Nearly a week had passed since Gustave's awakening, and the Bamboo Staff remained docked at Cocoyasi Village's humble pier. The decision to extend their stay had been Gustave's—after questioning the locals, he'd learned that no crew of fishman pirates had yet terrorized this peaceful community.
That was precisely why they were here. With Bell-mère still alive and her daughters safe, Gustave was determined to prevent the tragedy he knew was coming. Arlong and his crew would find no easy prey in Cocoyasi Village, not while the Bamboo Staff stood guard.
During their extended stay, Gustave had taken time to visit Lin Jiu's world. After all, Ren Fa had paid him handsomely for his services—money hard-earned after that brutal battle that had left him unconscious for over ten days. There was also the matter of the custom suit still waiting at the tailor shop, a task he'd been meaning to complete.
Speaking of Lin Jiu's world, Zhang Zhiwei had made quite the decision. Using his share of Ren Fa's reward, the old Heavenly Master had hired local workers to construct a modest house beside Lin Jiu's charity cemetery. He planned to become a permanent neighbor, finding the Republican-era setting more agreeable than the modern world's chaos.
When Gustave had visited to report his recovery, Zhang Zhiwei had graciously invited him to establish a more permanent residence there as well. But Gustave had politely declined—with countless fascinating worlds accessible through the Gate of All Worlds, why limit himself to just one?
Back at Cocoyasi Village, life had settled into a comfortable rhythm. Nami had become a daily fixture aboard the Bamboo Staff, ostensibly visiting to play with Yang Chan but transparently motivated by Gustave's cooking. Not that anyone minded—the girl's enthusiasm for both food and friendship was endearing, and her orange grove inspections provided a convenient excuse for her frequent visits.
The Bamboo Staff had opened its doors to the local villagers, though business proved significantly slower than their Windmill Village days. Several factors contributed to this: they lacked the years of reputation-building they'd enjoyed in their previous location; their prices, while fair for the quality, remained higher than typical village fare; and most importantly, Cocoyasi Village lacked the proximity to wealthy nobles and merchants that had made the Goa Kingdom such a profitable market.
Still, Gustave felt no pressure about the reduced income. His original goal of earning enough for a proper ship had been achieved spectacularly—the Bamboo Staff exceeded his wildest dreams, and their treasury remained comfortably full. Whether customers came or not hardly mattered now. When guests arrived, he'd provide his usual excellent service; when they didn't, he could relax with video games and enjoy a well-deserved break.
The entire crew had embraced this leisurely pace—all except Chu Zihang, who continued his relentless training regimen with single-minded dedication.
On one particularly peaceful afternoon, the Gate of All Worlds shimmered to life on the third floor. For once, neither Ace nor Luffy were present to witness the arrival—Nami had conscripted them as unpaid labor for her orange harvest, and they were currently somewhere in the groves learning the finer points of citrus agriculture.
The scene was otherwise familiar: Chu Zihang sat cross-legged on the deck in meditation, Tom dozed contentedly in a sunny spot, Gustave and the Moral Lord were absorbed in their gaming on the fourth floor, and Po had taken Yang Chan through the Gate to explore Lin Jiu's world—a cultural exchange the little girl found endlessly fascinating.
The new arrival stepped through the dimensional portal wearing modern casual attire: light blue jeans, a crisp white t-shirt beneath a denim jacket, and classic white sneakers. His clothing alone revealed nothing distinctive—countless people in any modern world dressed similarly.
But two details marked him as someone special. First was his appearance: warm, handsome features that radiated reliability and quiet strength—the kind of face that inspired immediate trust. Second, and more tellingly, was the uniquely shaped communicator device clipped to his belt.
The newcomer—Daigo Madoka of the Earth Defense Force GUTS—surveyed his surroundings with practiced caution. His right hand instinctively reached toward his waist where his holster would normally rest, only to remember he was officially off-duty today. No sidearm, but he'd brought his PDI communicator out of habit.
Daigo activated the device, its familiar GUTS logo glowing briefly before the screen showed nothing but static. No signal whatsoever—a situation that reminded him uncomfortably of the Halloween Witch incident from recent memory.
Reflexively, his hand moved to the inner pocket of his jacket, fingers finding the reassuring weight of the Spark Lens hidden there. As long as he carried Tiga's transformation device, he could face any threat with confidence.
Yet something felt different about this situation compared to previous supernatural encounters. The Halloween Witch's domain had been oppressive, shrouded in gray despair that weighed on the soul. This place, by contrast, felt almost aggressively normal—sunny, bright, and somehow peaceful despite the obvious strangeness of his circumstances.
Still, years of GUTS training had taught Daigo never to lower his guard based on appearances alone. Moving with practiced stealth, he began systematically checking the third floor's rooms. Each door he tested revealed empty quarters—guest accommodations, by the look of them, but currently unoccupied.
At the stairwell, Daigo paused. Up or down? Sunlight streaming from below suggested the main living areas lay in that direction.
The second floor revealed itself to be an elegant restaurant bathed in natural light. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a clear view of their surroundings—they were aboard a large ship moored at what appeared to be a rustic village pier. The architecture he could glimpse suggested either a historical setting or perhaps a very traditional rural community.
"Have I been transported to the past somehow?" Daigo wondered aloud, taking in the quaint buildings and peaceful atmosphere of Cocoyasi Village. In his own world, such untouched rural tranquility had become increasingly rare.
Movement below caught his attention. Through the windows, he spotted their first sign of life—a young man with black hair sitting in perfect meditation posture on the deck, apparently engaged in some form of training.
"Finally, someone to talk to!" Relief flooded through Daigo as his tactical paranoia evaporated. The figure below looked completely human and non-threatening—surely a local who could explain this bizarre situation.
Perhaps Daigo's trusting nature was both his greatest strength and his most dangerous weakness. After countless encounters with shape-shifting aliens and dimensional threats, he still maintained an almost childlike faith in humanity's basic goodness. It never occurred to him that the meditating figure might be something other than human, or that approaching an unknown entity so directly might be precisely what it was waiting for.
But that optimistic trust had served him well before. With renewed confidence, Daigo headed downstairs, eager to make contact and finally get some answers about where—or when—he'd found himself.