SWAY-SWAY! The Baratie rocked on the restless sea, its fish-shaped hull a defiant beacon against the darkening waves, glowing like a stubborn star under the lantern light. Inside, the restaurant roared like a pirate shanty come to life—CLINK-CLANK! went glasses, HA-HA-HA! bellowed sailors, and SIZZLE-POP! hissed pans from the kitchen, filling the air with the scent of frying fish and salty dreams. Waiters twirled through the chaos, trays piled high with steaming lobster and frothy ale, dodging rowdy patrons with the grace of acrobats dancing on a tightrope. The memory of Silas Daytime's lightning-fast takedown of Don Krieg's goons hung in the air like gunpowder smoke, a fleeting spark in the Baratie's relentless pulse. GRRRR! Outside, the sea snarled, a storm coiling like a beast ready to pounce, its growl shaking the horizon.
The Straw Hats' table was a hurricane of chaos, a whirlwind that could rival the storm outside. CHOMP-CHOMP-CHOMP! Luffy, straw hat flopping like a flag in a gale, devoured crab legs like a human whirlpool, his grin brighter than the lanterns overhead. "MEAT! MORE MEAT! THIS PLACE IS PARADISE!" he hollered, bits of shrimp flying like confetti, splattering a nearby sailor who didn't even flinch. Zoro, three swords glinting at his side like silent sentinels, swigged sake, muttering, "Tch, louder than a Sea King's roar." His green hair caught the light, and his scowl deepened with every shout. Nami, orange hair blazing like a sunset, clutched her berries, eyes sharp as a hawk's as she schemed to "lose" the bill in the chaos. "Luffy, slow down, or you're scrubbing dishes till we hit the Grand Line!" she snapped, her voice cutting through the din. Usopp, waving a spoon like a war banner, spun a tale to a gaggle of wide-eyed diners: "And then, the Great Captain Usopp wrestled a sea serpent with one hand tied behind my back, using only my legendary courage!" A grizzled sailor snorted, but a starry-eyed kid at the next table gasped, "No way! Really?!"
In his shadowed corner by the porthole, Silas Daytime sat alone, his coffee cold, black as the sea outside, its steam long gone. His crimson hair flickered in the lantern light like dying embers, and his sabre and flintlock gleamed against the table, quiet but deadly, like a predator at rest. Diners whispered, waiters hesitated, drawn to his dangerous charm like moths to a flame that might burn them. Nami's gaze flicked over, her merchant's mind ticking like a well-oiled clock. That precision against Krieg's men… he's no drifter. Those weapons scream "bounty." Usopp, catching her stare, hissed, "Nami, don't! He's a cursed assassin! Those weapons are probably possessed by demons!" She swatted him, rolling her eyes. "Quiet, Usopp! He's trouble, but the kind that might pay big if we play it right."
Silas stared at the sea, the storm's growl stirring a restlessness he couldn't shake. Luffy's laughter—bright, reckless, unstoppable—cut through the noise like a lighthouse beam, tugging at a spark he'd buried deep under years of blood and betrayal. I don't trust in legends. But I trust what I see. A memory flared, vivid as a flame in the dark, pulling him back to a time when hope wasn't just a word.
"Mother, how special is the Warrior of Liberation? Can he do more cool things?" young Silas asked, eyes wide as the ocean, clutching a stick like a sword, swinging it at imaginary foes.
His mother laughed, ruffling his hair, her voice warm as a summer tide. "Hm, maybe! I can tell you he has a super cool ability!"
"Really?! Tell me!" he squealed, bouncing on his toes.
"He has the power to make people feel hope… and believe again."
The words burned now, sharp as a blade across his heart. Silas's eyes drifted to Luffy, shouting about meat, his grin a sunbeam splitting the restaurant's chaos. That's impossible, he thought, jaw tight, fingers clenching his cup. The moment I'm near him, hear his laugh, see his eyes and that smile… my childhood dream stirs, something I buried long ago? Mother… no. I need to watch him. The coffee's bitterness anchored him, a lifeline against the tide of memory. He'd forsaken heroes years ago, his sabre and pistol his only truth.
CRASH! The Baratie's doors flew open, and a voice boomed, thick with arrogance, cutting through the din like a badly played trumpet. "Behold! The Baratie, graced by Lieutenant Ironfist Fullbody, terror of the East Blue!" A Marine strutted in, uniform gleaming like polished gold, blond hair slicked back, a nervous young woman clinging to his arm. Fullbody's smirk screamed for applause, his chest puffed out like a peacock's, but his date, fanning herself frantically, looked like she'd rather dive into the sea and swim to Reverse Mountain.
Luffy's head shot up, shrimp dangling from his mouth like a trophy. "Whoa! Shiny guy! Pirate?!" Zoro snorted, sake cup pausing mid-sip, his eyes half-lidded but sharp. "Marine. All mouth, no muscle." Nami's eyes narrowed at the Marine insignia, a predatory glint flashing. An ego with a wallet. Jackpot. Usopp, half-under the table, whispered, "Bet Gunblade Guy blasts him before we even get dessert!"
Fullbody plopped down at a table near the Straw Hats, snapping his fingers like a self-proclaimed king. "Waiter! Your finest wine, fit for a Marine lieutenant!" He grinned at his date, voice booming across the restaurant. "I've sunk pirate ships from here to Loguetown, my dear! No one commands respect like Ironfist Fullbody!" Diners glanced over, some rolling their eyes, others smirking at the spectacle.
Sanji sauntered up, cigarette glowing like a tiny star, blond hair falling over one eye in a practiced swoop. He poured wine with a twirl, smirking like a fox who'd just raided a henhouse. "Micqueot red, 1519. Fine for a… humble palate." ZING! The jab hit like a harpoon, and the restaurant erupted in chuckles, a wave of snickers rippling through the crowd.
Fullbody's face twitched, a vein pulsing on his forehead like a ticking bomb. "HUMBLE?! This is a 1517 northern vintage, you insolent cook!" He swirled his glass with exaggerated flair, his date nodding awkwardly, her fan fluttering like a trapped butterfly caught in a storm.
Sanji leaned in, grin sharp as a freshly honed cleaver. "South side, 1519. I know wine, and I know posers when I smell 'em." BOOM! Diners roared with laughter, slamming mugs on tables, and Fullbody's cheeks turned beet red, his eyes bulging like a fish out of water. His date giggled, then clapped a hand over her mouth, her fan drooping in embarrassment.
Luffy nudged Zoro, his grin stretching ear to ear. "That cook's awesome! He's joining my crew, no question!" Zoro grunted, a faint smirk tugging his lips as he sipped his sake. "Cocky bastard. Might be worth crossing swords with him." Nami groaned, rubbing her temples with a dramatic sigh. "Why's it always a circus with you idiots? Can't we eat in peace for once?" Usopp hissed, still half-under the table, "That Marine's gonna sink us all, I'm telling you!"
Silas watched, his smirk faint as a ghost, barely touching his lips. Small man, big mouth. Fullbody's kind—petty, desperate for respect—was as old as the sea itself. Luffy's grin tugged harder, that spark flaring in his chest like a coal refusing to die. Impossible.
Fullbody, fuming, slipped a hand under the table with a sneaky rustle-rustle!. A quick motion, and he shoved his soup bowl forward with a theatrical flourish. "WHAT'S THIS?!" he roared, pointing at a wriggling fly floating in the broth. "A FILTHY INSECT?! THIS PLACE IS A SHAM!" GASP! Diners froze, forks clattering, and his date looked mortified, her fan falling limp as she shrank into her seat.
Sanji leaned in, mock-serious, cigarette smoke curling like a dragon's breath. "Oh? Batchee's swimming lessons didn't pay off. Pick it out, Marine. Soup's still top-notch." His eyes glinted like polished steel, daring Fullbody to push it further, his grin a challenge wrapped in charm.
THUD! The room held its breath, the air thick with anticipation. Silas set his coffee down, the cup clinking softly, and glided across the floor in three silent strides, his boots barely whispering against the wood. He loomed over Fullbody's table, his presence a cold wind that silenced whispers and made hearts skip. "Dropped something," he drawled, his voice low and bored, holding up the crushed fly—Batchee—between his fingers like a damning piece of evidence. His sharp, mischievous eyes pierced Fullbody's soul, cutting through his bravado like a blade through paper. "Sloppy trick."
Fullbody froze, sweat beading on his brow, his bravado crumbling like a sandcastle under a wave. His mouth opened, then closed, his eyes darting like a trapped animal's. His hand clenched into a trembling fist, veins bulging, his face twisting with rage and humiliation as the restaurant's eyes bore down on him. DRIP-DRIP! Sweat rolled down his temple, his slicked hair starting to fray, and his date shrank further into her seat, her fan now a forgotten prop. The air crackled, the storm outside echoing the tension within. Would he snap? Would he swing? Or would he crumble under the weight of Silas's gaze?