[Weasel-man takes the papers back and starts copying things into other ledgers and doing a series of calculations.]

Your first match will be against Mister Cleaner. Don't keep the crowd waiting.

[Namur nods appreciatively, ushering Zoro down the hall to the prep room. Once they've got some semblance privacy, Namur scratches the back of his head.]

Shit, we're gonna make bank t'night, sheheheheh! Cleaner's a pushover. Weren't kiddin' when I said there's some that'll wreck yer ass like a Tenryuubito wrecks a slave, but ain't none a 'em on the lists. But listen.

[Namur straddles the bench, facing Zoro and blocking others out of their conversation with his mass. His tone is hushed, but not necessarily a whisper.]

Haki ain't magic, but full on Armament Haki looks close 'nuff t' make the refs flip their shit. Gonna lay it on thick somewhere, make sure 's under yer clothes, or put it on yer swords 'fore y' draw, so they jus' think y' got black blades. Might be overkill right at first, but y' are gonna need it if yer gonna go all the way t'night, catch me?

[And then it occurs to him.]

Uhh. That is a thing y' know how t' do, right? Coatin' yer blades?