One Piece: Ero Saiyan

The veteran gamblers who frequented this place knew exactly what was going on. But the newcomers—especially the women who had just sent invitations Peter's way—hid quiet frustration and cast jealous glances at Robin's back.

Yet, once they compared their looks and features to the majestic beauty before them, their confidence visibly shrank. Most of them slipped away in silence and shame.

Only a few with inflated self-esteem remained, including a girl with short purple hair and a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Hmph, so this mighty newcomer's just a pervert after all... That makes things a lot easier."

...

Their outing wasn't just a casual dinner stroll.

It had been a while since Peter had handed the task of developing "Happy Street" over to Mikita.

While the new district still fell short of the real Happy Street's standards, Mikita had succeeded in gathering a decent number of "talents," and the venue had officially opened to the public.

This time, Peter came in person to inspect his new project—and tend to some private business.

"Welcome to the Lovers' Massage and Bath Club! Right this way, gentlemen~"

As soon as they entered the main hall, two rows of staff lined up on either side—twenty in each row—dressed in dazzling and diverse outfits.

But rather than being impressed, Peter's expression twisted with visible disgust. He clearly found the club's name, chosen by Mikita, laughable and devoid of character.

"'Lovers' Massage and Bath Club'? What kind of weak, tasteless name is that?! No flair, no charm—not even a clear meaning!"

He shouted, annoyed, "Where's the manager? Bring her here—now!"

Peter's name was well-known throughout Rheinland, and none of the reception staff dared to defy him. One immediately rushed inside to alert Mikita, who came out in a fluster.

She had no idea what was going on, but the moment she laid eyes on Peter, she beamed and rushed to wrap herself around his other arm.

"My dear boss! If you needed anything, I could've sent someone directly to you! There was no need for you to come yourself."

Then she smiled sweetly, trying to guide him inside:

"But since you're here, why don't I introduce you formally to all the staff? You are the real boss, after all!"

Peter was on the verge of exploding in anger—but suddenly held back. The idea did seem reasonable.

"Hmph... fine. Let's take a look first."

Beside him, Robin leaned against his other arm, rolling her eyes in boredom, resting her head on his shoulder like she'd grown tired of the whole scene.

The three of them made their way to the club's largest private room. After Mikita got everything in order, Peter sat down on the couch, a girl in each arm, and grumbled:

"The decor's fine, but what's with the name? I asked you to build a pleasure street, not a therapy spa!"

Mikita laughed as she spun around and sat on his lap:

"Boss, names are just a front! The club's name is a cover. If we put something too explicit, people would hesitate to come. But something vague like this gives them a polite excuse to walk in without shame!"

Peter pondered for a moment, rubbing his chin. "You might have a point... In my past life, I used to avoid places like this out of embarrassment. Maybe if it had said 'Massage Center' out front, I'd have walked in proudly."

He coughed awkwardly to hide his fluster, then turned to the door, waiting to see what kind of surprises the staff would bring.

The employees filed in one by one—some elegant, some sweet, some mature, some seductive—each presenting themselves before Peter.

They were all attractive in their own right, clearly handpicked for their looks. But to Peter, now accustomed to exotic beauty, they felt like reheated dishes—decent, but lacking flavor.

With each batch dismissed, hope waned a little more, and Peter began telling himself: "The place is still new... the best is yet to come."

Then suddenly, a girl with short purple hair stepped in.

"You—stay. The rest can leave."

Peter pointed at her confidently, his expression shifting into one of piqued interest.

The girl looked nervous. Her eyes sparkled with unease, darting around anxiously, avoiding his gaze.

"B-Boss, Manager…" she said softly, bowing to both of them.

Mikita eyed her suspiciously, while Peter's eyes scanned her from head to toe without restraint.

She wore a bold black dress that barely covered anything. Her ample chest and a prominent scar were on full display. The lower half of her outfit revealed most of her legs—if Peter tilted his head just slightly, he'd have an unobstructed view of everything beneath.

Her short purple hair, black high heels, and crimson velvet shawl gave her the appearance of royalty attending a grand gala, not some club hostess.

Peter whispered to himself, "She... doesn't belong in a place like this."

But deep in her eyes, behind the mask of shyness, he caught a glint—one that he would later recognize for what it truly was.

In reality, Carina was laughing triumphantly to herself.

"Haha... the plan worked! Now I just need to earn his trust. Once he's completely obsessed with me, I'll steal everything he owns."

But even in her quiet moment of pride, she couldn't help but feel uneasy about the two beauties flanking Peter, especially the tan-skinned girl on his left.

"She looks like me, but her eyes are sharp. The way she watches him... she's going to be the hardest one to deal with."