Outside, a full-blown gunfight was raging—so intense it was obvious nobody involved gave a damn about keeping the noise down. There was no chance I was sleeping through that. I got up and stepped outside to see what was going on.
From the way the gunfire traded back and forth, it sounded like the gang—or whatever group Alice had mentioned earlier—was locked in a firefight with someone else. Not a lone shooter, either. This was multiple-on-multiple.
I knew it was dangerous to go out. Stray bullets could be flying anywhere…
They wouldn't hurt me. But what about the other two?
…Then again, those two are probably fine as well.
Suzu was the easy one. A Logia user with the Mud-Mud Fruit—physical attacks simply don't work on her. Unless someone reinforced their blows with Haki… but with my Observation Haki, I couldn't sense anyone outside who could do that.
And coating projectiles in Haki is an absurdly advanced technique anyway. I've heard it's doable with arrows, but bullets are supposedly far harder. Maybe compatibility matters, too.
Leona, on the other hand, was a Zoan—but she was naturally tough enough that bullets barely mattered. The Nemean Lion's hide, said to be impervious to all weapons, translated into that same level of defense even in her human form.
Just remembering the crater she left the first time we met—and how she crawled out without a scratch—made her durability easy to believe. Even back on Little Garden, dinosaur fangs and horns couldn't pierce her skin.
And lately, she'd been training hard. If anything, she was even tougher now.
Besides, leaving anyone alone at the inn felt wrong. So the three of us went out together, taking a short walk into the night.
It was so dark I couldn't make out much. But the strobing muzzle flashes, the roars, the screams—those made it obvious enough. This wasn't some petty scuffle. It was a real conflict.
Even when I pushed my Observation Haki, I couldn't pick out individuals. All I could feel was the violent collision of hostility and killing intent.
Leona, though, with a predator's eyes, could see better in the dark. So I asked her what she could tell.
"It's… kind of one-sided. One side's desperately trying to hold on or run, and the other is hunting them down—like they won't stop until they wipe them out."
"So they got jumped, and the ambush worked? They took the first hit and never recovered—meaning the outcome was decided from the start?"
"It hasn't been going on very long. Doesn't look like it's swung back and forth. Suzu's guess is probably right." Leona's voice was low. "Which means this wasn't a 'fight' so much as an attack that was planned from the beginning."
We had no idea which gang was which, and we didn't know the details. There was no point speculating further—especially since it didn't matter to us.
Either way… could they please stop spraying bullets in the middle of the night and shaking the whole neighborhood with it?
Just as I was thinking that, the gunfire stopped.
Not completely—single shots still cracked now and then—but the frantic exchange was gone. And even those last, isolated shots faded out soon after.
"…Looks like it's over," Leona muttered. "The side being attacked stopped firing back, and the attackers rushed what looked like their hideout. If there's no more resistance… then they're probably all dead."
It had only been minutes.
Was that long? Was that short?
Either way, at least I could finally sleep.
Alright. Back to the inn. There was nothing for us here now. And I definitely wasn't going to walk into the aftermath and start "interviewing" people.
We were turning to leave when Leona suddenly stopped and looked back.
"Huh?"
"What is it, Leona?"
"…Um. I think I saw Alice over there."
"Alice? Maybe she lives nearby and came out because of the noise?"
"If she really was out there, that's reckless," Suzu said flatly. "Unlike us, a stray bullet would ruin her."
Leona hesitated. "I'm not sure. It was far away, and it's so dark… I only caught a glimpse."
She sounded uncertain—like she didn't fully trust her own eyes.
Whatever. Time to go back to bed.
---
The next morning, Alice burst into our room the moment the day began.
"I'm guiding you today!" she announced, then corrected herself with zero shame. "No—today you're letting me guide you!"
She was so urgent we barely had time to blink, much less eat. We were hustled out of the inn before breakfast—and as we walked, we finally learned why she'd been in such a hurry.
It was about last night's shootout.
As expected, it had been a turf war between rival gangs in the area.
One side had prepared meticulously and struck first. The ambush was brutally effective, shattering the other gang's formation from the opening moments. The survivors never managed to regroup—they collapsed under a relentless, coordinated assault.
And now the victors were sweeping the area for remnants, rounding up anyone suspected of ties to the defeated faction and "purging" them.
So that's why we had to leave the inn in such a rush?
We had nothing to do with either side. Could they really be the type to fabricate reasons just to harass civilians?
…Actually, even if we're uninvolved, there's still a chance we get dragged into it.
Alice probably feared a sudden shootout with desperate targets on the run… or thugs using us as shields. Or taking Suzu and Leona hostage to force me into hiding them.
If those idiots came looking for trouble, we could handle it. But it was smarter to avoid the entire mess.
That was why Alice brought us to a riverside spot away from the city—quiet, out of the way, and calm.
There wasn't anything particularly noteworthy about it. Just a peaceful place to breathe for a while.
The problem was… there was nothing to do.
It was "nature" in the loosest sense—some greenery and a wide stretch of gravelly ground. Relaxing there got boring in about a minute.
So I pulled out fishing rods from storage—one each—and suggested we fish.
Apparently, there were fish here. Alice said so, and she'd know.
She did blink when I produced the rods out of nowhere, but she didn't ask. Either she was considerate enough not to pry, or she had the sense that whatever it was, it was better left alone. Thoughtful kid.
I handed her a rod, and we cast our lines.
A little while later—
"Whoa! What is this—some kind of feeding frenzy?"
"They've been biting nonstop," Suzu said, watching the line. "The bucket's almost full already. Alice, how did you even find this place?"
"I-I'm just as surprised as you are," she said, flustered. "It's never been this good before!"
"Then maybe we're just lucky today."
For the record, none of us used our powers to mess with the fish. We don't even have abilities that work that way.
Why they were biting so aggressively was a mystery—but it was fun. Ridiculously fun.
…And then it hit me: Marine warships had been patrolling the waters since yesterday. If they'd spooked a school of fish, maybe it fled and ended up here by accident.
Alice's reaction suggested this wasn't normal for the spot. So it really was luck—timing, chance, whatever.
But Suzu was right. The bucket was nearly full.
Actually… it was already more fish than the four of us could possibly eat. Not even close.
Around midday, I decided to cook what we'd caught and make lunch on the spot.
I had Suzu handle the prep—gutting the fish and skewering them—while I took over the grilling.
Grilling fish over an open flame is harder than people think. Undercook it and it's a problem. Leave it too long and it burns. You have to watch the heat, the distance, and the exact moment to flip.
"It's just grilling," people say. "How hard can it be?"
Try it. Without experience or research, you'll be crying over charcoal.
Luckily, I'd had plenty of survival-esque experiences over the past thirty years. And my so-called Offensive Cooking had gotten plenty of practice. I was confident.
Before long, everything was done—golden-brown skin, the right kiss of char, oil sizzling and popping, that smell rising off the fire like a promise.
You could tell from the look alone it would be fluffy and tender inside. Perfect.
Even I had to admit it.
Flawless. Master-level grilling.
"Delicious!!"
And there it was—Suzu and Leona, as always, eating like it was the best day of their lives.
Honestly, seeing them smile like that—so unguarded, so satisfied—made every bit of effort worth it. Kids' smiles really are unfairly powerful.
Alice took a cautious bite.
"…M-mm…" Her eyes widened. "Delicious…?!"
She looked like she'd lost the ability to speak.
Then she tore into it with a hunger that wasn't just enthusiasm. She devoured the fish down to clean bones, fingers slick with oil, chewing fast like she was afraid it might vanish.
…Right. She probably is starving.
This was a slum. No stable work. No reliable income. Surviving day to day meant food was never guaranteed.
Alice finished one fish, then glanced at another—hesitating, like she didn't have the right—
"Mmph!"
Leona shoved a fresh fish into her hands with an expression that left no room for argument. Don't hold back. Eat. Her eyes said it all.
Startled, Alice nodded and bit in again.
Good. Good. Eat your fill. I'll keep grilling.
And besides… we had more than enough.
"Hey, Alice," I said, nodding toward the edge of the clearing. "Those kids watching over there—are they your friends or something?"
"Huh? …Oh."
I didn't even need Observation Haki for this. A group of children—no, more than a dozen—were huddled in the shadows, staring.
Judging by their ragged clothes, they were probably orphans. Like Alice.
Their eyes were fixed on the fire, on the fish, on the steam and the scent.
They weren't trying to hide their desire. Their faces practically screamed, I want to eat that.
They were staring so hard I half-expected them to lunge the second we looked away.
But there was no malice in them.
Just hunger. Desperation. Starving kids.
…Hmm.
We couldn't finish all this ourselves anyway.
Fine.
---
And that was how it happened.
"Mmm—it's so good!"
"Sniff… sniff…" "It's… so… delicious…"
"C-can I have another one?"
"Sure, sure," I said, flipping another skewer. "I'll keep grilling, so keep eating. But eat while it's hot."
"No fighting," Suzu added, voice firm. "There's enough for everyone. Line up, take turns."
"And don't choke," Leona warned, pressing water into small hands. "Slow down. Drink properly."
Somehow, it had turned into a soup kitchen.
Suzu, Leona, Alice, and I—after finishing our own meal—worked together to hand out grilled fish to the gathering kids. Orphans, really.
We'd caught far too many. I'd planned to preserve the leftovers… but looking at their thin arms and hollow cheeks, there was no way I could justify carrying it back instead.
They were starving. It was obvious.
That was why even one fish felt like a miracle to them. And I wasn't giving them just one—I handed out two, sometimes three.
They cried as they ate.
No—almost all of them were crying. At a glance, it had to be ninety percent: little shoulders trembling, mouths full of fish, tears running down dirty cheeks like they couldn't stop them.
"Thank you so much, Miss!"
"I've never eaten fish this delicious before!"
"…sniff… hic… sniffle…" Some couldn't even form words.
Alright, alright. Just eat.
Still… it was a strange feeling. Happy they loved it. And at the same time, sick in my chest—because a single grilled fish shouldn't be enough to make a child cry with gratitude.
Then something occurred to me.
I understood food was scarce in the slum, but… why didn't any of them fish? They wouldn't catch something every time, sure—but when they did, they could eat like this.
When I asked Alice, she gave me a bitter smile.
"You're right. Fishing or gathering would help if they could actually do it," she said quietly. "But all the good spots—shallow water, places where you can reliably catch anything—those are controlled by gangs or groups. They claim it as their territory. If you fish there, they notice, and they shake you down for protection money."
"They reach even there?" I scoffed. "Greedy little parasites. Preying on people for scraps."
"Yeah," Suzu said, eyes cold. "Pathetic. They can't survive without leeching off others."
"A-ahaha…" Alice laughed thinly, breaking into a cold sweat. "Don't say that in town, okay?"
Even as she said it, she kept helping—organizing the line, calming kids down, making sure nobody got shoved aside.
Then I noticed something else.
A few of the kids were exchanging complicated looks. Some were staring at Alice in a way that felt… intent. A couple leaned close to whisper to her, too soft for me to make out.
Secret talk among friends, maybe.
I'd heard there were multiple "groups" among the orphans. It wouldn't be surprising if there were factions even here.
By the time we were done, we'd cooked and served every last fish we'd caught that day.
The kids' bellies were full. Their faces looked different—relaxed, bright. They were talking and laughing now, the air light and warm.
Yeah. Good food really can make people smile.
"Haa…" I exhaled, feeling the pleasant ache of work well done.
Leona and Suzu looked the same—wiping sweat from their brows, wearing the deep satisfaction of people who'd given everything they had.
Alice too… She was smiling gently as she watched the children chatting, her expression soft—almost tender.
But was it my imagination… or did I see a single tear slip from the corner of her eye?
It was dim, and she turned her face away quickly, as if to hide it. When I looked again, it was gone. I couldn't even be sure I'd seen it.
Whatever. Even if I had… she must have been happy, watching everyone else smile. Let's call it that.
And so our second day in the slums of the Non-Affiliated Nation ended with an unexpectedly satisfying exhaustion.
Tomorrow, the Marine patrols would be gone. Then we could leave this country as soon as possible.
With that thought, we returned to the inn, took the same precautions as the night before, and called it a day.
To be continued...