"Welcome, great heroes who have braved the rough waves of the sea!"
Whiskey Peak’s banquet hall was nothing less than paradise on earth.
No sooner had the prison ship dropped anchor in the harbor than the mayor, saxophone in hand, along with nuns and townspeople bearing bouquets, came pouring out in droves. They ushered us into carriages and led us to a grand mansion at the heart of town.
The tables were piled high with whole roast pigs, steaming pies, enormous beer barrels, and whiskey casks stacked nearly all the way to the ceiling.
"Drink! Pour it down! All the food and liquor tonight is on our village!"
The village girls filled our glasses with seductive smiles, while the jaunty music of the band tickled our ears.
But amid that lavish festival, the sharply divided state of our pirate crew was bizarre beyond words.
Slide.
In the darkest corner of the table, Kuro of a Thousand Plans had not laid so much as a fingertip on the wineglass before him. As was his habit, he casually pushed up his glasses with the heel of his palm. His cold, sunken eyes dissected every movement of the waiters offering drinks and every subtle exchange of glances between them.
"...There is the faintest trace of sleeping medicine beneath the smell of alcohol. And the calluses on those men’s palms were not made by farm tools, but by gripping sword hilts."
Beside Kuro’s low murmur, Don Krieg, arms folded, gave a snort.
"Hmph. The obvious tricks of third-rate con artists. I led a fleet of fifty ships, and I’ve sent hundreds of rats like these to the bottom of the sea—rats who tried to poison free drinks and bait men with clumsy pretty faces."
Keeping his bandage-wrapped bulk ramrod straight, Krieg casually covered the plate of meat before him with a napkin.
Arlong, lounging crookedly by a window toward the bow, was no different. Sniffing with his enormous sawblade nose and flashing savage eyes, the Fish-Man cracked his neck.
"The stench of gunpowder and blood is revolting. I knew it from the moment these inferior creatures started hailing us as saviors and heroes. Shall I smash their heads in and toss them into the sea right now?"
The three villains who had ruled East Blue had not touched a single drop of alcohol, coldly sharpening their killing intent as they saw straight through the trap.
But just then—
"Kyahahahaha!! Excellent! Absolutely splendid! Bring me more, you bastards!!"
Bang! Gulp, gulp, pah!
A red figure sat at the center of the table, noisily chugging beer and spraying foam everywhere.
It was Buggy the Clown.
He had been utterly carried away by the townspeople’s excessive flattery. He clutched huge chunks of meat in both hands, while one detached hand tore the stopper off a beer barrel and poured it directly down his throat. His bright red nose had become so flushed from drink that it looked ready to burst, and his half-lidded eyes were already swimming aimlessly through the air.
"Naturally, my dazzling fame reaches even the Grand Line! Hey! Curly-haired old man with the saxophone! Fire off another celebratory cannon blast!!"
The faces of the three beasts soured as they watched him.
"...Just as I expected."
Kuro pressed a hand to his forehead and let out a deep sigh, while Krieg clicked his tongue.
"Bringing that idiotic clown along as a crewmate was a mistake from the start. He would probably giggle even while his head was being cut off."
"Hey, that fool has always been a fool, so fine..."
Arlong pointed a blue finger toward the opposite end of the banquet hall. The eyes of the three men all turned in unison.
Then their eyes nearly popped out in horrified disbelief.
"...What the hell is that bastard doing now?!"
Atop the largest whiskey cask in the center of the banquet hall—
I had my battered tricorn hat perched crookedly on my head, a giant whiskey ladle in one hand, and was performing a precarious tap dance along the rim of the cask.
Clack, thud, thud, wobble.
"Oh... Goddess of the Sea! The rum on this island has a truly magnificent and tantalizing aroma!"
Empty bottles rolled across the floor as though I had already emptied three or four barrels, and my eyes were completely glazed over.
"You tooooo?!"
Unable to endure it any longer, Krieg kicked away from the table and roared.
"Where has that terrifying bastard gone—the one who knocked Smoker’s jaw sideways and leaped over a whale? Why are you burying your nose in the free liquor of these third-rate con artists and passing out drunk as well?!"
"You lot... take life far too seriously, bearded friend."
I swayed as I slipped off the cask with a thud.
My steps tangled completely, and I seemed about to pitch forward. Yet with the tip of my boot, I flicked an empty wineglass rolling across the floor into the air, catching every last falling drop of whiskey in it before tossing it down my throat.
A drunkard’s movements, yet with a bizarre sense of balance that refused to collapse.
I staggered over and slung an arm around the shoulders of Buggy, who was sprawled across the table and drooling.
"Look here, red-nosed friend. Those fellows are pitiful ascetics who know nothing of the greatness of free liquor."
"Hehehe... Jack... you’re a good fellow... praising my red nose... another glass of strawberry juice..."
"Who said strawberry? It is tomato. Come now, a man of the sea must empty his glass—that is proper manners!"
The two drunkards threw their arms around each other’s shoulders, clinked their rum bottles together, and began humming a dreadful sailor’s song.
Behind Kuro’s glasses, his eyes gleamed murderously as he watched the disgraceful scene.
"Mad drunken bastard. So this is the price of bringing that empty-headed idiot aboard as captain. If those villagers draw their blades tonight, we will offer up his head first and seize the ship."
"Agreed."
Krieg ground his teeth, and Arlong twisted his lips into a grin as well.
As the beasts waited for the perfect opportunity to abandon their careless captain and take control of the ship, the night grew steadily deeper.
Two in the morning.
One by one, the candles in the banquet hall went out, and the boisterous music of the band abruptly stopped.
Within the mansion, only Buggy’s thunderous drunken snoring and my sleep-talking, as I lay sprawled across the table and breathed in ragged bursts, echoed through the rooms.
Kuro, Krieg, and Arlong had already vanished into the darkness without leaving a trace.
Click.
Breaking the silence, the heavy doors of the tightly sealed banquet hall opened without a sound.
Backlit by the dim moonlight, dozens of villagers who had worn such pleasant smiles during the day slipped into the room as pitch-black shadows.
But they carried neither bouquets nor bottles of liquor.
Axes gleaming coldly beneath the moon, black flintlock muskets, and rope.
"Hehehe... They fell for it perfectly."
The saxophone-playing mayor who had fired celebratory cannon blasts during the day chewed on his cigar and smiled sinisterly.
"We had been waiting for those Straw Hat bastards, but who knew an upstart with a ten-million-Beri bounty and East Blue’s big names would come rolling in all at once? If we hand even that prison ship over to headquarters, we will get an enormous reward."
Behind him, a powerful woman carrying a massive cross and men holding umbrellas tightened their grips on their weapons, closing the encirclement around Buggy and me as we lay sprawled there in drunken stupors.
"Cut off their breathing. Make them regret, in hell, ever coming to Baroque Works’ hunting ground."
At the very instant bluish blades were raised in unison toward my sleeping neck and Buggy’s crown—
Comments (0)
Please log in to leave a comment. Login or Register