Morning light spilled over the harbor. After two months of reconstruction, the once war-torn land now pulsed with renewed vitality.
Nestled at the foot of a forested hill, the newly established orphan camp stood hidden amidst dense greenery, secluded and quiet.
In the training grounds, children swung wooden swords at logs or struck sandbags with bare fists. Though their clothes were plain, each pair of eyes shimmered with unyielding determination.
From a nearby platform, Barron stood watching in silence. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of the sword at his waist as he observed the children's performance.
"Young Master," Eric's voice came from behind. He walked up quickly to Barron's side, a flicker of excitement on his face.
"We've taken in forty-seven children so far, most of them orphans native to this island. Though many are still quite young, their potential is promising."
Barron gave a small nod, his gaze falling on a boy at the center of the training field, furiously slashing his wooden blade.
"Who is he?" Barron asked.
"Cass," Eric replied. "Fourteen years old, the first to sign up. His parents were fishermen, killed by Rugo's men. When he heard we had taken Rugo down, he came running to join. During training, he pushes himself to the brink every time."
Barron nodded slightly.
"Good. Put him on the list for priority training." His tone was flat, but a trace of approval flickered in his eyes.
Eric hesitated for a moment, then added, "There's someone else I think you'll find interesting."
"Oh?" Barron raised an eyebrow.
Eric pointed toward another boy in the crowd.
He was slim, with messy golden hair and tanned skin from long days in the sun. Standing alone, he stared at his hands as if deep in thought.
"His name is Bellamy, fifteen. You might remember—after your battle with Rugo, he came to the council chamber asking to join the orphan camp."
The memory came back to Barron. That day, Bellamy had stood at the chamber's doorway, eyes filled with a complicated mix of awe and apprehension.
"He said he admired you and wanted to follow you. But the most interesting part," Eric continued, "is that he accidentally ate a Devil Fruit when he was a child—the Spring-Spring Fruit, from the Paramecia class."
Barron's eyes widened slightly, his gaze sharpening on Bellamy.
"The Spring-Spring Fruit?"
"Yes. He ate it without knowing what it was. His arm turned into a spring, but no one could explain it to him.
Fearing people would see him as a monster, he kept it a secret all these years. It wasn't until after Rugo's fall and he learned about Devil Fruits that he realized what it was.
We've recently begun training him, and it turns out the fruit's abilities are quite strong."
Barron nodded, the pieces falling into place. So this was that Bellamy—the one who once idolized Doflamingo. Now, he had become one of his own. A curious twist of fate.
This was the first character from the original story he had encountered.
In canon, even without formal training, Bellamy had reached a level on par with a mid-tier Rear Admiral. With proper guidance now, there was potential for him to go far beyond that.
With that thought, Barron stepped down from the platform and walked toward Bellamy.
Bellamy sat with his head down, rubbing his hands against his knees. Anxiety churned in his chest. He wasn't sure if he could handle the orphan camp's training—much less earn Barron's approval.
Black boots stopped in front of him. Bellamy looked up and met a pair of deep grey eyes.
"Bellamy, is it?" Barron's voice was low and calm.
"Y-Yes, Young Master!" Bellamy shot up and stood straight, answering nervously.
"I heard you've eaten a Devil Fruit. Why didn't you ever use your power?"
Bellamy scratched his head awkwardly. "I… ate it by accident as a kid. My arm turned into a spring once, but I didn't know what it meant. No one did. I was scared people would think I was a freak, so I kept it to myself."
Barron studied him in silence for a moment, then said seriously, "Are you willing to serve me? From this moment on, your power no longer belongs to you—it belongs to me."
A flicker of light shone in Bellamy's eyes. He nodded firmly.
"I am! From today onward, I'll do everything I can for you, Young Master!"
Barron reached out and gave his shoulder a pat, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
"Good. I'll have Eric train you personally on how to use your ability. Once you master it, you might just become a valuable asset to us."
Bellamy straightened even more, the tension in his face gradually replaced by growing confidence.
That night, Barron gathered Kane, Hall, and Eric to plan the next phase for the orphan camp.
"Their potential is greater than we expected," Barron said, pointing to the camp marked on the map. "Starting tomorrow, we'll implement a more structured training system—physical conditioning, combat techniques, survival skills."
Hall raised an eyebrow. "How are you planning to allocate resources? We can't train all of them intensively."
Barron nodded. "A few of them have already shown early signs of promise—Cass and Bellamy, for instance.
They'll receive higher-intensity training. The rest will undergo basic training in shifts. We need to make sure each one of them becomes useful to us."
Cain adjusted his hat and said coolly, "The orphan camp is a solid idea—but don't forget, the Blackfin Alliance won't stay quiet for long. Maybe we should send scouts to check on Graham Island's activity."
Barron's eyes darkened slightly. He spoke in a low voice, "Not yet. We'll get there. But first, we'll take control of two nearby remote islands.
One, to test our growing strength. And two, to speed up our expansion. If we went to Graham Island now, we'd be swallowed whole."
"Yes, Young Master!" the three men responded in unison.
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