One Piece: Investing In Whitebeard At The Start.

This was a kind of intuition. Even without using Observation Haki, Vane could sense movement outside. It wasn't about hearing anything—there was no sound at all—yet someone was definitely approaching.

The hotel was silent.

Vane could feel it. Whoever was coming was here for him.

As soon as he activated his Haki, he knew who it was—Kalifa.

It was her.

The clock struck eleven at night.

Vane's room was dim, lit only by moonlight spilling in from the open window.

The door was locked, but for an experienced spy, picking a lock was child's play.

Two minutes later, the door clicked open. Someone slipped inside and quietly shut it again.

Lying in bed under a quilt, Vane sneered in the dark. Everything was going according to plan.

These days, he handled everything himself—navigating, cooking—he really could use a cook. She'd do.

Besides, this woman was skilled in Rokushiki. With proper development, she could become a formidable ally.

Kalifa wore black—standard spy gear. A sharp contrast: men in suits, women in provocative outfits.

Vane remained still under the covers, eyes shut, breathing slow. No mask, no disguise. Just stillness.

As Kalifa drew closer, the moonlight revealed his face.

Her eyes widened in shock.

"No way…"

She clasped a hand over her mouth, stunned.

She couldn't believe it—the infamous boy who killed two Celestial Dragons, the one currently at the top of the World Government's watchlist—was right in front of her!

"I didn't expect it to be him! If I capture him… I'll be promoted! The World Government will finally notice me!"

"He's actually asleep... This is my chance!"

That's what she believed.

But Vane wasn't sleeping. He was waiting.

"If only I had rope—or better yet, Seastone cuffs!"

"They say he has a Paramecia-type explosive fruit and all three types of Haki. No wonder I couldn't beat him earlier…"

"Three types of Haki… more dangerous than even Rob Lucci. And only fifteen years old?"

"At that age, with strength equal to Rob Lucci? Can that be real?"

"How do I even catch him? If I can't restrain him, he'll just escape!"

While Kalifa wrestled with the problem, Vane moved. Too fast to react, he suddenly sprang up and drove a powerful punch into her stomach.

"Ugh—!"

Pain exploded through her abdomen. She nearly fainted, her body folding over as she stumbled backward, legs unsteady.

"You… how…?"

"Trying to capture me, Kalifa? CP9 agent."

Vane chuckled darkly, his smile like that of a devil.

"CP9? Impossible. How do you know that?!"

Kalifa was stunned. Their identities were a tightly held secret—even in death, they weren't supposed to be revealed.

Vane grinned. "I also told Iceburg that several CP9 members were embedded around him. The World Government sent you for the blueprints to Pluton, didn't they?"

He stepped toward her. She instinctively backed away. Her head still spun. How had he seen through everything?

Exposure meant mission failure. And failure for CP9 agents often meant quiet execution. Maybe Lucci would survive thanks to his strength—but the rest? Not likely.

She kept retreating until her back hit the corner. Now she was trapped, helpless.

A lamb before the slaughter.

And he was the butcher. The Celestial Dragons were nothing in his eyes.

"Kalifa," Vane said coldly, "your plan failed. I made a deal with Iceburg. I also loathe the World Government. Under the Celestial Dragons, it's become corrupt. It needs to fall, and something new should rise in its place."

He stopped in front of her. Kalifa trembled, the pain still flaring in her gut. His punch had been merciless.

"Don't worry," Vane said with a strangely warm smile. "I'm not going to hit you again."

That smile… it was unsettling. Like spring sunshine masking winter frost.

He gently placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her closer.

Kalifa was dazed. She'd been pursued before—her beauty made her a target—but she couldn't tell what Vane was planning.

"You're no match for me. Neither is Rob Lucci," Vane said calmly.

She had dropped her guard.

His right hand clenched, and another punch drove into her stomach. The double impact nearly made her black out.

"I just want to leave you with a memory," he said softly. "You weren't exactly kind to me."

That smile of his—like a demon's.

"Damn it…"

Kalifa tried to resist, but another blow sent her crumpling.

"I don't pity pretty faces," Vane muttered. "Beauty fades."

After three punches, she finally collapsed, unconscious.

Vane grabbed a thick coil of rope, tied her tightly, and sealed her mouth with transparent tape.

Once CP9 was dealt with, he'd release her. Or not. Whether she boarded his ship or went to hell, he didn't care.

Vane didn't believe in sentiment. He didn't worship beauty. He just did what needed to be done.

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