Summoner in One Piece

The merchant vessel, its sails billowing, finally cut through the waves, its hull creaking in protest as it glided into Virelio Port. Alex stood at the railing, the sea wind whipping his long coat, his gaze sweeping over the unique, plus-shaped island. A week of quiet passage from Loguetown, discreetly protecting their temporary transport, had been uneventful in terms of conflict, but rich in information. Whispers from other traders, gleaned maps, and overheard conversations had painted a detailed picture of this peculiar hub.

"So, this is it," Ace murmured beside him, stretching his arms high above his head. "Looks... busy."

"Beyond busy, Ace," Olvia replied, adjusting her glasses, her eyes already dissecting the intricate layout. "This island is shaped like a plus sign. Each quadrant has a distinct purpose, a specialized role in its economy and power structure. It's a marvel of logistical design, if nothing else."

Alex nodded, his internal thoughts aligning with Olvia's observation. The intel was solid. This isn't just a port; it's a living organism. "The North Sector," he began, pointing towards a dense cluster of masts and towering buildings, "that's the Trade & Commerce District. Pure economic activity. Merchant ships, guild halls, warehouses. Everything flows through there." His gaze shifted, following the coastline. "To the South, the Shipbuilding Quarter. Drydocks, forges, the clang of hammers. Eldracia's shipwrights are renowned across the East Blue. They maintain over 40% of the Marine fleet here."

Erza, ever practical, crossed her arms, her eyes narrowed in assessment. "And the East?"

"The Residential & Noble Ward," Alex continued, a hint of disdain in his voice. "Opulent mansions, manicured gardens, guarded gates. Home to Eldracia's elite. Politically untouchable. Decisions made there ripple across the entire island, and beyond. Marines don't dare step foot without royal permission, unless their property is directly attacked – a foolish endeavor, given Eldracia's standing."

"So, the World Government turns a blind eye to a sovereign kingdom's rules, even on a Marine-critical island?" Tsunade mused, a knowing smirk on her face. "How... convenient."

"Precisely," Alex confirmed, a faint smirk mirroring hers. "Eldracia's strategic importance in shipbuilding is too high. Disrupting it would cripple Marine mobility and logistics. So, local commanders are... quietly compensated. They use the West Sector as their intelligence goldmine instead."

He turned, gesturing towards the final quadrant, a haze of perpetual smoke hanging over it. "And that brings us to the West Sector – the Shroud Quarter. The black market. Narrow alleys, flickering lanterns, smugglers, fugitives. Lawless, yet ironically, highly organized. Elite private enforcers, funded by those very nobles in the East, keep a brutal peace. It's where reputations are made and fortunes lost. And for us, a treasure trove of rare opportunities." A place where the rules bend, where the System can truly shine.

Armed with critical knowledge of Virelio's political dynamics and having secured several discreet contacts during their week-long voyage, the crew wasted no time establishing a base of operations. Thanks to those connections, they'd managed to acquire quality goods at cutthroat prices even before docking. Their first move upon arrival was to settle into a quiet, inconspicuous inn—perfect for laying low while gathering more intel.

"Alright, everyone," Alex stated once they were settled in their common room, the scent of aged wood and stale ale clinging to the air. "Exploration is top priority. We need to understand the pulse of this place. Its true strengths, its hidden weaknesses." He looked at Tsunade, his eyes serious. "Tsunade, I need you to dispatch shadow clones across the East, West, and South Sectors. Simultaneous intel collection. Don't engage, just observe and report. We need eyes and ears everywhere."

Tsunade grinned, cracking her knuckles with a satisfying pop. "Consider it done, Alex. My clones are masters of discretion. They'll be ghosts in the crowd." With a series of quick hand signs, a dozen perfect replicas shimmered into existence, each identical to the original, then melted away into the bustling port, their chakra signatures barely a ripple. This will save us days of legwork, she thought, already anticipating the data.

"Erza, Olvia, you're with me," Alex continued, rising from his seat. "North Sector first. Trade and commerce. We're looking for anything unusual – rare materials, exotic weapons, anything that can aid our long-term ambitions. Keep Happy and Acroflare concealed."

The North Sector was a dizzying tapestry of sights and sounds. The air vibrated with the chatter of merchants hawking their wares, the rhythmic creak of cargo cranes, and the distant shouts of dockworkers. Spices mingled with the sharp scent of fresh timber and salt, a sensory overload.

Alex, his long coat subtly concealing Happy and Acroflare (who remained perfectly still, a silent, almost imperceptible presence beneath the fabric, their forms minimized by Alex's System), moved through the bustling marketplaces. His eyes, sharp and analytical, scanned every stall, every crate, every transaction. He wasn't just looking at goods; he was looking for potential. This place is a hub. If there are unique resources, materials that can be refined, or technologies that can be adapted, they'll be here. The System is quiet, but the opportunities are screaming.

Olvia, a calculating glint in her eyes, drifted through merchant stalls like a ghost, her mind a whirlwind of numbers. She picked up a small, intricately carved wooden bird, examining its craftsmanship with an expert eye. "Alex," she murmured, returning to Alex's side, her voice low enough to be lost in the market's din. "These prices... they're absurd. This particular wood, for example, is common in Tonryuu. They're selling it here at a 400% markup." Her mind was already racing, calculating the massive profit margins possible through inter-world trade. A goldmine, if we play this right. It's almost insulting how inefficient their market is.

Erza, meanwhile, gravitated towards the weapon vendors, her expression cold and calculating, a stark contrast to the boisterous haggling around her. She picked up a heavy broadsword, testing its balance, running a thumb over the quality of its steel, noting the subtle rune inscriptions on its hilt. She swung it once, a silent, powerful arc that made the air hum. "Adequate," she muttered to the bewildered vendor, dropping it back onto the rack with a soft clang. She wasn't here to browse; she was looking for potential upgrades for their forces, for the raw materials of true power, for anything that could augment their combat capabilities.

As the day wore on, Tsunade's clones began to return, one by one, merging back into her with flashes of light and transferred memories. One clone, specifically from the West Sector, reported a discovery that piqued Alex's interest. "Lady Tsunade," the clone's memory echoed in Tsunade's mind, "found a cluster of specialty gear shops. Tools nearly tailor-made for ninjas. Shuriken, kunai, smoke bombs of exceptional quality. Impossible to find outside of a black market like this. The craftsmanship was... surprisingly high." Tsunade relayed the information to Alex, a knowing look passing between them. Useful for infiltration, for distraction, for general utility. A good find.

Later, Alex found himself drawn to the raw materials depot of the North Sector. Piles of treated timber, gleaming sheets of steel, bundles of reinforced sailcloth lay stacked high, awaiting shipment. He ran his hand over the polished hull of an unfinished schooner, the smooth wood cool beneath his fingers. His eyes gleamed with ambition, a grand vision forming in his mind. A grand vessel, he thought, perhaps even a Man-O'-War. Something truly capable of traversing the Grand Line's extremes, a mobile fortress. Ambitious, yes. Beyond reach for now… but not forever. The resources are here.

By day's end, after careful deliberation and calculated purchases, the group secured several key acquisitions. They had debated each item, weighing its immediate utility against its long-term strategic value.

"The Den Den Mushi are essential," Olvia stated, holding up a small, snail-like device that chirped softly. "Long-range communication and coordination. Indispensable for any serious operation, especially with our expanding reach."

"And these," Erza added, unsheathing a pair of exquisitely crafted twin curved sabers. Their gem-inlaid hilts glinted with promise, the blades humming faintly. "High quality. Perfect for a future ally, or as high-value trade leverage if we need it."

They also acquired bundles of compact throwing knives, perfect for stealth combat and utility across various crew members' fighting styles. They'd found excellent raw materials for shipbuilding—treated lumber, reinforced keel frames, enchanted rivets—but chose to hold off on heavy purchases. "No sense in wasting coin on mismatched components," Alex had reasoned. "We need the dream ship's design, tonnage, and scale finalized first. We build it once, and we build it right."

But their biggest win came not from buying... but from selling.

In a stroke of genius, one of Tsunade's transformed clones, disguised as a native merchant in flowing robes and a wide-brimmed hat, had infiltrated the North Sector with crates of premium Tonryuu alcohol. The operation was swift and surgical. By the time curious vendors realized the superior quality of the stock, word had already spread like wildfire—and buyers rushed in, eager to get their hands on the rare, potent spirits.

The prices soared. The clone, her eyes twinkling with amusement behind her disguise, sold in bulk, creating a frenzy. The moment the market started to tip toward saturation, the clone vanished into the crowd, leaving behind a bewildered trail of eager, yet now disappointed, buyers.

Olvia's eyes sparkled like freshly minted coins as she double-checked the stacks of Beli they'd earned, her fingers flying over the numbers.

"Alex," she said, unable to hide her excitement, a wide, genuine smile on her face. "With this… this buggy trick of Tsunade's, we've made a killing! This haul is enough to fund five ships—with full outfitting and crew wages included! And that's conservative!"

Alex gave her a sideways smirk, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "Let's start with one, yeah?"

Olvia chuckled, already imagining the ripple effect their sudden, massive drop of premium alcohol would have on the local market. Prices would tank, suppliers would panic, and the local merchants? Most wouldn't even know what hit them, only that their profits had suddenly evaporated.