As the night deepened, silence should have settled, but Whiskey Peak thrummed with unrelenting energy. The town was throwing a grand feast to welcome the newly arrived pirates. In the largest tavern, nearly every resident had gathered, bringing food and drink to fuel an endless uproar that only grew louder.
The Straw Hat crew, suddenly thrust into the spotlight, were treated like heroes.
Each member reveled in their own way, many becoming the heart of the chaos.
Usopp, clutching a mug, wore a grin that betrayed his glee. Spinning his signature tall tales to an eager crowd of townsfolk, he recounted heroic exploits with unrestrained flair, unable to hide his delight. The audience's enthusiastic reactions only egged him on.
"So I told 'em," Usopp declared, "don't mess with my crew!"
"Whoa! Then what?" a listener urged.
"Well, the fight was a breeze, but those sneaky Fishmen played dirty, pretending to surrender before lunging at me! But Captain Usopp saw it all coming. I dodged with a flourish and—bam!—nailed 'em with my crack shot! The battle was over in a flash."
"Amazing! That's Captain Usopp for ya!" the crowd roared.
"Eh, no big deal," Usopp said, smirking. "Oh, and right after, I recruited those Fishmen under my command. Now, that story's another—"
Tonight, Usopp was on fire. Words poured from him effortlessly, captivating the crowd with gripping tales, making him the center of attention.
But he wasn't the only one stealing the show. The surrounding clamor owed much to his crewmates.
At another table, Zoro slammed his mug down, locked in a drinking contest with a local. He was on his tenth opponent, who'd just collapsed, unable to keep up. The onlookers erupted, cheering Zoro's victory. His unchanged expression after downing ten men sparked awe and laughter.
"Hell yeah!" a spectator shouted. "That guy's unbeatable—ten down!"
"Next!" another called. "We'll get him this time!"
"Keep it coming!" the crowd roared.
Zoro, silent and stoic, savored his drink and kept going. Another challenger sat beside him, clinking mugs. With a scowl, Zoro downed another, his throat rumbling with each gulp.
Not far off, Nami was also in a drinking contest, letting off steam from their grueling voyage. Her pace outstripped Zoro's, and she didn't budge against men or women challengers. She chugged with gusto, raising her mug high, her face alight with joy.
"Take that!" she shouted.
"This gal's got twelve under her belt!" a bystander yelled.
"And she's still going strong!"
"Who's next? Bring it on!" Nami called, clearly loving every second.
She wasn't just drinking for fun—it was a competition, and she had no intention of losing. Each victory only boosted her mood.
In the tavern's center, Luffy was putting on a staggering display of gluttony. Empty plates piled up—too many to count—and still, his hands never stopped. Grinning wide, he kept devouring.
"More!" he shouted.
"Unreal!" a onlooker gasped. "He's eaten twenty portions!"
"And he's still got room!"
"How much can this guy eat?!"
It was practically a battle with the cooks now. Luffy showed no mercy, eating with a fervor that suggested he'd keep going until he dropped—if he even knew his limit. Each dish that arrived was demolished instantly, his cheerful grin unwavering.
Adding to the spectacle, Sanji held court in a corner, surrounded by a gaggle of women on clustered sofas. Amid the tavern's wholesome chaos, his space oozed a sultry vibe. Food and drink didn't interest him—his slack-jawed grin and dazed eyes were fixed on the women, his usual charm replaced by a goofy, lovesick demeanor.
"This guy's trying to woo twenty women at once!" a townsman shouted. "What a legend!"
"What is this crew?!" another marveled.
The townsfolk's cheers seemed to spur the crew on. The five of them—Luffy, Usopp, Zoro, Nami, and Sanji—embraced their pirate spirit, reveling freely in the feast.
At the counter, Silk sat with a glass of liquor, casting a bemused look at her crewmates' antics. Beside her, Kiri, also nursing a drink, sat with his back to the chaos.
"They're going wild," Silk said. "Don't they think this is suspicious?"
"They know it's fishy but roll with it," Kiri replied. "Though some are just genuinely having fun."
"Really?" Silk said, frowning. "What do you think, Kiri? A banquet with pirates we just met feels… off."
"Hmm, who knows?" Kiri said, his easy smile deflecting her concern.
Silk's worry was met with Kiri's usual nonchalance, but something felt different tonight. His relaxed demeanor seemed off, lacking its usual edge. Despite the familiarity, an odd disconnect nagged at her. He swirled his glass, ice clinking, and leaned on his hand, eyes lowered with a calm that felt almost forced.
"There's no need to worry," Kiri said. "Zoro's on guard. Leave it to him."
"But isn't it tough for him alone?" Silk asked.
"He's pumped," Kiri said. "He's got new blades to test."
"Oh, right—his swords," Silk said, glancing at Zoro.
Zoro had removed his swords from his waist but kept them close, ensuring no one could snatch them. His alertness suggested he sensed something amiss, driven by more than just a swordsman's instinct.
Silk looked back at Kiri. He knew something, didn't he? Yet he was deliberately vague. Why? Was there a reason to hide it? Her brow furrowed, a knot of unease forming in her chest. He'd probably dodge any questions, and that realization stung.
"Will Zoro be okay on his own?" she asked.
"Probably," Kiri said.
"Is that your call?" she pressed.
"Yup," he replied, his smile unwavering.
His casual confidence was unshakable—or maybe he was trying to keep it that way. Without looking at her, Kiri added softly, "No one in this town can beat Zoro."
"Sure, he's strong, but—"
"Not even all of them together," Kiri said firmly. "Trust me. Just let him handle it."
"Okay…" Silk said, uncertain.
"Why not let loose a bit yourself?" Kiri suggested. "You're exhausted from the voyage. It's fine to cut loose. It's practical, even—recharging for what's next. The others are doing it, and it makes sense."
Silk's face clouded as Kiri met her gaze. They'd known each other long enough, but an unsettling feeling crept in—likely tied to whatever he was hiding. He wouldn't tell her, and that hurt. Unable to respond, she glanced at the raucous crew.
Nami, having downed her thirteenth opponent, approached with surprising steadiness. Silk gave a wry smile as Nami's bright grin met her.
"What's with you, Silk? Bored?" Nami said. "Come on, drink up! Let's go all out tonight. Nothing beats this after a rough day!"
"Nami, it's great to unwind, but don't overdo it," Silk said. "You'll hurt yourself."
"What are you talking about?" Nami laughed. "We're pirates—freedom's our currency! Dealing with weird weather and a weirder captain means I deserve this. No one's gonna yell at me for it!"
"Uh, is your party switch flipped?" Silk asked.
"Come on, drink!" Nami said, dragging her off. "We're going till dawn!"
"Whoa, wait—!" Silk protested.
Nami was clearly tipsy, her steps steady but her mood uncontainably high. Half-dragged, Silk left the counter. It was a crewmate, so no harm done. Kiri watched her go with a faint smile.
He glanced back at the crew—Usopp spinning tales with wild gestures, Zoro and Nami in drinking contests, Silk reluctantly joining Nami, Luffy devouring food, and Sanji lost in his flirtations. The chaotic scene drew a soft chuckle from him. His smile turned gentle, almost tender.
The crew had grown, hadn't it? It started with just him and Luffy, but island by island, their ranks had swelled. Watching them laugh and revel eased the tension in his shoulders.
He had to protect them. He wasn't alone anymore.
As he stood alone, a woman approached. Kiri offered a casual smile, and she sat beside him, clearly drawn to him. "Mind if I join you?" she asked.
"Go ahead," Kiri said. "I was just feeling lonely."
She laughed. "Thanks. You're honest, aren't you?"
Dressed in a captivating gown, she rivaled the women flocking to Sanji. Her every gesture was graceful, and she leaned closer, almost teasingly. Any man would notice. Their shoulders nearly touched, and Kiri deepened his smile, meeting her gaze. They turned from the tavern's noise, talking closely.
"You're not joining the party?" she asked. "Everyone's having fun."
"I'm enjoying myself enough," Kiri said. "This vibe suits me."
"Really? You said you were lonely."
"Well, not anymore," he replied. "You're here now."
"Oh?" she said, smiling.
She gently took his hand, her touch subtle yet deliberate. Their eyes met as she squeezed lightly. "You're bolder than I expected," she said. "I thought you'd blush."
"I can if you prefer," Kiri teased.
"No, stay like this," she said, laughing. "I like a confident man."
Their voices softened, the distance between them shrinking. The crowd paid no mind, leaving them undisturbed. She leaned closer, almost draped against him.
"So, you're a pirate, right?" she asked. "Ever gone treasure hunting?"
"Sure have," Kiri said. "Even found some once."
"Really? I've heard sailors are liars," she teased.
"It's true," he said. "No proof, though."
"Why not?"
"It sank," he said. "Back then, we had a tiny boat. Overloaded it, and it went under."
She giggled. "Sounds like quite a story."
Encouraged by his openness, she rested her head on his shoulder. Kiri didn't pull away, accepting it with a smile. "I want to hear more," she said.
"About me?" he asked.
"You," she confirmed. "Seeing you alone, I couldn't help myself."
Kiri squeezed her hand back, and she beamed. "I want to ease your loneliness," she said. "Even if it's just for tonight."
"That's a tempting offer," Kiri said. "No reason to say no to a beauty like you."
She laughed, pulling him to his feet. They slipped out of the tavern unnoticed, stepping into the night. The clear sky revealed a bright moon, but the streets were eerily quiet, almost desolate. The town felt sparsely populated, devoid of life beyond the tavern.
Her hand still in his, Kiri followed her lead. The night air was chilly, and his lean, muscular frame—honed over years but lacking fat—shivered slightly in his light clothes. She noticed, squeezing his hand tighter, and smiled. "Cold? Winter's coming. Hang in there."
"What's the reward for enduring?" Kiri asked.
"I'll warm you up, of course," she said playfully. "You already know that."
"Just checking," he said. "Wouldn't want to assume and embarrass myself."
They exchanged smiles, hands clasped, and entered a house. Climbing the stairs, they reached a second-floor room with a spacious bed, sparking imagination. She gestured for him to sit, and he obliged, settling on the bed's edge as she prepared something.
"Care for wine?" she asked. "I've got a good one."
"I'm not picky about liquor," Kiri said. "But too much knocks me out."
"Oh? You love it but can't handle it?" she teased.
"I don't get drunk, but I lose strength," he said. "Gotta be careful."
"Interesting," she said. "A little should be fine, though."
As Kiri sat, she fetched a bottle from a wine cellar, showing it to him before turning to prepare a glass—only one. Just before picking up the bottle and glass, she slipped a small capsule from her dress, tucking it under her tongue.
Turning back, she flashed a seductive smile and approached, pouring wine into the glass. "Stay there," she said. "I'll help you drink."
"Thanks," Kiri said, his grin genuine.
Pleased, she tilted the glass to her lips, letting the wine linger before keeping it in her mouth. She sat on his lap, hands on his shoulders, their eyes locked. Smiling, she leaned in, their lips meeting as she parted hers slightly.
They tumbled onto the bed together.
Hours later, deep into the night, the feast finally wound down, and silence blanketed the town. The Straw Hats, exhausted from their revelry, had fallen asleep. The townsfolk, drained by the high-energy banquet, began to disperse, leaving the tavern with weary expressions.
Whiskey Peak's residents—roughly a hundred strong—gathered outside. Their earlier warmth was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating air. An unsettling vibe hung over them, but they seemed unbothered, united in purpose.
Igarappoi, the mayor, scanned the group, confirming the quiet. The Straw Hats hadn't stirred. "Finally settled," he said. "So far, the plan's on track."
"Urp," groaned a towering woman, her muscular frame rivaling any man's. "They drink hard and eat harder. What a pain of a plan."
Removing her nun's hood, Miss Monday glared at Igarappoi, her face etched with annoyance. "Was all this necessary for those brats?" she said. "We could've taken them out at the port. They're nothing special—wouldn't have taken long to wipe them out."
"Don't underestimate them, Miss Monday," Igarappoi replied. "This is a critical mission, and they're not to be taken lightly."
She snorted, unconvinced. Igarappoi pressed on. "Seen their bounties? The straw hat's worth 30 million. The blond's at 20 million Berries."
"30 million? Him?" Miss Monday said, incredulous.
"He's the pirate from that newspaper," Igarappoi said. "Unpredictable. Orders are to capture him unharmed, so we play it safe. What about the target?"
"Lured out perfectly," Miss Monday said. "Probably having fun right now."
"Then our mission's nearly done," Igarappoi, codenamed Mr. 8, said coldly. "We hand over the 30 million to the Marines for the bounty. The rest are free to deal with as we please."
Miss Monday scratched her short hair, her eyes serious. "And the others?"
"No use for them," Mr. 8 said. "Kill them."
"Got it," she said, nodding.
Mr. 9 and Miss Wednesday, now among the crowd, nodded in agreement. The situation seemed to be nearing its end, a deadly tension settling over the group. They believed it was already over.
Then a voice cut through from above, coming from a rooftop. "Mind letting them sleep a bit longer? They're beat from the voyage."
"What—?!" Mr. 8 snapped, looking up.
There, silhouetted against the crescent moon, sat Roronoa Zoro, cross-legged, a sword raised. He'd been drinking heavily and should've been passed out, but no trace of intoxication showed. He wasn't pretending to be sober—he was utterly calm, scanning the crowd.
Shock rippled through the group, all eyes on Zoro. A menacing air enveloped the scene, at odds with the town's "hospitality." Zoro's grin was feral, relishing their gazes, his excitement palpable. He was in high spirits, his drawn sword signaling trouble brewing in the quiet town.
"You!" Mr. 8 barked. "You were asleep in the tavern!"
"A swordsman doesn't let liquor get the better of him," Zoro said.
"Damn you…!" Mr. 8 growled, glaring.
The crowd, mistaken for ordinary townsfolk, now held weapons, men and women of all ages ready for battle. "So that's the deal," Zoro said. "This place is a bounty hunters' nest, preying on pirates who strut into the Grand Line. And you're Baroque Works."
His casual words stunned the crowd. Gasps and murmurs erupted. Zoro continued, unfazed. "How do you know our organization?" Mr. 8 demanded.
"No big deal," Zoro said. "Back when I was doing similar work, your lowlife scouts tried to recruit me. I turned them down, but I learned a thing or two."
Ignoring their sharp glares, he spoke with ease. "Your agents don't know each other's identities, just codenames—Mr. This, Miss That. Even the boss's identity and location are secret. You're just a crime syndicate following orders. Baroque Works. What, was that a secret?"
"You know too much," Mr. 8 said. "That scout talked too freely."
"Perfect timing," Zoro said, standing and drawing both swords—Yubashiri in his right hand, Sandai Kitetsu in his left. "I've been itching to test these blades. A hundred criminals? Decent prey. The quality's questionable, but the numbers'll do."
Baroque Works, the secret crime syndicate, faced him down. The agents, reacting to his dangerous aura, raised their weapons with practiced ease. Their hostility zeroed in on Zoro, who rolled his shoulders, readying himself. They'd switched to combat mode, and he welcomed it.
Mr. 8, resolute, looked up and spoke boldly. "Impressive. Few outsiders know this much about us, likely thanks to a careless agent. I commend you, Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro."
"So you've got intel on us too," Zoro said.
"But we're a secret society," Mr. 8 said, his eyes cold. "Those who know must be erased."
He clapped, his gaze icy. "Another tombstone for Cactus Rock…"
Zoro glanced at the island's signature feature. His keen eyes couldn't make it out in the dark, but Cactus Rock wasn't adorned with cacti needles—it was a graveyard of tombstones for those dispatched in this town. They planned to bury him there, as they always had.
Mr. 8 shouted, "Do it!"
The Baroque Works agents surged forward. Zoro, grinning wickedly, kicked off the roof, ready to meet them head-on.
--+--
T/N: Although I'm an inexperienced Editor, I do have a Patreon account! Although it seems like I don't have many supporters right now, my webnovel will be released in full every day, and the advanced chapters will be uploaded to Patreon.
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