Chapter 6 - Cigarette Break
"You're not bad for a so-called doctor", grunted Zoro, as Law ran past him.
The unexpected trio had found themselves thrust into a bizarre mission by the zen-master Admiral Kizaru. Zoro, Koby, and Trafalgar Law were hit with a double whammy – a grueling training regimen and the dubious task of "keeping an eye on the Marines, will you?" as Kizaru nonchalantly mentioned his return in a few days.
For a glorious three days, the trio turned the mundane into the absurd, unleashing a fitness onslaught that made Marine training routines look like a leisurely stroll. They cranked out one hundred push-ups, sit-ups, and ran a mind-boggling 10 km every two hours. What began as a lonely workout party transformed into a spectacle of epic proportions.
Zoro flexed his muscles like a one-man show, Law executed his precise movements in solemn silence, and Koby, resembling a panting panda, somehow persisted, tapping into an unknown well of energy. The terrified Marines - trying to brown-nose or to redempt - caught wind of this fitness carnival and decided to join in. The training grounds morphed into a chaotic exercise revolution, with huffing and puffing soldiers attempting to keep pace with the unstoppable trio. The once-cowardly Marines now looked like a pack of exhausted squirrels trying to outdo each other in a fitness marathon.
Amidst the chaos, a familiar voice interrupted the absurdity. "Yo."
Before them - he was not there a few seconds ago ! - Borsalino lounged in a comfortable chair, his ever-present nonchalance undisturbed. With a bag of chips in hand, he reclined, seemingly unaffected by the fitness carnival unfolding before him. His sunglasses reflected the spectacle of Zoro, Koby, and Trafalgar Law fervently engaging in push-ups, their muscles working in rhythmic unison.
"You" - he pointed at Law "Dark Sasuke - You'll spare with Pinkie, showing him the ropes of "I-ll-try-not-to-die-immediatly-in-a-fight". He munched on another chips. "And mono-dimensional random swordsman - we are going to a restaurant. Yay!". Zoro had no time to ask questions as he was grabbed and thrown into the air.
The lively atmosphere of Baratie buzzed with the clatter of dishes and the hum of patrons enjoying their meals. Patty, the burly chef, prepared to welcome two new customers in his typical gruff manner, ready to assert the restaurant's renowned hospitality. However, just as Patty was about to unleash his customary gruff greeting - well, asking if they were poor-, a sudden commotion disrupted the routine.
In a flash of movement, Zeff, the venerable head chef and owner, intervened with a swift and unexpected kick. Patty, caught off guard, found himself unceremoniously thrown out of the way. The patrons paused mid-bite, glancing at the scene with a mix of surprise and curiosity.
"Sanji!" Zeff called out, motioning to the green-haired man and the one in the yellow suit. The sickly appearance of the green-haired customer did not escape Zeff's keen eyes, but it was not him that prompted him to act fast : what was an admiral doing here ?
Sanji, always the vigilant sous-chef, nodded in acknowledgment. He couldn't shake the feeling that Zeff recognized the man in the yellow suit, but the unspoken rule in the kitchen was clear – the boss's business was the boss's business. Suppressing his curiosity, Sanji took charge, saluting the newcomers with a courteous smile. If they were the shitty old man's friends, it would not do to be discourteous.
"Welcome to Baratie. I hope you find our hospitality to your liking," Sanji said with a flourish as he escorted them to their seats. The patrons, now back to their meals, watched the unfolding events with a mixture of intrigue and anticipation, curious about the connection between Zeff and the newcomers. The lively atmosphere of Baratie continued, the clatter of dishes and hum of conversation gradually returning to the forefront, leaving the unexpected commotion as a brief but unforgettable interlude in the restaurant's bustling narrative.
At least, Sanji told himself, this duo was more agreeable than the mast he had had to serve two days ago. Marine Lieutenant Fullbody and his companion, Moodie. He had served them proficiently, but his disdain for Fullbody had been apparent, leading to the Marine's humiliation in front of his date and fellow patrons. Full of wounded pride, Fullbody had challenged Sanji to a fight, only to have the tables turned as Sanji, witnessing the Marine's wasteful frustration, delivered a beating. Zeff, the captain, intervened with a reprimand. However, a new twist emerged. Gin, a prisoner once captured by Fullbody's crew, escaped and sought sustenance. Denied by the other chefs and expelled from the restaurant, the starving pirate pleaded for food. While his comrades turned him away, Sanji, embodying compassion, provided him with a meal that he devoured gratefully.
Now, everything was back to normal and…
"Sanji! We need your help!" Gin's voice echoed through the restaurant as he entered, supporting the weakened form of Don Krieg. They were back !
Sanji, recognizing the danger that accompanied the notorious pirate, furrowed his brow. "Gin, what's the meaning of this?"
"He's hurt, Sanji. Starving. We had nowhere else to turn," Gin pleaded, desperation etched across his face.
Sanji hesitated only for a moment, his gaze shifting between Gin and the weary Don Krieg. As the chefs looked on in disbelief, Sanji set to work, preparing a hearty meal for the unexpected guests. The aroma of food filled the air as the once famished crew indulged in the provisions. Yet, as Krieg's strength returned, a malevolent glint flickered in his eyes.
"You fools thought I came here for charity?" Krieg's voice resonated with menace, startling the chefs and freezing the lively atmosphere.
Sanji, his expression hardening, retorted, "We showed you kindness. Don't mistake it for weakness."
Krieg, fueled by a renewed vigor, smirked. "Kindness? In this world, it's a weakness. Now, I demand sustenance for my crew. And your boat too ! I'll take the Baratie ! Obey, or face the consequences."
"Yeah, you'll definitely need another boat", said a deep voice.
"He…He is back, Captain Krieg !"
What ? Captain Krieg turned around in horror.
Hawkeye was back. In a moment of sheer boredom, the swordsman nonchalantly sliced through boats with his razor-sharp blade. The wreckage floated aimlessly, a testament to his casual display of skill. Don Krieg, bewildered, demanded an explanation.
"Why'd you do that? What did we do to you ?" Krieg questioned.
Hawkeye, his expression unchanged, simply replied, "I am bored." The sharp edge of his apathy cut through the air, leaving an unsettling aura of indifference in his wake.
The bitterness in Zoro's mouth tasted like ashes as he observed Mihawk's effortless decimation of boats. Each merciless stroke was a cold reminder of the gaping void that separated their abilities. He had to surpass this living legend, not just for himself, but for the vow etched into the core of his very being.
"I swore it, Kuina," he muttered, the words devoured by the sea breeze. "I promised to be the strongest swordsman."
The echoes of his confrontation with Kizaru resonated in the recesses of his mind. A brutal truth had dawned then – the gap in strength was a vast abyss, clawing at the edges of his pride. Yet, fueled by the unyielding fire of his vow, Zoro refused to be swallowed by the shadows of doubt.
Then, as if the sea itself forewarned of impending doom, Mihawk's voice sliced through the air, proclaiming,
"I. Am. Bored."
Shivers raced down Zoro's spine. The casual words, dripping with an unsettling indifference, sent a bone-chilling mes…
Zoro's edgy musing were interrupted as he felt the hand of Kizaru catching him by the vest. No…He would not…
"Hey, Mihawk, if you are bored, catch that ! But don't hurt him too much ! I need him as comic relief ! "
The pirates and cooks watched, bewildered, as they witnessed the green-haired swordsman unleashing a string of creative curses. It was as if he'd enrolled in a master class of expletives, as the yellow-suited man Yeeted (with a capital Y) him into the sky towards Mihawk.
The swordsman's airborne trajectory resembled a slapstick routine. Impressing.
The air resonated briefly with the swordsman's colorful language before he landed before the Strongest Swordsman. Resolute, the green haired man put a…Bandana ? What was the duo's problem with fashion ? A Yellow Suit, and then a bandana...And then, he started fighting…well, miserably losing against Hawkeye.
Amidst the chaos, Zeff approached the admiral, crawling as his wooden leg had been broken. He watched helplessly as his restaurant was destroyed by the pirates and as his adoptive son, after defeating Gin, was miserably tossed around by Don Krieg's explosive chupa-chups with a blade.
"Why…Why are you not stopping this horror ?".
Sanji landed, bruised, on the chair just next to Kizaru. The admiral, nonchalantly sipping his tea, glanced at both Sengoku and Zeff. He took another leisurely sip before extending the cup toward Sanji, who, battered and hurt, barely registered the gesture.
"You know," Kizaru started, his voice carrying the same languid tone as his movements, "I believe in responsibility. Actions have consequences."
Zeff's eyes narrowed with a mix of frustration and desperation. "Please…Do something…" he implored, gesturing towards the chaos unfolding in his beloved restaurant.
Kizaru, seemingly unfazed, continued sipping his tea. "Sanji fed the pirates. Admirable, really. But," he said, pausing to hand the cup to the battered chef, "he has to live with the consequences."
Sanji, battered and bruised, felt the weight of Zeff's pleading gaze. In that moment, he understood that the stranger possessed the strength to quell the chaos consuming the Baratie. Swallowing his pride, he approached Kizaru, a desperate plea on his lips.
"Please, I'll do anything," Sanji implored, his voice tinged with an uncharacteristic vulnerability. "Just stop all of this madness."
Kizaru, still sipping his tea with an air of detached amusement, looked at Sanji with mild interest. "Anything?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow.
Sanji hesitated for a moment, then nodded resolutely. "Yes, anything. Just save my family and the Baratie."
A subtle smirk played on Kizaru's lips as he posed a seemingly absurd question, "You would even join the Marines?"
Sanji's eyes met Kizaru's, a spark of determination flickering within. "Yes," he replied, the word carrying the weight of sacrifice. "I'll join the Marines. Just stop this. Please"
Kizaru's amusement deepened, and he finally set his tea aside. "Very well, Chef Sanji. It seems we have an agreement. I shall Yeet the Tea Cup".
With a yawn still echoing, Kizaru lobbed his tea cup in the general direction of Don Krieg. The cup found its mark, landing right on Krieg's forehead. The pirate captain collapsed in an exaggerated fashion, an expression of utter confusion frozen on his face.
As if someone hit the pause button, the entire battlefield came to a screeching halt. Swords hung mid-swing, explosions halted, and combatants on both sides stood wide-eyed, wondering if they had just stumbled into a bizarre comedy skit.
In this unexpected intermission, Kizaru, still yawning, took another leisurely sip of his tea. The onlookers, exchanged incredulous glances. Even the dog in the corner looked momentarily startled before deciding it wasn't worth losing beauty sleep over.
Kizaru, with an air of casual indifference, snapped his fingers. All the pirates on the Baratie dropped like a synchronized troupe of collapsing clowns.
The scene, bizarre and slightly slapstick, left Kizaru standing amidst the slumbering pirates. With a half-hearted sigh, he stood up, adjusting his sunglasses. "Sanji, my boy, take your time to recover. I'll swing by in a few days to pick you up…Uh, no…Better taking you now" he declared, as if planning a routine coffee date rather than orchestrating a haki-induced nap. A lethal nap. He grabbed with his right hand the flabbergasted cook and he generated a ray of light and teleported away in the most nonchalant manner possible.
In the blink of an eye, he found himself at the epicenter of a dramatic showdown between Zoro and Mihawk.
Timing his entrance like a character from a poorly rehearsed play, Kizaru arrived just as Zoro, in the midst of a dramatic monologue, declared, "I would rather die than be dishonored!"
In a move that defied the seriousness of the moment, Kizaru reached out, casually grabbing Zoro by the scruff of his neck with his left hand. Turning to Mihawk, he offered a mock salute and said, "Nice seeing you, Mihawk," before teleporting away with Zoro in tow.
The absurdity of the scene left Mihawk momentarily flabbergasted, as if questioning whether he had just been part of an elaborate prank. Why was Kizaru so short ? Meanwhile, Kizaru and Zoro had already disappeared into a burst of light, leaving behind a trail of confusion and a rather absurd chapter in the annals of pirate history.
Law and Koby, in the middle of fighting - well, Law in the middle of totally destroying the poor Koby - felt themselves grabbed by something.
"Yo"
"Fuck…Not again ! Damn you old maaaaaaaaaaaaaan"
"Public relations (PR) is a strategic communication discipline that focuses on building and maintaining positive relationships between an organization and its publics. The main principles of PR involve creating a favorable image, fostering open communication, and managing the dissemination of information. It plays a crucial role in shaping public perception, enhancing credibility, and building trust. Effective public relations can contribute to an organization's success by promoting a positive reputation, handling crises efficiently, and ensuring transparent communication with stakeholders. By utilizing various communication channels, including media relations, social media, and community engagement, PR professionals work to convey accurate and compelling messages that align with the organization's goals and values. Ultimately, PR is essential for establishing strong connections with the public and managing the overall reputation of the Marines".
Captain Smoker pondered these words of the Little Yellow Book. Were Kizaru exploits only PR ? Of course not ! He seethed thinking of the corrupt Captain Morgan. Smoker reclined in his chair, the wisps of smoke from his cigar curling around him as he immersed himself in the contents of the Little Yellow Book.
Just as he delved deeper into his contemplation, a marine abruptly burst into his office. "Captain Smoker, sir! Tashigi is in a fight, and it looks bad! She's losing!"
Surprised, Smoker's stern expression morphed into one of concern. In an instant, he transformed into smoke, and, a few seconds later, landed on his motorcycle. With a roar, he sped out of his office, leaving nothing but swirling smoke in his wake.
As he arrived at the scene, the sight before him was nothing short of bizarre. Tashigi, his subordinate, was engaged in a fierce battle with a green-haired swordsman. The swordsman, in the midst of the clash, was simultaneously engaged in a heated argument with a yellow-haired man dressed in a black suit. A few feet away, another dark-haired man was administering swift hits to a pink-haired boy, while frantically shouting about the fact that "Kizaru's did not announce the end of the training".
Smoker's eyebrows furrowed in perplexity. He brought his motorcycle to a screeching halt and dispersed into his solid form. "What in the name of Justice is going on here?" he grumbled, ready to unravel the peculiar chaos that awaited him.
"Yo, Captain Smoker ".
The Yellow Monkey was in front of him! Admiral Kizaru in the Flesh !
Admiral Kizaru ! Eating chips ! In a deckchair. While looking as Tashigi, a Marine, being trashed by a green-haired swordsman. Who beat her while looking at the blonde guy. And Admiral Kizaru not doing anything.
He twitched.