A lazy morning at Warmwave Island, where even the sea breeze seemed lethargic.
Sanji crouched by the shallow stretch downstream of the hot spring, holding a freshly picked piece of "hot spring moss," nose almost touching the small bowl of sauce.
The moss was so green it seemed to drip water. Bubbles rose from it in the spring water, releasing a faint almond fragrance.
It was a treasure he had discovered yesterday, said to enhance the flavor of meat by three extra levels.
"Potts! Pass me the sea salt! The finest kind!"
Without looking back, Sanji shouted, eyes fixed on the amber-colored sauce as if it were a priceless gem.
Potts was crouched nearby, washing Blue Mist Fruit. Flustered by Sanji's shout, he fumbled for the salt shaker, spilling almost half into the water.
Panicking, he reached to scoop it up but his fingers hit something hard, a half-buried pottery shard in the sand.
It was engraved with crooked lines, resembling vines or some kind of symbols. The edges gleamed softly, clearly not an ordinary object.
"Sanji! Look at this!"
Potts ran over, pale-faced. "Could this be buried treasure? Could it be cursed?"
Sanji glanced at it, stirred the sauce with his spoon, and replied casually, "Cursed? Maybe just some tourist's broken plate."
"Pick up the salt quickly, don't waste it. I only got this sea salt yesterday by persuading Renzo to 'casually' fetch it from a nearby island. The sea salt drifted over itself anyway."
Just then, a contented sigh drifted from upstream, like a cat basking in the sun.
No need to look, it was Renzo.
He had claimed the warmest rock in the hot spring area, heated by geothermal energy, and lined with the linen Sanji had softened in the sun yesterday.
Renzo sprawled across it, half-lidded eyes, holding an empty hot spring egg shell, sunlight perfectly on his face but not blinding him.
No doubt he had secretly used his power again, making the sunlight "too lazy to move," keeping the temperature just right.
"Potts-"
Renzo's voice was lazy, like he had just woken up.
"Bring over the cooled hot spring eggs later, don't burn your mouth. And tell Sanji to keep it down; the sauce swirling makes my head spin."
Potts nodded frantically. Just as he turned, the bay echoed with a deep, roaring engine.
Not their LC-02, but a rougher, louder sound, like a herd of groggy wild boars crashing into a garden.
Sanji frowned first, putting down his spoon and heading toward the sea. "What ship is that? This island isn't on any routes."
Potts followed, still holding the pottery shard, heart racing.
Renzo, annoyed by the noise, lifted his head.
On the distant sea, three black-painted speedboats charged forward, sails marked with a familiar skull with fangs, wrapped in a pink ribbon, not Doflamingo's black market emblem, who else?
"Troublesome."
Renzo clicked his tongue, about to close his eyes, when the lead boat stopped. A man with a single eyepatch and an iron hook jumped down.
Behind him were over twenty black-uniformed subordinates, some with limbs gleaming metallic, clearly cyborgs.
He was Doflamingo's black market lieutenant, Hook Gal, known for hardening his hook with Armament Haki and snatching rare, sellable goods.
The first step Gal took crushed a few Ice Crystal Grass plants Sanji had planted yesterday. His eyes swept the hot spring area, finally landing on Sanji's makeshift stove, a predatory grin spreading across his face.
"So this is it? The hot spring said to heal injuries and these rare ingredients… the intel wasn't a lie."
The cyborgs surged forward; one flipped Sanji's stove.
Amber sauce spilled into the sand, uncooked steaks rolled away. Worst of all, a cyborg stepped on a spare hot spring egg, crushing it, yolk spilling everywhere.
"You're dead!"
Sanji instantly went berserk, tensing to kick, but another cyborg shot a stun net at him.
Electric currents ran along the threads, paralyzing him.
Potts' legs went weak; he tried to reach Renzo, but two cyborgs blocked him, one aiming a gun at his head: "Don't move or you're dead!"
Gal strolled over, poked the spilled sauce with his hook, and sneered at Sanji trapped in the net:
"You think a little chef from the East Blue can fight me? I'll take these ingredients and ten buckets of this spring water. Lord Doflamingo said anything that boosts artificial Devil Fruit success is worth any price."
He glanced at Renzo, still lounging, seemingly oblivious to the chaos.
"Hey, lazybones! Didn't you see me working? Get up!"
A cyborg kicked Renzo's lounger. The linen fell; the chair tipped, crushing the half-eaten strawberry daifuku.
Renzo finally opened his eyes.
His gaze was still lazy, but the faint smile was gone. He stared at the cyborg and said slowly:
"Too noisy. Don't move."
Though quiet, his words carried an almost magical weight.
Then the strange phenomenon began, the cyborg charging at Potts froze mid-step, arms reaching out but unable to move, before collapsing with a "plop," as if his bones were removed.
The net on Sanji slackened; he wriggled free instantly.
Gal's subordinates fared worse, some raised their guns, only to find their fingers "too lazy to pull the trigger," others sat down yawning, dazed as if just waking up.
Half the island fell into a bizarre "collective lying down" state, only the waves moved lazily.
Gal was stunned. His body felt heavy; his hook dropped halfway. He wanted to rage, but couldn't summon energy, everything seemed "too troublesome", fighting, stealing, even standing.
But as a black market lieutenant, his willpower was stronger than his subordinates, barely holding on. His gaze fell on the pottery shard in Potts' hands; his pupils constricted.
The patterns… he had seen something like this in Doflamingo's study, said to be connected to an "ancient energy source"!
Gal gritted his teeth, trying to order his subordinates, but even speaking felt exhausting. He stared at the shard, scheming: this island has not just hot springs and ingredients, but valuable treasures! Must get them!
Meanwhile, Sanji had already kicked the cyborg who crushed the egg.
The cyborg didn't move, only grunted twice, like a salted fish.
Potts finally dared to breathe, clutching the shard as he ran to Renzo, voice trembling:
"Commodore! They're Doflamingo's people! What do we do?"
Renzo slowly picked up the linen, laid it back over the rock, righted the lounger, then glanced at Gal and his sprawled subordinates, speaking flatly:
"What else can we do? Lie down. Once they're too lazy to move, push the ships away."
Just then, the ground underfoot trembled slightly; the shard in Potts' hands glimmered faintly. Bubbles in the hot spring thickened, as if something had been disturbed.
Renzo frowned, looking at the ground, then at Gal's greedy eyes fixed on the shard, muttering:
"This island… seems more troublesome than I thought."
No matter. No matter the trouble, just make them "too lazy to act," right?
He reclined back in his chair, closing his eyes, leaving Sanji cleaning the stove and Potts clutching the shard, occasionally glancing nervously at the "salted fish" sprawled on the ground.