Chapter 218: Franky Opens a Jar
"Of course. Who hasn't heard of the extraordinary genius working in Tom's shipyard at Water Seven? A talent that comes along maybe once in a century, they say." Amon kept his expression perfectly sincere. Flattery was free, and a well-placed compliment could do things that money couldn't. "Franky, the prodigy."
Flattery landed exactly where it was aimed.
"Ehehe, that's right, that's exactly right!" Franky's grin spread across his face like a crack in a dam, wide and slightly lopsided, everything behind it flooding forward at once. He raised both hands in that particular pose of his and looked out at no one in particular. "Franky, the super genius of Tom's Workers! This week is turning out super!"
It had clearly been a while since anyone had said anything like this to him.
Amon watched the display with amusement. The senior apprentice, Iceberg, got most of the recognition in Water Seven. Franky had grown up in the shadow of that comparison, and the hunger for acknowledgment was sitting right at the surface, barely covered.
Young people were always the easiest to work with.
"Speaking of which," Amon said smoothly, before the moment could drift, "why don't you come aboard and have a look around? I have things on this ship worth seeing. Normally I wouldn't mention it to just anyone, but given that you're a genuine shipwright of your caliber, it would be a shame to sail past without showing you."
Franky tilted his head and peered at Amon's ship from where he stood, suspicion and curiosity fighting for the same space on his face. "What's there to see on a ship that size?"
"Come aboard and find out. I promise it'll surprise you. Your senior apprentice could beg me for an invitation and I still wouldn't give him one."
"...Fine."
It didn't take much more than that. Franky climbed aboard, still working to maintain the air of a man who was doing someone a favor by agreeing, and the moment his feet touched the deck that act began to fall apart.
"This ship is different," he said, without intending to say it out loud.
He stood still for a moment and let his body register the information. A ship this size should move. There should be a roll underfoot, a constant low negotiation with the water below. There was nothing. The ship sat like it was anchored to solid ground, stable in a way that had nothing to do with anchor lines or weather. And the interior space, which from the outside had looked proportional, was something else entirely once you were inside it.
"What kind of spatial construction is this?" He was already moving, studying the walls and joints and structural angles. "I've never seen anything like this."
Robin quietly watched him from across the deck. Amon seemed to know exactly who Franky was, the same way he had seemed to know exactly who Chopper was. She was finding it harder and harder to explain.
"So," Amon said, coming to stand beside the fascinated shipwright. "Impressive, isn't it? The design came from a blueprint I pulled out of one of my jars."
Franky turned.
"From a jar?"
"That's right." Amon set the collection out on the nearby table. "Blueprint for this ship, right here out of one of these. I've also pulled armor schematics, navigational instruments, weapon designs. All sorts of things."
"You're telling me blueprints come out of those jars." Franky stared at the jars, then at Amon, then at the ship around him, performing the mental calculation of whether what he was being told was consistent with what he was currently standing inside.
The ship argued in favor of Amon's story.
"Blueprint quality that produces a ship like this one, yes," Amon said. "Hundred thousand berries a jar. Normally they're a million each, but I'll extend a professional discount to someone of your expertise." He leaned forward slightly. "Think about what you could bring back to your master. You might get a blueprint he's never seen. A design that doesn't exist anywhere else. Your senior apprentice brings him competence. You'd be bringing him something extraordinary."
The senior apprentice mention landed with precision.
Franky's eyes narrowed, then went wide, then narrowed again. "There's armor schematics too?"
"Schematics, components, materials. I had a full reinforced battle-frame design come out of one not long ago."
"Super..." The word came out soft and involuntary.
"Hundred thousand berries," Amon said. "You won't lose a thing at that price, and you stand to gain more than I can promise."
"I'll take one." Franky said it before the sentence was finished. He was already turning back toward his ship. "Wait right there. I don't have the berries on me, I'll be back in a minute."
He was across the gap and on the Franky Battle before Amon could say anything else, and returned shortly afterward carrying a chest that was considerably larger than the situation strictly required.
"Is this enough?"
Amon looked at the chest. Several million berries' worth of jewels and coin, minimum. He did not allow his expression to change.
"More than enough."
"Great. So how many can I pick?"
Amon blinked.
Franky had his arms crossed and was already eyeing the collection with the look of someone who had come prepared to negotiate in volume. This was not a purchase. This was an acquisition strategy.
He was impressed, against his better judgment.
"One," Amon said.
Franky's arms dropped slightly.
"The policy is one per customer. Always." He kept his voice pleasant. "I don't make exceptions, even for prodigies."
The jars operated on a rule, and the rule existed for reasons. If he started selling multiples, the whole system unraveled, and more importantly, it wouldn't be fair to anyone else who had only gotten one.