Thinking back to what he had said just a few days ago, Gawain felt an overwhelming urge to slap his own arrogant mouth.
"I can walk sideways through the East Sea…"
Yeah, right.
Invincible in the world?
Enemies from the sky?
What a joke.
Grumbling inwardly at his own hubris, Gawain closed his eyes and sank into deep thought.
Dracule Mihawk, also known as Hawkeye, was the first of the Shichibukai to appear in the original story—and among them, he stood apart. A man whose strength had always been in a league of its own, unmatched by most of his peers.
Even in the later arcs, only a few could bridge the vast gulf between themselves and Mihawk. With the exception of Blackbeard, none of the other Shichibukai truly compared. As for Gekko Moriah, whose power had severely declined, Mihawk might as well have been on another planet entirely.
Even though Gawain had grown significantly stronger, the gap between him and Mihawk remained a chasm—one not easily crossed.
Even with the combined might of Gawain's entire crew, it would be like an ant trying to shake a tree… or a mantis trying to block a chariot. The outcome would only be more needless deaths.
Under these circumstances, the smartest move would have been to abandon the cat brothers, lay low, and avoid the coming storm.
But Gawain couldn't bring himself to do that.
He never saw himself as a good man, but he wasn't heartless either.
Especially after hearing Mihawk say, "Even if I die, I would never betray my crew."
These small-time characters—originally fated to be stepping stones for the Straw Hat Pirates—had had their destinies rewritten by Gawain's presence.
"Companions…"
He murmured the word, his gaze turning resolute.
Half an hour later.
A small boat slipped quietly away from the rear side of Para Island, hidden from view.
Only two people were aboard: Gawain, focused on the nautical chart and the permanent compass as he set their course, and Zoro, manning the sail while gripping the oars.
At this moment, Zoro's eyes gleamed with unrestrained excitement.
"Captain… are you serious?"
"That man—the world's greatest swordsman—he's actually in the East Sea?"
"And… he's after you? Is this the legendary attraction between powerful warriors?"
He couldn't help speculating aloud. But Gawain only shook his head, his expression grave.
"Compared to that guy, I'm nowhere near strong enough."
"Zoro… do you know why I didn't bring the others and chose only you?"
Zoro's expression shifted. His pupils shrank as realization struck.
"Even you aren't confident you can protect them…? He's that strong?"
"Yeah."
Gawain sighed.
"I hate to admit it, but the gap between me and him is a hundred times greater than the one between me and you."
"If I lose this fight, no one else would survive. That's why I didn't bring them."
"But I brought you… because for you, this chance means more than life or death."
A faint grin tugged at Zoro's lips.
"Yeah… after all, he is number one."
"I want to see just how strong a man must be to make a monster like you admit defeat before the fight even begins."
"You'll find out soon enough."
Gawain chuckled lightly—but the next moment, his expression froze.
He glanced at the chart and compass in his hands, then looked up at their direction of travel. His lips twitched.
"…Give me the oars. I should've never let you steer."
"Huh? Why?"
"You somehow managed to row against the route I set. By the time we reach our destination, the cat brothers' bodies will be cold!"
Zoro didn't believe it—until he snatched the chart and took a closer look. His face fell flat.
Damn it!
I really wanted to argue…!
Meanwhile, at the Baratie restaurant—
The cat brothers and the rest of the pirate crew had been shackled and tossed into an empty storage room deep within the ship.
Originally, the red-legged Zeff, the Baratie's head chef and manager, had been unwilling to go along with it. But the strength of the opposing party—and the size of their offer—left him no room to argue. He begrudgingly cast aside his principles for the sake of business.
It was, after all, about making money. Not morality.
Inside the storage room, Sham finished counting heads and breathed a sigh of relief. At least everyone was alive.
He turned toward the guilt-ridden Buchi. The words he wanted to speak—words of blame—dissolved into something softer.
"Buchi… the captain will understand. You didn't have a choice."
"Waaahhh!"
The massive cat-man, weighing over 300 pounds, collapsed onto Sham with a wail. His sheer weight nearly smothered Sham to death before he managed to struggle free, gasping for air.
"…But I still can't forgive myself," Buchi muttered.
Sham patted him on the shoulder silently.
For a long while, the only sound in the storage room was Buchi's soft sobbing. It continued well into the night.
The group had gone an entire day without water. Stomachs grumbled in the silence, and despair hung in the air like fog.
Buchi clutched his round belly, utterly deflated. The others, too, were worn thin and weary, unable to muster the will to speak.
Then, suddenly—
Squeak.
The door creaked open.
Everyone looked up.
A young man with short golden hair stood at the entrance, a massive bowl of fried rice in his hands.
"…It smells so good…"
Buchi's nose twitched. A bit of drool trickled from the corner of his mouth.
The others stared at the stranger, hope lighting up their weary eyes.
Sanji, cigarette dangling from his lips, surveyed the prisoners with a calm gaze.
"A restaurant that lets people go hungry… isn't much of a restaurant."
Without another word, he began dividing the fried rice, handing out portions to everyone.
For a while, the only sound in the storage room was the clinking of spoons against plates.
Buchi devoured his serving in an instant and looked at Sanji with pitiful eyes, holding up his empty plate.
Sanji gave a helpless smile and served him a second helping.
Buchi's squinty eyes curved into crescent moons, looking every bit like a plump, contented cat.
Only Sham hesitated. He held his plate but didn't eat, instead raising his head to look at Sanji.
"…We don't have the money to pay you."
"It's free. Eat up."
Sanji leaned against the wall, puffed on his cigarette, and casually asked:
"Hey."
"What kind of man is your captain, Gawain?"
Back in Raven Harbor, after Grayza left in a rage, Sanji had heard people talk about Gawain. But the stories weren't of fear or hatred—they were stories of gratitude. Of civilians praising a pirate more dependable than the Navy.
And now, Sanji had witnessed with his own eyes how Sam's crew would rather die than betray that man.
He couldn't help feeling curious about the man who had defied expectations—betraying even a princess—and now stood alone.
"Captain?"
Sham was momentarily stunned. Then he put down his plate and looked up, eyes full of respect.
"To be honest, he's a terrifying pirate…"
"But as a comrade… he's the most reliable man I've ever known."
"He gave us—worthless scum—a chance to start over."