The colossal luxury liner Gorgeous Hattari—so massive it could pass for an island unto itself.
Pirates who qualified boarded at sunset, and the ship was already underway.
Qualifiers would unfold on an island far from Blue Square, kicking off at dawn. Until then: rest up. But aboard, the revelry raged in feverish excess—a banquet to end all banquets.
Food and drink flowed free.
Hired master chefs darted through vast kitchens, plating dish after dish in a frenzy.
In the even grander dining hall, pirate crews from every corner crammed together for the feast.
The scene was savage: tables smeared with grime, a sight that'd make any civilian recoil. But to them, it was just another day—no one batted an eye.
Red carpets soaked up spilled sauces; booze stains bloomed unchecked.
This was pirate life, plain and simple.
The Straw Hats blended into the chaos.
They claimed a table near the entrance, chowing down with their signature uproar—standing out even among hardened adults.
No one meant to trash the spread, but their wild eating left the white tablecloths filthy, cutlery clanging nonstop.
Luffy led the noise brigade.
His stretchy arms snatched grub from plates afar, sparking frantic grabs from his crew.
"Nngh!"
"Hey, Luffy! You swiped from my plate again?!"
"H-Hurry or it's gone!"
"Tony-kun, no rush—plenty to go around..."
Usopp leaped up, yelling; Chopper crammed food in panic. Vivi managed a wry smile at the frenzy.
Business as usual. Though today, similar mayhem echoed everywhere.
No outright brawls—yet the rowdy pirates kept everyone on edge.
Igaram shot wary glares around; Zoro, beside him, muttered dryly:
"Staring too hard backfires. Better to lay low."
"But Vivi-sama could be in danger. This is a den of pirates."
"That's why I'm saying don't provoke. They catch your eye, they get ideas—and boom, they're on you. You wanna choke the princess yourself?"
Igaram groaned, bottle to lips.
True—endangering Vivi on his watch? Unthinkable for a guard captain. He dialed back the suspicion, rejoining the table's warmth.
The noise persisted, but Vivi laughed.
For now, that was enough. Her ease was a relief.
Other eyes scanned the room too.
Silk's gleamed with barely contained awe, cataloging crews at distant tables.
Pirate-obsessed since childhood, her knowledge came from papers and sailor yarns—but it ran deep, a hobby unbroken.
Unmissable legends dotted the hall.
To Nami beside her, it was baffling.
But Silk's head whipped side to side, grin splitting wide in delight.
"Whoa... bounty heads everywhere—over a hundred mil. 'Grand Slam Eugene,' even 'Relentless Gustave.' Unbelievable, sharing a room with them."
"You're way too hyped."
"Can you blame me? All these legends in one place!"
"You joined Dead End too. Isn't this old news?"
"Sure, but the lineup's worlds apart."
"Your hobby's lost on me."
They savored the feast all the same.
Silk shone brightest, but Nami sipped her glass, mood lifted.
Mid-bite, Sanji's gaze wandered too—spotting female pirates, his mustache twitched, eyes alight.
Fork and knife faltered.
Taste and eye candy? Focus shattered.
"Man, festivals rock. Wanna cozy up to that beauty..."
"Pass. She's a pirate—steal your wallet and ghost."
"I'd let a goddess like her fleece me..."
"Hopeless. Guys like you die first."
Usopp chewed thoughtfully, calmer now.
Zoro eyed him coolly:
"Idiot. Get stabbed by a girl once—cure ya."
"What, mosshead? Ain't your business."
"Good. Spare me your dumb stories—pure hell."
"Escort clueless caveman can't get it? You're the idiot."
"Wanna get sliced?"
"Kicked?"
"No fighting, you two."
Silk's sharp rebuke shut them down cold.
They'd grown used to it, apparently.
Meals resumed quietly; Silk resumed her gleeful scans.
After a round, Ace eyed the crew and burst out laughing.
He brimmed with cheer, ignoring stares—despite being the hall's top-bounty star, oblivious to his fame.
Spotting Luffy's stuffed cheeks, he grinned:
"Your crew's a riot. Glad they're solid—had me worried he'd sink solo."
"Mmph—shishishi, right? We hold our own against your mates."
"We'll see."
Ace cradled his mug left-handed, arm slung over his chair, beaming.
"Word of warning: Old Man's a monster. I can't touch him."
"You?"
"Yup. Total wipeout. Guy's unreal."
"If you can't win... he must be insane. Pirates like that exist?"
"Heard he scrapped with Gramps back in the day."
Luffy swallowed, gnawed fresh meat, impressed.
Garp's name dropped; Ace's smile deepened.
"Oh yeah—I met Gramps."
"When?"
"Post-pirate life. Chased me yelling quit or die. Split from crew, Kiri got wrecked... his punches hurt."
"Hah, figures. There's a reason."
"Reason?"
"Wanna know?"
Ace lit up.
Luffy nodded trustingly—no doubts.
Kiri perked up, intrigued.
"Everyone's got dormant power. Awaken it, and you can smack Devil Fruit users—hurt 'em for real."
"Power? What?"
"'Haki.' Gramps wields it, naturally."
Ace eyed his clenched fist.
A Logia user himself—intangible to normals. Haki lets you hit any type, deal damage.
Luffy munched, listening intently despite confusion.
"Takes training, practice. Just know it exists—you're slow on uptake."
"Yeah... mystery power, got it."
"Jeez..."
Ace chuckled, exasperated but fond.
Kiri clocked it: big-bro softness.
She sipped, mulling Haki. Rare, but widespread among elites. They'd need it someday.
But banquet now—no time for brooding.
Beside her, Baby 5 clung arm-in-arm, head on shoulder—here for Kiri, woven seamlessly into the group.
Resistance futile; Kiri had acclimated.
As Kiri drained her glass, Ace glanced over:
"Hey, Kiri—step out?"
"Sure. What's up?"
"Partners tomorrow. Wanna chat. Too loud here."
"Deck it is."
Kiri rose; Baby 5 followed suit, Ace too.
Crew eyed them curiously amid the din.
Kiri waved breezily, smiling as she went:
"Where to?"
"Quick breather. Pace yourselves—dawn start."
"That's you, Luffy."
"Mmph!!"
Luffy's cheeks ballooned again, energy unflagging. Kiri and Ace slipped out, leaving the vast hall.
Corridors hummed with eerie calm.
Pre-tourney brawls? Instant Marine handover.
Whether rule-following or scheming, no one stirred trouble.
Rowdy diners aside, the quiet ones unnerved Kiri most.
Pirates with restraint and brains? Deadliest breed.
The hush felt unnatural as they hit the deck.
Cloudless sky, full moon bathed everything silver.
Ship's scale hit anew—no sails, all mechanical guts.
No urge to poke around, but impressive. Built for this? Backers intrigued her.
They halted by the rail, sea vista open—no souls nearby.
Talk time.
But Baby 5's tag-along nagged. Time to peel her off.
Kiri smiled gently at her blissful lean:
"Mind giving us two a sec?"
"Eh? You don't need me...?"
"Not like that. Uh—here."
Fishing keys from pocket—room-plated, one per person. Hers.
Handing it over, Baby 5 flushed, hands trembling.
"Head back first. Do whatever."
"Y-You mean..."
"Be there soon."
Soft smile, no elaboration. Baby 5 nodded, flustered but willing.
Light shove; she glanced back, eyes misty. Kiri waved cheerily. Baby 5 waved too, vanishing inside.
Alone now, Kiri gazed seaward; Ace chuckled:
"Smooth operator."
"Old habits. Infiltration's my jam."
"That Crocodile gig Luffy mentioned?"
"Yup."
Kiri nodded curtly—no elaboration.
Ace had grilled Luffy plenty.
He sighed faintly, wry:
"Rough road, huh? Heard the rundown."
"Yeah. But led me to Luffy."
"True... He trusts you deep. Owe you thanks."
Kiri met his eyes, smile fading; Ace grinned boyish.
"For propping him up. Feared he'd flounder alone—but solid crew. That lot? Sky's the limit."
"High praise from Whitebeard's commander."
"Pfft, I hassle my guys plenty. 'Commander' don't fit."
Self-deprecating, eyes on horizon.
Baggage there. Echoes of Luffy's chaos, believable. Troubled look hinted at crew drama.
Before Kiri probed, Ace murmured:
"His life's his. Won't meddle as bro. But you know—he's a handful. Keep watch, yeah?"
Classic big brother.
Worry laced that Luffy-esque grin.
Fresh acquaintance, but instant rapport. Shared concern, mirrored traits—odd warmth.
No reason to refuse; music to her ears. Kiri smiled soft, nodding:
"Got it. Vowed it when we set sail."
"Knew I could count on you."
"All in. Tired of losing crew."
Smile held, gaze dipped—mood sobered.
Bright voice shattered it:
**"Appappa! This'll be fun. Fire Fist Ace in the flesh."
They whirled: lone figure mid-deck.
Freakish build—extra joints, elongated arms. "Longarm Tribe." Red garb, headphones, specs, braided locks.
Face rang bells: bounty-backed notoriety.
"'Sea Shaker'... Scratchmen Apoo."
"Appa—you know me? Honored, 'Paper User.'"
Kiri's mutter drew his gaze; arm swayed lazily.
Sea Shaker Scratchmen Apoo—rising rookie, name buzzing. Prankster vibes, rumors heavy on targets over strength.
Direct fights or ambushes; infamous habit: strike, taunt, bail.
Power irrelevant—even picks pointless scraps, then flees.
Strong, sure—but a genius at enraging folks.
Kiri'd heard; she kept face loose, senses sharp.
Apoo sauntered closer.
Kiri tracked every twitch; Ace stayed lax.
"Big shots both sides—but you stand out. That back mark? Ship's abuzz: 'Fire Fist's in.'"
"Business?"
"Easy— just chatting."
"Rumors ain't flattering."
"Appa! Fair. But no harm planned. Tourney's tomorrow."
Apoo's grin screamed untrustworthy.
Kiri hadn't hidden wariness; Ace clapped her shoulder, chuckling calm—relax. He welcomed it, unfazed.
Apoo planted before them, arms crossed, chipper:
"No need for guards. Just here to watch."
"Watch?"
"Event this big? Pirate parade. No win itch—I'll flop somewhere."
"Huh. Joyboy, eh?"
"Weird. No prize drive?"
"You aiming top? Different goals. Appa!"
Kiri's hackles rose—scheming.
Apoo leaned in, oblivious or not:
"But c'mon—this ain't just games, right? Pirates swarming, no Marines or Cipher Pol? Sketchy."
"True. Can't be info blackout."
"You clocked it, Paper User?"
Apoo's stare lingered, smile sly—implying depths.
Bystander claim rang hollow. Interest: Kiri, not Ace.
Not here for Fire Fist. Hooked on the upstart vice-captain who'd newspaper-hyped her crew.
Eyes told the tale.
Silence tempted, but low stakes—fine.
Kiri met his gaze, easing cheek:
"Organizers—or Blueberry Times—Government ties? Explains no Marines."
"I sniffed suspects. CP might crash."
"Cipher Pol?"
World Gov intel arm—separate from Marines, rumor-mill for secrets. Eight branches, CP1-8 worldwide.
Any agent: nightmare.
"Royals here too. If moving, CP over Navy."
"Eyes open—shady tourneys especially."
Apoo's focus: Kiri-locked, Ace sidelined.
Dangerous.
Ignores Whitebeard ace for rookie strategist—blatant fascination.
Worst kind: upfront predator.
Kiri upped threat level.
He'd approached armed with unknowns. Alliance bait? Nah. Tease or brag.
Apoo smirked unchanged.
"Watch your backs. Hope it don't blow big."
Final words; he spun to leave.
Kiri called sharp:
"Why tell us? Not playing savior."
"Hmm? Suspect me?"
"You expect trust?"
"Appappa! Love it. Chill—no backstabs."
Grinning huge, turned:
"Pure spectator. Fun show? Dip quick. But you two? High hopes. Chekera!"
Bouncing off lightly.
"Quick loss"—tourney only.
Next clash? Different story. Kiri glared after him.
Ace sighed:
"Pirates come in flavors. Least it won't bore."
"Yeah."
Kiri mulled: future foe, maybe.
Resolve hardened; Apoo now unwatchable. Fellow rookies, unbigged seas. But his vibe? Unpredictable year out.
Eyes sharpened—Scratchmen Apoo: enemy tagged.
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