Angel investor in the One Piece world

In the year 1519 of the Sea Calendar, in the East China Sea, the town of Rogge was shrouded in a salty, damp sea breeze.

The midday sun compressed the shadows cast by the Gothic spires into a thin line on the ground.

Outside the Moretti Bank, the crowd gathered on the marble steps seemed oblivious to the heat, their palms, clutching their passbooks, were drenched in cold sweat.

The shouts that rose and fell wove an invisible web of panic across the square.

At the bank's main entrance, uniformed bank staff were desperately trying to maintain order with megaphones, but they were struggling to cope with the overwhelming crowd.

No wonder the public is so impatient.

The Moretti Bank run began with a fatal accident—a sudden sea storm that took the life of its president, Jonathan.

Then, deadly rumors began to circulate wildly in the town: the banker's huge overseas investment funds had disappeared with the shipwreck, causing the bank's reserves to be completely depleted.

At first, only a few depositors lingered at the bank entrance, but soon, the crowd began to surge.

Housewives carrying children squeezed into the business hall, merchants anxiously banged on the counter glass, and the elderly pressed their crumpled deposit slips against the counter glass.

Despite repeated clarifications from the bank that the rumors were untrue, every depositor who withdrew their money became a new source of panic.

As crowds piled up like waves outside the bank, this multi-generational financial institution was caught in a self-fulfilling prophecy—the more people feared the bank's collapse, the more likely the bank run would turn the rumors into reality.

Even so, Moretti Bank did not refuse people's requests to withdraw money. In order to prevent riots, it even allowed people to withdraw their fixed deposits in advance.

There were just too many people, and the bank's few teller counters were simply not enough.

In this situation, people's impatience continues to grow.

On the third floor of the bank building, Moretti Damian stood by the window, calmly looking down at the restless people outside the bank's doors.

He was a very handsome young man with well-defined features, fair skin, and a tall, upright figure. He was impeccably dressed in a suit and tie, wearing a brown fur coat, and every strand of his hair was meticulously styled.

Damian is only twenty years old and is the only son of the deceased president, Jonathan. After hastily holding a funeral for his father, he has now officially taken over as president of the bank.

Behind him stood a robust man with graying temples, his voice deep, "If things continue like this, even if we have enough funds, it won't be easy to get depositors to put the money back in. The other two banks will definitely raise interest rates to attract depositors, young master. This matter is definitely related to them."

Although Loguetown is a hub leading to the entrance to the Grand Line and the birthplace and death place of the Pirate King, making it famous on the sea, the town is actually not very large, with a permanent population of just over 500,000.

Yet, in this small town of Rogge, there are three private banks.

Because the number of depositors is limited, the open and covert struggles between them have been going on for many years.

"Preserving their reputation is their top priority; I'm actually more curious why they don't use a more direct approach."

The young man's clear voice carried a chilling undertone, "How about you just blow me into the sky with a bomb, Uncle Tyrone?"

Just as Tyrone, the middle-aged butler of the Moretti family, was about to speak, the commotion downstairs suddenly intensified.

A dozen or so thugs with tattoos covering their necks tore through the gap like a swarm of sharks, escorting a large man closer.

The burly man leading the group, whose three-meter-tall frame nearly burst through his faded sailor uniform, his rusty machete scraping sparks from the ground, forced his way to the door, grabbed a bank employee who was maintaining order by the neck and lifted him up, causing the onlookers to erupt in terrified screams.

"Everyone's here to withdraw money, am I the only one here to borrow money?"

The man grinned, revealing a set of yellowed teeth. "Heh heh, then lend me a billion Berries!"

He glanced around at the pale-faced bank employees and sneered, "Since you have so much money in your vaults that you can't spend it all, how about I help you share the burden?"

Tyrone carefully examined the group and recalled, "They're a bunch of thugs who came to Loguetown recently. The leader calls himself Bloodblade Johnny; looks like he's here to test us."

Damian nodded slightly, not caring at all, and casually said, "Have Barto send someone—"

【Ding! 】

Damian suddenly froze.

[Loading complete! Welcome to the 'Investment Rebate System'!]

Damian suddenly pursed his lips.

He is a transmigrator who was reborn into this pirate world twenty years ago.

The situation after transmigrating was not bad. Although the Moretti family was an insignificant little shrimp in the whole world, they were undoubtedly an upper-class family in Loguetown.

Damian had a comfortable life from a young age and received a very good education.

But he knew very well that power was the most important thing in this world.

After realizing he had been transported to the world of One Piece, he never stopped training.

However, Damian actually had a system.

This broken system has been loading ever since he was born, and there's no progress in sight; it's like it's frozen.

Damian was very much looking forward to it in the first few years, but gradually became indifferent, and eventually almost forgot about it.

But it was at this moment that the system finished loading!

Damian suppressed his excitement and began to examine the system's functions.

His system is called the "Investment Return System," and it has only one simple function: he can "invest" in someone in any way, and when the investor achieves his goals or dreams, the system will give him a return based on the extent of Damian's assistance to the investor.

The higher the investment level and the more you invest, the better the returns Damian will receive.

However, not everyone is capable of investing.

Damian's eyes held a hint of excitement as he looked down once more at the crowd in the square below.

After he focused his attention, he saw a small ball of light above everyone's head in his field of vision.

Almost everyone is gray.

Except for one guy.

Damian's gaze fell on Johnny Bloodblade, who was shouting and yelling.

This guy's head was emitting a green glow.

Different colored lights represent different levels of investors, and different levels of investors will provide different levels of tasks and different levels of investment returns.

The lowest level is gray, which means that the investment will not yield any returns—after all, it's impossible for just anyone's wild dreams to be worth investing in.

Green represents the second level, indicating that you can make a small profit.

Following that are blue, purple, orange, gold, and the highest level, red.

If even a gang leader can be an investment target, Damian thought back.

Unsurprisingly, Uncle Tyrone also had a green orb above his head.

"Uncle Tyrone,"

Damian asked, "What's the thing you most want to do?"

"what?"

The old butler was stunned.

The topic changed too quickly. Weren't we just talking about those thugs?

Although he was puzzled, the old butler still subconsciously said, "It is my lifelong wish that the young master can make the Moretti family grow and prosper."

Then Damian saw that the green light above the old butler's head condensed into a green seed.

The investment goal has been determined. Now, as long as Damian helps the old housekeeper achieve the goal, he will receive a rebate.

However, this is clearly a long-term task that cannot be completed immediately.

Damian turned around, tapped lightly on the window frame, and looked down at Johnny. "Uncle Tyrone, let him come up."

Tyrone was slightly taken aback, then the professional butler immediately nodded, "Yes, young master."

Below is the bank's main entrance.

"Hey! Why isn't anyone here to serve me?"

Johnny swaggered into the bank lobby, while people around him gave him a wide berth. "Such a big bank, they can't possibly not be able to come up with this little bit of money, can they?"

Then he shouted, "Did everyone's money really sink to the bottom of the sea?"

These words immediately agitated the already anxious public.

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Johnny laughed triumphantly.

The next moment, his laughter stopped abruptly.

A hand reached out from the side and grabbed his neck.

That hand was like it was made of steel; he couldn't resist at all and was dragged aside.

"Boss!"

His underlings didn't even have time to react. When they remembered to go and rescue their boss, they were stopped by a group of burly security guards and dared not go forward.

"The young master wishes to see you."

The old butler, Tyrone, grabbed Johnny by the neck with his right hand. Amidst the horrified and awe-inspiring gazes of the surrounding crowd, this iron-blooded member of the Moretti family dragged the hoodlum upstairs.

"Listen carefully, you are not allowed to be disrespectful in front of the young master. If the young master asks a question, you must answer it. If you offend him in any way, I will chop you up and feed you to the dogs."

"Ugh!!"

Johnny struggled desperately, but the old butler's strength was far beyond his ability to overcome.

What kind of monster is this?

Johnny's earlier smugness had vanished, replaced by boundless fear.

The old butler dragged Johnny straight into Damian's office and casually tossed him onto the soft carpet.

"Cough cough cough!"

Johnny, who had been holding it in all the way, coughed violently.

"Bloody Johnny, right?"

A clear, crisp voice rang out from ahead.

Johnny instinctively looked up. "Who called me 'I'?"

Immediately, the old butler behind him grabbed him by the back of the head and shoved him to the ground. "Insolence!"

It's broken! Its neck is going to break!

Johnny's face turned bright red, and his terrified pupils shrank to pinpoints.

Damian, standing by the window, smiled and waved, and the old butler then released Johnny and stepped back.

Johnny looked up with lingering fear, glancing cautiously at Damian, determined never to speak so foully again.

"Let me introduce myself."

Damian strolled over to the armchair and sat down, looking down at Johnny. "Moretti Damian, the person who sent you here should have told you about me."

"Wh-who sent me here?"

Johnny's eyes flickered, but he tried to remain calm. "I don't understand."

"Whether you understand it or not, it doesn't matter."

Damian smiled and said, "Now, Johnny,"

"Tell me your dream."

"what?"