All of Devroux’s time as of late had been spent in Sam’s shop, doing whatever he could to learn the craft from a man of status. Sam didn’t seem to be too popular as of late but having recently found out that he was also Bart’s former teacher made him far more valuable. The fact that he had allegedly also trained Cassius Butler, the current kingpin of the Seventh District, only added to that idea. If there was someone to learn from, it’d be Sam. But even more basic than that, he just wanted to use whatever time he could to practice smithing with his own hands.

The early mornings and late nights hadn’t yet started to get to him. The drive behind learning the craft and getting better was providing all the energy he needed to survive each day. This, however, didn’t reduce the amount of strain it was putting on his body. Hauling steel across the shop all day and swinging a hammer from dawn until dusk was doing wonders for his muscles; only time would tell how that worked for him outside of the shop.

Currently, Devroux was working in the back of the shop on a customer’s order while Sam tended to the front desk and taking any customers that would come to the shop. This helped sell the place a little more, as having a clerk coated in grease wasn’t always something clients wanted to see. This way, if Dev did make his way from the smithing den, any grease would be nigh invisible against his already black fur.

Most of the orders he had been receiving weren’t very clever, however. Typical supplies for other craftsmen and a whole lot of weapons. Exciting as learning the craft may be, forging variations of the same things over and over was starting to wear on him little by little.

“Just one. Just one of them ask for something interesting,” he thought, still hammering away on the blade of yet another sword.

"...cestus."

Even through the ringing his hammer was producing, this one word called out to him. Pirates and mercenaries didn't often believe in the use of anything but weapons, so armor was a craft few and far between. However, even among armor, cestus were unique. While a typical gauntlet covered the wearer's hand in plates of steel to prevent them from losing fingers if they got hit, cestus were typically used by fighters whose objective wasn't to get hit ever. They were gauntlets in name only, being more related to boxing gloves - albeit made of steel - than typical gauntlets.

The mink had no reason to even know what a cestus was. He had never crafted one, nor thought of crafting one for himself. If a weapon was needed, he had Yoru or could make something with more range. But in the down time between working here and when he worked with Bart, he was reading books on the craft to gain a little more mental experience and must have read about them there. He pondered, but ultimately it didn't matter. The opportunity was here.

Devroux got up from what he was doing and went over to the threshold to look out into the shop and see who the buyer was, only to be met with yet another person garbed in clothing from head to toe, hiding their identity. "The Bandit King must be setting trends in the pirate world," he thought, thinking back to their first meeting on the docks.

Currently, Sam was dealing with the customer. As the hidden figure rattled off design elements, the old man quickly jotted them down in his signature notebook. This was only the first part of Sam's process, but it would all end up being important when it was time to craft it.

"I've just got to take some measurements, if that's okay with you," Sam said. His voice was raspy this morning, but there was no doubt a little bit of excitement in him too.

Devroux’s eyes were locked on the work that was being done out in the front of the store; the clothed figure letting Sam do his work without much contest. The old man drew his measuring tape, wrapping it around the man’s forearm, measuring the width of his arm, the length of it, the length and width of each finger, and so on. Normally Sam would only measure the client’s height and the width of their hand for sword and hilt length, but the measurements this time were far more in depth – a necessary feat in order to produce a quality piece of armor.

Each measurement produced a number that was quickly written into the notebook lest it be forgotten. After Sam had done his due diligence and taken all the measurements he needed, he returned to his side of the counter to work in his notebook again. While the old man scribbled, his focus was on the work, only making idle conversation to keep the customer interested while he waited. When he was finished, he turned the notebook outward so the client could see a mock-up design of what the pair of cestus could look like. He then motioned for Devroux to come retrieve the notebook.

Sam wrote:

Usually Sam would deliver it to the back himself, but if his apprentice was watching anyway, he might as well force him to come retrieve it. This, of course, was only if the client gave their approval on the design that was requested. There was no sweat off Sam’s back if his mink apprentice had to stand there while he re-designed the armor at the robed man’s behest.

Devroux nodded in a greeting while he waited for confirmation.

Devroux had come from the back of the shop with a simple plan in mind: to retrieve the notebook from Sam and begin work on the latest client order. However, his appearance would make for another pivotal point in history, although how it would affect the world was yet to see. The robed man’s eyes locked on the gloomy-looking mink as he walked over, taking a brief second to reveal his face and grant a wink before returning to his hidden state. Those few moments were more than enough to shake Dev, a fact that he would do his best to hide.

The Bandit King, unfortunately, was not setting fashion trends during his time on Baltigo. At least not yet. The calico scarf hiding all features was a statement that he had been able to keep to himself, as the robed man wasn’t someone following a simple trend. It was him, the Bandit King himself. The golden fur and sharp eyes were more than enough to fill out the rest of Devroux’s memory of their chance meeting at the docks. It was almost comical that they’d run into each other yet again.

Dev returned a nod to his new client, choosing to not elaborate on their relationship further for Sam. What would he say? They were strangers at best. They had met by chance at the docks for a brief exchange of ideals, then the Bandit King had managed to wander his way into the shop, one of many in the Seventh District. It was all chance. Though, there were those that could argue that fate had a hand in their second meeting.

“Only the very best for our customers,” Dev said. His arm snaked out through an opening in his wings to cover his heart for a bow, then snagged the notebook from Sam before returning to safety behind the veil of leather. The mink then returned to the back of the shop with no further words, but his motivation in the craft was far greater than it had been for other customers. With the Bandit King on the line, there was plenty of business to be had, but more than that, he wanted to impress him. A 300,000,000-bounty mink with a name in the world was a bar for Dev to meet. One he’d meet with his crafting before anything else.

Dev started with heating the iron bars until they were red hot, taking a chisel and hammering them apart into smaller parts. These smaller pieces were imperative for building something as delicate as the cestus he was tasked with. The lightweight design that Sam had drawn meant that the plate sheeting would be abysmally thin. The mink knew what the point was, as the thin sheeting made it easier for Electro to flow from mink to target. The sheeting, however, was simple.

Using a small piece of piping, he’d round the small sheets of metal to match the measurements Sam had given him. Each piece was made exactly to what Sam had written, as anything off meant the glove wouldn’t fit properly. Even then, there was a good chance he’d have to refit certain parts to fit the Bandit King’s arm and fingers correctly. Luckily, he had requested that certain parts be made out of fabric, meaning that the metal sheets only formed a small portion of the cestus at hand. It was just enough to cover his forearms, the bottom side being mostly comprised of traditional fabric and gloving for easy flexibility.

After a short while Sam came back to supervise, no doubt after he had sent off or talked the Bandit King into waiting. His interest in the project was undeniable. “I haven’t worked with a mink in a long time. At least one that was worried about their use of electro,” he said. The old man moved over to a cupboard in the corner, rifling through the cabinets and drawers before coming back and setting a few materials down in front of his apprentice.

“It’s mostly silver. It’s expensive, but if used for ornate things, it can be aesthetically pleasing. What’s important here, however, is that it also conducts electricity fairly well.” Sam handed Dev two silver rods. “Try it for yourself.”

The mink, understanding what he was asked, did as suggested. Flowing his own Electro through the rods and holding them somewhat close together, a bolt of electricity leapt across connecting the two. It was fairly easy, although still oddly harder than it had been flowing Electro through Yoru during his fight with Adder.

“Interesting...” he dragged on.

“All these little clippings and edges are where you can throw in designs made of silver. It’ll help the Electro flow through the metal, even potentially re-purposing it.”

Devroux did as commanded. He finished up the rest of the cestus’ main design. The fingertips were covered to protect the very tips from danger, but there was still motion within the rest of the fingers and the wrist. It was a functional design, but it did leave the palm open for wounds. It was a glove meant for punching and touching, rather than palm strikes and such. After he had finished the main portion, he went to work on the silver designs; a task that required more fine detailing than the rest of the product had.

He had to use lower heat to clip off portions of the rods, round off beads, and score certain parts of the designs that were made. All in all, though, it turned out to be a fairly good design. Not one that would fit him, but a design that would hopefully be up to par with what the Bandit King had ordered. After a little bit of buffering and polishing, it was ready to present to the client.

“Welp,” Sam started, letting out a deep breath, “looks about ready to go, ya think?” The old man had his hands on his hips while admiring the pair of cestus in his apprentice’s hands.

Before Devroux responded he ran his fingers along every edge on the gauntlets’ plating to check for sharp edges. He carefully eyed the portions where the silver designs were meant to meet the edges of the sheeting to double check that everything was aligned the way it was supposed to be. They were crafts by a beginner blacksmith, but they were for a client of status and needed to meet standard. After checking for any flaws, he turned towards Sam and nodded, quietly handing the final product to the old man.

The mink hadn’t gotten many chances to fashion armor, so the cestus offered a unique opportunity for him to get creative and practice some different smithing techniques. It was special in its own right and it was now up to Sam to deliver the final product into the hands of the client. But even as that was Sam’s job, Dev couldn’t shake his desire to see the final exchange for himself. He followed Sam as the old man wandered back into the front of the shop, the mink leaning against the door frame in sight, but out of the conversation.

“Here it is,” Sam said, holding out the pair of cestus for the Bandit King to take. “Look it over and try it on. We can refit it for you if need be.”

The cestus slipped over the other mink's arms with ease, the thin fabric making up the glove making it all too easy for him to lace up the new gear without any third-party assistance. The Bandit King spread his fingers and clenched his fist, releasing and tightening the fist multiple times to get a feel for the way the gloves fit his hand. After finding comfort, he began to jab the air in front of him; the mink's arms flicking out and returning to rest in the blink of an eye. Each strike at the air gave off a glint of light as it reflected the sun coming through the windows.

"Blitzkrieg," was the name he chose. It was a little too masculine for Dev's taste, especially for how quick and agile the Bandit King had shown himself to be the last time they had met, but more power to him.

"My name's Jackal," he went on, extending his hand to Sam. Sam gently extended his hand in return, shaking the Bandit King, Jackal's, hand gingerly.

"Sam," he said, his voice horse. "But you know that. It's on the sign!" He laughed at his own joke, but it was a soft spot for most people to see and old man laughing so heartily.

"Devroux," Dev chimed in. He knew full well who Jackal was introducing himself to, but they were still in the company of Sam.

Sam charged the mink for his gear, only enough to cover the materials as a special deal in good faith. As Jackal went to leave, however, he had more to say. The bravado of a 300,000,000-bounty pirate showed its true colors as he made claim to a spar next time they'd meet, but the target of his challenge wasn't one to shy away.

"Sounds like a good time to have," Dev called back, but the Bandit King was mostly out of sight. Once again, he had propelled himself through the sky at blurring speeds until he was long gone. "It'll be interesting to spar when both of us are using weapons I've made," he thought.