The LC-02 drifted lazily through an uncharted stretch of the Grand Line, like a leaf carried by the current.
Renzo was sprawled out on a deck chair, sleeping soundly, while Potts nervously held the helm, doing his best to keep the ship heading in what his Commodore called "the quiet direction."
The sea was calm, the sunlight was warm, everything perfectly aligned with Renzo's highest ideal: "The best day is one where I don't have to leave the ship."
That peace lasted until a rich aroma wafted across the sea breeze, a mouthwatering mix of roasted meat, spices, and a faint hint of liquor.
"Hmm…?" Renzo's nose twitched twice. Even in his sleep, his sense for fine food remained sharp.
He slowly opened one eye and followed the scent.
Not far off the starboard side, a massive, luxuriously decorated three-masted pirate ship, easily several times larger than the LC-02, floated silently. Even the figurehead was gilded in gold.
Its sails were torn in several places, the masts bore cracks, and the deck was littered with motionless bodies. It looked like the crew had just gone through a brutal mutiny or battle, leaving the ship eerily silent.
But the irresistible smell was definitely coming from there.
Renzo's eyes opened fully, an unusual glint of interest flashing within them.
"Potts."
"Yes, Commodore!" Potts snapped to attention immediately.
"That ship." Renzo tilted his chin toward it.
"It smells… delicious. Let's take a look."
Potts nearly jumped out of his skin. "Commodore! That looks like a pirate ship! It could be dangerous!"
"...Noisy?" Renzo asked flatly.
Potts strained his ears. "Uh… no, sir. Not a sound. They might all be asleep, or…"
"Then it's fine. Bring us over."
Renzo reclined again, though it was obvious his attention was already captured by the scent of food.
Potts swallowed hard and cautiously maneuvered the LC-02 closer.
When the two ships came alongside, the pirate ship remained utterly silent.
Potts grabbed a weapon and nervously climbed aboard to scout. Moments later, he came rushing back pale-faced.
"C-Commodore! Everyone on that ship's either dead or unconscious! Looks like they fought each other! But the kitchen's full of high-grade ingredients, and there's a whole wine cellar!"
Renzo finally stood up and stepped onto the ship, whose nameplate read Gourmand.
Ignoring the bodies scattered across the deck, he let his nose guide him unerringly toward the kitchen.
When he pushed open the door, even Potts, who had seen the Marine's mess hall, was stunned.
There was marbled wagyu beef, a whole roasted lamb, rare fruits from the South Seas, mountains of premium cheeses, and an entire cask of rich, fragrant black rum.
Clearly, the captain of this ship was a man of refined and expensive taste.
Renzo nodded in satisfaction. "Move it."
Short and direct.
Potts instantly became a one-man cargo crew, hauling boxes of food back to the LC-02.
Renzo, meanwhile, found the captain's quarters, complete with a massive velvet-covered bed.
He tested it. Exceptionally soft.
"This too," he said.
By the time Potts had nearly emptied the kitchen and was debating how to disassemble the bed, he discovered a sealed waterproof bundle in a hidden compartment.
Opening it revealed a yellowed, finely drawn parchment, a map marked with intricate sea routes and an island illustration, annotated with ancient writing.
"Commodore! Look at this!" Potts rushed it over to Renzo, who was currently examining a ham, trying to decide where to bite first.
Renzo took the parchment with one hand and gave it a cursory glance. The island's shape didn't interest him, but the drawings of several exotic fruits and a hot spring symbol did.
"What's this?"
"I-I think it's a treasure map, Commodore!" Potts said, excitement creeping into his voice. "It seems to lead to an island called Warmwave Island! The notes say it has special hot springs and fruits that don't grow anywhere else!"
"Hot springs?"
Renzo pictured himself dozing off in warm water.
"Exotic fruits?"
He looked again at the sketch, juicy, glistening fruit he'd never seen before.
"…Oh." He stuffed the map into Potts's hands.
"Keep it. Troublesome."
Though he called it troublesome, he didn't tell Potts to throw it away. Clearly, both the hot springs and the fruit had piqued his interest.
Just then, three dark shapes appeared on the horizon, fast approaching.
Potts peered through his telescope, his face turning ashen. "C-Commodore! Three pirate ships! Their flags match this one, must be allies!"
Renzo frowned, deeply displeased. He only wanted to quietly collect some food, why did trouble always find him?
He strolled to the rail and looked at the incoming ships.
The pirates had spotted them, too. A loud voice came through a loudspeaker snail:
"Hey, you little boat! What did you do to the Gourmand!?"
"That's our Food Alliance's ship! Drop everything and surrender!"
Potts's knees nearly gave out.
Renzo just yawned and muttered toward them:
"So noisy."
"Terrible timing, interrupting my inventory check."
"Such… a hassle."
[Sloth's Declaration, Wide-Area Hypnosis]
There was no blinding light or thunderous roar, just an invisible wave of pure laziness, washing across the sea like a silent tide, enveloping the three oncoming ships.
The shouting from the loudspeaker snail stopped mid-word.
The armed, raging pirates all froze, as if someone had hit pause.
Then came the irresistible wave of drowsiness, a tsunami of sleep.
"Ya-ahhh-"
"Why am I so sleepy all of a sudden…"
"My sword's… too heavy…"
Thud!
Weapons dropped. Bodies hit the deck. Then came the rising chorus of snores.
In less than ten seconds, the three threatening pirate ships had turned into peaceful floating dormitories.
Only the sea breeze and the rhythmic snoring remained.
"All done." Renzo brushed his hands off, as if shaking off dust.
He turned to the stunned Potts. "Forget the bed. Done moving the food? Then we're leaving."
Potts jolted back to life, hurriedly loading the last few crates of fruit and firing up the engine.
The LC-02 slowly left the area, four silent ships, including the Gourmand, drifting behind them.
Renzo slumped back into his deck chair, biting into one of the plump fruits he'd taken. Sweet juice burst across his tongue.
"Hmm… not bad."
Potts, still shaken, glanced at the treasure map lying on the console.
"Commodore… about this map…"
"Mm?" Renzo half-opened one eye.
"Should we go? To Warmwave Island?"
Renzo thought, slowly, the comfort of a hot spring and the taste of new fruit, then weighed that against the bother of finding the place.
"We'll see."
He murmured drowsily.
"If it's on the way… and I'm too lazy to steer around it… we'll go."
He yawned, tossed the fruit pit into the sea, adjusted his position, and settled back in for his interrupted nap.
.....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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