entire pirate crew without sustaining a single scratch.
Kuro did not believe in fairy tales, but his instincts—honed by years of cutthroat survival on the Grand Line—were screaming that the East Blue’s tranquil waters were rapidly turning into a boiling cauldron.
‘Three years of playing the subservient dog,’ Kuro thought, his fingers twitching into claw-like shapes.
‘I intended to wait another few weeks to ensure Kaya’s legal will was beyond suspicion.
But this unease…
I cannot afford delays.
Today, the heiress dies of sudden heart failure.
The fortune becomes mine, and I retire into permanent obscurity.’
He turned on his polished heel and walked toward the master bedroom.
In his pocket rested the poisoned vial meant for her evening medicine.
Before he could reach the door handle, however, a sudden gust of wind rattled the large stained-glass window at the end of the corridor.
Crack.
The glass shattered inward in a shower of colorful crystalline shards.
A wooden boat floated weightlessly through the breach, drifting into the hallway before coming to an impossible halt an inch above the carpeted floor.
From the boat stepped a blue-haired man in extravagant clown attire, his hands casually shoved into his pockets.
“Well, well, well,” Buggy sneered, his red nose gleaming under the chandelier light.
“Sneaking around in broad daylight with poison in your coat?
You really are a piece of work, Kuro of the Black Cat Pirates.”
Kuro froze.
His pupils shrank into needlepoints.
‘Buggy the Clown?
Fifteen million bounty…
Why is he here?
How did that boat fly?!’
Kuro’s composure fractured, replaced by sheer, murderous panic.
If a notorious pirate had discovered his true identity, his three-year charade was utterly ruined.
“A clown dares meddle in my business?” Kuro hissed.
In an instant, Kuro’s long, fur-lined coat fell away, revealing his specialized stealth gloves fitted with foot-long Japanese steel blades.
He dropped into a feral crouch, his spectacles glinting coldly.
“Nukiashi (Silent Step)!”
Kuro vanished from sight.
The floorboards didn’t even creak.
A terrifying gale of razor-sharp wind erupted through the corridor as he reappeared directly behind Buggy, executing his dreaded signature technique:
“Shakushi (Death Scoop)!”
Ten gleaming blades slashed through Buggy’s torso, throat, and limbs in a blinding vortex of high-speed strikes.
Shing!
Shing!
Shing!
Kuro slid to a stop ten paces away, adjusting his glasses with the heel of his palm, a sneer curling on his lips.
“Fools who stick their noses into my plans deserve to be carved like cattle.”
“Hey, four-eyes.”
Kuro’s heart nearly stopped.
He spun around in sheer horror.
Buggy was not dead.
In fact, his body was floating apart in five neat horizontal sections.
His severed head hovered in midair, wearing a mocking grin, while his torso, waist, and boots hovered around him like disjointed puzzle pieces.
Not a single drop of blood fell upon the carpet.
“Y-You…
Devil Fruit?!” Kuro stammered, stumbling backward into the wall.
“What kind of monster—”
“Gahahaha!
You idiot!” Buggy’s head cackled, reassembling his torso with a metallic click.
“Blades?
Slicing attacks?
Against the great Captain Buggy’s Bara Bara no Mi?!
You picked the absolute worst opponent in the world to wave cat claws at!”
Before Kuro could trigger his Silent Step again, Buggy’s detached right fist shot forward across the hallway, clutching a spherical, crimson-painted explosive no larger than a plum.
“Lord Arthur ordered your execution.
Die, four-eyes!
Special Miniature Buggy Ball—Point Blank!”
BOOM!
The concentrated blast exploded directly against Kuro’s chest with catastrophic force.
Kuro’s sternum and ribs shattered instantly.
The shockwave blew the captain of the Black Cat Pirates clean through the exterior stone wall of the manor, hurling his mangled body through the air before slamming heavily onto the courtyard flagstones below.
Buggy stood in the smoking breach of the corridor, his detached right fist floating back and snapping cleanly into his wrist.
He blinked, staring down at his smoking hand, and then down at the lifeless body in the courtyard crater.
‘Wait…’ Buggy’s jaw slowly dropped.
‘I…
I actually did it?
I just one-shotted Kuro of a Hundred Plans?!
A sixteen-million-berry captain?!’
A wide, manic grin began spreading across Buggy’s painted face.
His chest puffed out with sudden, intoxicating pride.
‘Gwahahaha!
Working under that dragon monster Arthur is terrifying, but this new artillery formula he’s having me refine…
I really am a genius of destruction!’
Remembering his mission, Buggy quickly coughed, smoothed down his coat, and stepped onto the levitating skiff to descend into the courtyard.
The explosion had shaken the entire estate to its foundations.
Down in the courtyard garden, a long-nosed boy who had been sitting atop a high tree branch—Usopp—tumbled to the grass in sheer terror, his slingshot flying from his grip.
“Wh-What was that?!
An explosion?!” Usopp yelled, scrambling to his feet and looking in horror at the smoking hole in the second floor.
On the ground-floor veranda, a frail, delicate girl in a wheelchair looked out in shock.
Kaya, wrapped in a soft white shawl, stared wide-eyed at the smoke, while her faithful steward, Merry—a man with sheep-like curls—rushed forward with a protective scythe, trembling violently.
“Miss Kaya!
Stay behind me!” Merry stammered.
From the second-floor breach, Buggy floated downward on the levitating skiff, landing gracefully on the stone paving right beside Kuro’s corpse.
Usopp froze, his knees knocking together loudly.
“A-A flying pirate ship?!
Run, Kaya!
It’s a monster!”
“Quiet, long-nosed brat!” Buggy barked.
He walked over to Kuro’s body, casually kicking away the shattered remnants of the steel-clawed gloves, and reached into his coat.
From his pocket, Buggy pulled out a weathered, official Marine bounty poster and snapped it open with a flick of his wrist, holding it directly before Kaya and Merry.
Printed on the paper was a sharp, calculating face that Merry and Kaya knew all too intimately:
WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE
CAPTAIN KURO — “OF A HUNDRED PLANS”
BOUNTY: 16,000,000 BERRIES
MARINE HEADQUARTERS
Merry’s jaw went slack.
His scythe clattered to the stone tiles.
“K-Klahadore…
was a notorious pirate captain with a sixteen-million-berry bounty?!”
Kaya pressed a trembling hand to her pale lips, her breath hitching.
“This…
this cannot be real…”
“Open your eyes, little miss,” Buggy said, his tone turning surprisingly solemn.
“Your beloved butler didn’t wander onto your doorstep three years ago out of charity.
My master, Lord Arthur, sees through every vile scheme across these seas.”
Buggy tossed the poster into Kaya’s lap, crossing his arms.
“Three years ago, your mother and father succumbed to a sudden, mysterious illness that baffled every physician in the archipelago.
Did you truly believe that was natural misfortune?
Kuro poisoned them slowly, drop by drop, paralyzing their organs until they perished!
He kept you alive only because he needed you to reach legal maturity so you could sign the family inheritance over to him.
In his inner coat pocket right now rests the final poison vial—meant for your evening tea!”
Merry dropped to his knees, clutching his face and sobbing in pure, agonized fury.
“The master…
the mistress…
murdered by this viper!
Miss Kaya, he killed your parents!”
Kaya sat frozen in her wheelchair.
Tears spilled from her hazel eyes, tracing hot lines down her pale cheeks.
But beneath the profound grief, a cold, piercing clarity washed through her mind.
The sudden coughing fits, the unexplained decline of her parents, the specialized herbal broths Klahadore had insisted on brewing for them in secret—every horrifying anomaly clicked into place.
She looked down at the dead pirate captain, then looked up at Buggy.
“Who…
who told you this?” Kaya’s voice trembled, but beneath the frailty lay a fragile, steely core.
“Who is your master?”
“My master is Lord Arthur,” Buggy declared proudly, adopting a formal posture.
“He ordered me to execute this traitor, avenge your family, and deliver a formal summons.
Lord Arthur recognizes your innate medical intellect.
He requires a physician under his direct command—one who possesses the intellect and empathy to oversee the health of his future empire.
He has deemed you a medical genius, and he offers to cure your affliction.”
Kaya stared at him, breathless.
“How could a lord of such power know about me?
I have never left this village.
I have barely read through my father’s medical treatises.
Who is Lord Arthur?”
Buggy’s eye twitched slightly.
Beneath his theatrical bravado, an icy shiver rippled through Buggy’s spine.
‘How does he know about her?’ Buggy thought to himself, cold sweat prickling his neck.
‘Hell if I know!
How did that monster know I was on Captain Roger’s ship?!
How did he know about Shanks and the Straw Hat?!
And above all…
how does a human being wield a Mythical Zoan dragon fruit AND old man Shiki’s Float-Float Fruit at the same time?!
Two fruits…
that defies the fundamental laws of nature!’
Buggy swallowed the lump in his throat, keeping his voice carefully grandiose.
“My Lord is an absolute mystery, young lady,” Buggy said.
“He sees through the fabric of the four seas from above the clouds.
Men like him do not guess; they know.
He extends his hand to you not out of pity, but because he acknowledges your true worth.”
Usopp rushed to Kaya’s side, gripping the wheel of her chair.
“Kaya…
Klahadore was a monster, but you can’t just sail away with strange pirates!
You’re sick—you need to rest!”
Kaya looked at Usopp.
Her expression softened with warmth, but her resolve was already unshakeable.
“Usopp…” Kaya whispered softly.
“My parents were murdered under my own roof, and I lay in bed praising their killer.
Without a miracle, I will die of grief and illness within a year or two.
The world outside is vast and cruel, and you have your own brave dream to chase upon the sea.
If a sovereign above the clouds avenged my family and believes I have a destiny as a healer…
I must face him.”
She turned back to Buggy, wiping the tears from her face.
“Sir Buggy.
Please grant me five minutes in private to consider this.”
“Take your time, little miss,” Buggy nodded, stepping back toward his skiff.
“The Lord is patient, but he does not wait for hesitation.”
Kaya wheeled herself back into the quiet sanctuary of the ground-floor parlor.
For five minutes, the mansion was dead silent save for the ticking of the grandfather clock.
Kaya looked at the shelves lined with thick medical volumes—herbology, anatomical sketches, pathology notes she had transcribed by candlelight while coughing blood.
Her parents had given their lives to compile this knowledge.
A man who avenged them without ever meeting her…
a man who commanded floating vessels and saw through the deceit of the world…
‘A sovereign above the clouds,’ Kaya thought, her hands tightening firmly on the armrests.
‘If I stay here, I remain a helpless victim.
If I accept, I step into the unknown…
but I will live, and I will become a physician worthy of his banner.’
Five minutes to the second, the parlor door opened.
Kaya wheeled herself back onto the veranda.
“I have made my decision,” Kaya said, her voice clear and resonant.
“I accept Lord Arthur’s summons.”
Usopp choked up, tears welling in his eyes, but seeing the blazing conviction on his friend’s face, he swallowed his protests and stood tall.
“Kaya…
you better become the greatest doctor in the whole wide world, you hear me?!”
“I will, Usopp.
Thank you for always bringing me joy,” Kaya smiled gently.
Buggy grinned.
“Excellent.
Lord Arthur is waiting for you directly above the clouds.”
Kaya paused, bewildered.
“Above…
the clouds?
But how am I to travel up there?
I have not packed my father’s medical treatises, my research notes, or my tools—”
“Don’t worry about packing,” Buggy interrupted with a smirk, waving his hand dismissively.
“Go back inside the house, little miss.
Take your sheep-headed steward with you, sit on a sturdy sofa, and hold on tight.”
“What?” Kaya blinked in shock.
“Just get inside!” Buggy yelled cheerfully, stepping back into his skiff.
Kaya and the bewildered Merry quickly retreated into the main foyer.
High above, at two thousand meters, Arthur looked down through the parting mist.
His Observation Haki felt Kaya’s resolve click into place like a key turning in an iron lock.
A faint, aristocratic smile touched the corner of his lips.
Arthur raised his right hand and snapped his fingers.
WUUUUUUM—!
A silent, invisible wave of golden telekinetic force surged downward from the clouds, striking the coastal cliff where the mansion stood.
Back on the ground, the earth beneath the estate began to vibrate.
Usopp shrieked as he tumbled backward into the dirt.
“E-EARTHQUAKE?!”
It was no earthquake.
With a deep, resonant groan of groaning rock, the very bedrock beneath the manor cleanly fractured along a perfect square boundary.
Soil, stone, manicured hedges, marble fountains, the entire two-story mansion, and the courtyard were sliced out of the island’s geography as if carved by a divine scalpel!
Rumble—!
“WHAT IS HAPPENING?!” Merry screamed inside the parlor, clutching a mahogany pillar for dear life.
Kaya gripped the armrests of her wheelchair, looking out the massive bay windows in breathless, paralyzed awe.
The village below was shrinking.
The trees, the cliffs, the blue coastline, and the tiny, waving figure of Usopp grew smaller and smaller with every passing heartbeat.
The mansion did not shake; it rose with unnatural, velvet smoothness, punching straight through the humid sea breeze, tearing through the first layer of stratus clouds, and ascending into the golden sunlight of the upper atmosphere.
Within three minutes, the entire estate emerged into the realm above two thousand meters.
Ahead of them, suspended in the sky, lay the legendary floating archipelago of Merveille.
Towering emerald peaks, crystalline waterfalls cascading into open air, and at the center, an imposing obsidian fortress that looked as though it had been carved from the spine of a fallen titan.
With a soft, shudder-less descent, the flying mansion settled seamlessly onto a wide, flat emerald terrace adjacent to the central citadel, locking into the soil as if it had been built there centuries ago.
The front doors of the mansion were gently pushed open by the mountain breeze.
Standing in the sunlight on the marble courtyard steps was Arthur.
Beside him stood Makino, wearing a warm, welcoming smile, with Buggy trailing respectfully behind.
Arthur’s presence was overwhelming.
His broad shoulders, regal posture, and the twin Meito at his hip radiated the majesty of an undisputed king.
Yet, when his golden eyes rested upon Kaya, there was no predatory malice—only the cool, assessing appraisal of an emperor inspecting a treasured addition to his court.
“Welcome to Merveille,” Arthur’s voice was deep, cultured, and perfectly calm.
“I am Arthur Pendragon.”
Kaya sat in her wheelchair, her breath catching.
The sheer grandeur of the man before her eclipsed every noble or merchant she had ever read of.
“Lord…
Arthur,” Kaya whispered, lowering her head with profound gratitude and reverence.
“You…
you avenged my parents.
And you brought my entire home into the sky…”
“A physician should never be separated from her study or her tools,” Arthur replied smoothly, taking a few measured steps forward.
“You agreed to my summons.
In return, I will uphold my end of the covenant: your frail health ends here.”
Arthur paused, allowing the gravity of his words to sink in.
“There are two paths to your recovery, Kaya,” Arthur stated clearly.
“The first is traditional medicine.
We utilize rare medicinal flora cultivated in Merveille’s botanical vaults, paired with strict therapeutic regimens.
It is gentle, safe, and will take six months to completely purge your pulmonary weakness.”
He looked directly into her eyes, his golden irises faintly shimmering with the crimson glow of the dragon core within his chest.
“The second path is direct draconic vitality nourishment.
My bloodline carries the primordial essence of an Imperial Dragon.
Through controlled vital infusion, my vitality will forcefully cleanse your marrow, rebuild your damaged cellular pathways, and grant you an enduring, robust constitution within forty-eight hours.
It is intense, but absolute.”
Arthur folded his arms, giving her an aristocratic nod.
“We are currently cruising toward the sea restaurant, Baratie.
The journey will take two days.
I give you those forty-eight hours to think, consult your books, and decide which treatment you desire.”
Kaya looked up at Arthur, feeling the radiant warmth emanating from his figure.
For the first time in three years, the cold dread in her chest felt entirely powerless.
“Thank you, Lord Arthur,” Kaya said with a deep, reverent bow.
“I will not waste your grace.”
SLAM!
A thick intelligence dossier slammed onto the mahogany desk of Fleet Admiral Sengoku in Marineford.
The room was quiet, save for the ticking of the wall clock and the steady crunch of rice crackers being eaten by Vice Admiral Garp on the adjacent sofa.
Standing before the desk was Commodore Brannew, his forehead drenched in cold sweat as he pointed to two separate surveillance sketches on the chalkboard.
“Fleet Admiral Sengoku!
We have received urgent emergency reports from two separate sectors of the East Blue within the last forty-eight hours!” Brannew reported loudly.
“Speak,” Sengoku said, his eyes narrowing beneath his seagull cap.
“Two days ago, Marine scouts and civilian lookouts in Orange Town reported a colossal serpentine beast—a dragon measuring at least fifty to sixty meters in length, armored in crimson and gold scales—descending from the clouds!
It annihilated the Buggy Pirates without resistance before vanishing back into the sky!”
Garp stopped chewing his rice crackers for half a second, picking his ear nonchalantly.
“A dragon in the East Blue?
Bah, lookouts drinking too much rum again.”
“It is not a hallucination, Vice Admiral Garp!” Brannew wiped his brow frantically.
“Because just four hours ago, a garrison report from the Gecko Islands confirmed that the entire multi-acre estate of the merchant family in Syrup Village was physically ripped from the earth and levitated into the clouds before vanishing toward the west!”
Sengoku’s eyes widened.
He slowly leaned forward, his hands clasped tightly on the desk.
“Levitated…
an entire mansion?” Sengoku’s voice dropped into a dangerous, icy register.
“Yes, sir!
The ground was cleanly sheared, and lookouts watched the structure ascend into the stratosphere!”
The office fell dead silent.
Even Garp stopped eating, his sharp eyes narrowing beneath his gray eyebrows.
“Levitating islands and buildings…
There’s only one bastard in history who did that.”
“Golden Lion Shiki,” Sengoku muttered, his knuckles turning white.
“Three months ago, Shiki’s Vivre card in Impel Down burned out completely.
We confirmed his death on Merveille.”
Sengoku stood up, pacing behind his desk, his mind racing through every canon law of the world.
“The rule of the sea is absolute,” Sengoku said grimly.
“No human being can consume two Devil Fruits.
It is an immutable biological law—the two devils tear the soul apart, resulting in instantaneous death.”
Brannew blinked.
“Sir?
Then what does this mean?”
“It means,” Sengoku said, staring intently at the map of the East Blue, “that when Shiki died, his Fuwa Fuwa no Mi immediately reincarnated somewhere in the world.
And an unknown, terrifyingly capable individual has already claimed it.”
Sengoku pointed at the two sketches.
“First, an uncatalogued Mythical Zoan dragon fruit user appears in Orange Town.
Now, Shiki’s Float-Float Fruit appears in Syrup Village, lifting entire properties into the sky.
This is not a coincidence.”
Sengoku’s gaze darkened with strategic gravity.
“A powerful, clandestine faction is operating in the East Blue.
They are actively hunting and gathering high-tier Devil Fruit users while staying completely under our radar.
We do not have a name, a flag, or a bounty for their leader.”
Sengoku turned to Brannew.
“Alert the Marine branches near the Baratie and the Conomi Islands.
If another anomaly occurs in the East Blue skies…
I want an Admiral mobilized immediately.”
High above the clouds, unaware and uncaring of Marineford’s panic, the floating continent of Merveille continued its steady, sovereign voyage toward the open sea.
[Status Panel]Name: Arthur PendragonAge: 22 | Height: 2.00 m | Origin: Great Britain / Pendragon LineageBase of Operations: Merveille (Cruising at 2,000m toward Baratie)Tier: Early Admiral Class | Rank: Great Swordsman (Daikengou)
Devil Fruits:Core 1: Ryu Ryu no Mi, Model: Imperial Pendragon (Zoan, 75% Mastery)Core 2: Fuwa Fuwa no Mi (Paramecia, 50% Mastery)Core 3: [Locked — Target: Undisclosed]Haki:Armament Haki: Advanced (Internal Destruction)Observation Haki: Advanced (Incomplete Future Sight: 1–2s)Conqueror’s Haki: Advanced (Conqueror’s Infusion / Coating)
Weapons: Twin Meito Oto and Kogarashi (Supreme Grade Swordsmanship)
Retainers & Assets:Makino: Lady of the Citadel (Logistics & Vitality Cleansed)Buggy: 12th Seat of the Round Table (Artillery / Logistics)Kaya: Chief Medical Officer Nominee (Under 48-Hour Deliberation)Merry: Household Steward (Managing Relocated Estate)Citadel Vault: Smilodon Fruit, Iron-Iron Fruit, Shock-Shock Fruit, Captain John’s Treasure Map, Buggy Ball Formula, Roger’s Navigation Notes.