The endless sea stretched before them as Ryan's ship glided smoothly across the water.
At the stern, BABE stood before the helm, his massive frame nearly blending into the wheel. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, his hands gripping the wooden spokes steadily.
Under the shade of an umbrella on the deck, Mikita lay sprawled on a white lounge chair, clad in a bright pink bikini. The triangular cups accentuated her ample curves, while the tied bottoms barely covered her hips. Her long legs were crossed at the edge of the chair, a delicate silver chain dangling from her ankle.
Her voluminous golden hair spilled loosely over the chair, the ends ruffled slightly by the sea breeze. Sunglasses perched on her nose reflected the shimmering waves, and the lemon-shaped earrings swayed gently with each breath.
In the center of the deck, Ryan toyed with a baseball bat, tilting his chin toward the dachshund Rasu. "Throw me a ball."
Rasu immediately stopped what he was doing, sneezed once, and—pop—a baseball shot out of his mouth with a sharp whistle. Ryan twisted his wrist, swinging the bat with a whoosh. A crisp crack echoed as the ball was sent flying in a silver streak toward the distance.
A few seconds later, the ball emitted a mechanical click-clack before exploding into a burst of sparks, its fragments raining into the sea.
"Not bad," Ryan mused, hefting the bat with a smirk.
Just then, the cabin door creaked open, and Zala stepped out. She wore a light blue casual outfit—a loose short-sleeved shirt tucked into high-waisted cropped pants, accentuating her slender waist and rounded hips.
Her signature blue afro was tightly wrapped in a matching headscarf, with only a few stray strands peeking out at her forehead. Black-framed glasses rested on her nose, softening her usually sharp gaze into something more studious and composed.
Zala carried a tray with two glasses of orange juice, the ice clinking softly against the sides. She swayed exaggeratedly toward Ryan and offered him one. "Freshly squeezed, Captain."
Ryan took the glass and downed it in one gulp, watching as Zala turned away. The loose collar of her shirt revealed delicate collarbones, and even the relaxed fabric couldn't hide the curves beneath. Strands of hair escaped the headscarf, swaying with each step.
At the bow, DAZ BONEZ remained seated in silence, as if detached from everything. Only his shadowed eyes occasionally flickered toward the distant horizon.
Leaning against the railing, Ryan nudged Rasu with his foot. The little dog whined, wiggling its rear before eagerly trotting back to nuzzle his shoe with a wet nose, tail wagging furiously.
Days like these, drifting leisurely at sea, were far more entertaining than soaring through the skies.
Then, the sound of flapping wings came from above.
A news bird circled down, its gray-white feathers ruffling. A tiny hat perched on its head, a rolled-up newspaper clamped in its beak, and a small canvas bag dangling from its claws—the quintessential "newsboy" look. It tilted its head and chirped twice at the crew.
Zala set down her tray, fishing out a 100-Belly coin and jingling it.
The bird immediately swooped closer. Zala dropped the coin into the pouch around its neck, and with a cheerful chirp, it released the newspaper into her hands before flapping away.
Unfurling the paper, Zala's calm expression fractured the moment her eyes landed on the headline. Her fingers trembled slightly, crumpling the edges, and her glasses slid down her nose.
"What's wrong?" Ryan asked lazily, noticing her reaction.
"The paper… it's reporting that the Captain has become one of the new Seven Warlords," Zala said, lifting her gaze with a complicated look. "It says… you're Golden Lion Shiki's disciple and that you killed him with your own hands."
At the bow, DAZ BONEZ's eyes snapped open, a ripple of shock passing through his usually impassive gaze as he stared at Ryan.
Golden Lion Shiki—a legendary Pirate on par with Roger and Whitebeard. And the Captain killed him?!
"There's more," Zala continued, swallowing hard. "Hawkeye Mihawk is quoted saying the Captain is a swordsman worthy of challenging his title as the 'World's Strongest Swordsman'… And the article also mentions how you dealt with Crocodile."
"Huh?!" Mikita shot up from her lounge chair, sunglasses slipping to her chin as she gaped at Ryan. "Captain, you're that insane?! You killed Golden Lion?! Even Hawkeye acknowledges you?! How come I never knew any of this?!"
"You've been hiding way too much, Captain! If I'd known you were this strong, I would've been serving you tea and water every single day!" Mikita jingled her lemon earrings, bouncing over to Ryan in a flurry of excitement.
Even BABE froze at the helm, his grip on the spokes faltering for a second. But words failed him, so he just stared at Ryan, his expression screaming, "So this is the kind of Captain you are?"
Ryan found their reactions amusing. He plucked the newspaper from Zala's hands, skimmed it, then crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the sea.
"Newspapers love exaggerating," he said with a shrug, tone casual. "But… they're not entirely wrong."
The fact that even the Golden Lion incident had been dug up proved the World Government's intelligence network was no joke.
This kind of publicity was nothing more than a "praise-to-kill" tactic—meant to provoke two types of people. First, the reckless upstarts who'd see phrases like "challenging Hawkeye" and "slaying legends" and come swarming like sharks to blood, eager to make a name for themselves by taking him down.
Second, the established powerhouses who might find the hype around this "upstart" too outrageous to ignore, itching to test his mettle themselves.
The Government was killing three birds with one stone—using his "infamy" to intimidate Pirates, letting others gauge his strength, and stirring the pot to see how much chaos they could create. A clever scheme, but nothing in this world came for free.
"Not entirely wrong?!" Mikita had already latched onto Ryan's arm, pressing her soft body against him. The thin fabric of her bikini did little to mask the weight of her curves against his arm. "This is basically legendary status, Captain! How could you keep this from us? From now on, I'm your number one fangirl!"
Her blunt admiration carried the unspoken law of these seas—worship of the strong was an instinct carved into their bones.
"Oh? Number one fangirl?" Ryan smirked, amused by her clinginess. He suddenly wrapped an arm around Mikita's waist, pulling her close. Through the thin fabric, he could feel the slender curve of her waist. His voice dripped with lazy amusement. "Then I'll have to check if you're being sincere."
"Mean… Captain's always bullying me." Mikita's cheeks flushed, but she didn't resist, instead snuggling deeper into his hold. Her body moved willingly as Ryan guided her toward the cabin, the strings of her tied bikini cinching her waist, every step swaying enticingly.
The rest of the crew carried on as usual—Zala tidied the table, BABE kept his eyes on the horizon, and DAZ BONEZ didn't even blink.
Only Rasu trotted after them for a few steps before Ryan gently nudged him away with his foot. Whining, the dog plopped back down in his spot.