As Yunan retracted his chakra, the bar gradually returned to its former calm.
Yet, in those few seconds, the Straw Hat crew noticed something unsettling—their clothes were soaked through with cold sweat.
"Oh? Looks like this young man isn't ordinary… Haven't even properly met yet?"
Shakky's eyes widened in shock, completely unaware that the cigarette between her lips had already burned down.
"Just call me Yunan, Shakky," he replied lightly.
"What the hell… who is this guy?!"
"This aura… can someone his age really possess this kind of power…?"
"Don't worry, we've got Uncle Rayleigh here. He'll protect us, hohoho!"
The Straw Hats' expressions were a mixture of shock and caution.
Even a mere outburst of his aura carried such terrifying strength—if he actually attacked, they might not even get the chance to fight back.
"Young man, that move just now… it didn't seem like Haki," Rayleigh said, his gaze serious.
The sheer presence Yunan had displayed was far beyond ordinary human capability.
"I'm just a passing pirate. Came for a drink, that's all," Yunan said with a shrug.
"No need to stare at me so tensely. Makes drinking uncomfortable."
Feeling the tension in the room, Yunan spoke with a casual air.
"You're not Navy? A pirate too?!"
Luffy tilted his head, surprised.
"If you're a pirate, someone with your strength shouldn't be so obscure," Shakky mused, inhaling deeply from her cigarette.
"But my intel network has nothing on you. Yunan, you're quite the mysterious one."
"That just means your information network isn't extensive enough, Shakky," Yunan said with a laugh, downing another cup of wine.
"Counting the Straw Hats, there are eleven Supernovas with bounties over a hundred million on this island."
"Now it seems there are twelve," Rayleigh added with a faint smile.
"Supernovas? Childish nonsense—I have no interest in that," Yunan laughed.
"If I aim for the top, it has to be Pirate King. That's the real thrill! Hahaha!"
"Hey, you bastard! You wanna steal my title as Pirate King? I'll be the Pirate King someday!"
Luffy shouted in rage, pointing at Yunan.
"With your current strength, you're not even worthy of being my opponent," Yunan said with a faint smile.
"Alright, drinks are done, greetings to Uncle Rayleigh and Shakky completed—time to go," Yunan said, belching lightly before preparing to leave the bar.
"Oh, by the way, Nami, Robin… interested in joining my crew? Far more promising than sticking with Luffy~"
"And Chopper… well, I might reluctantly take you too," he added, looking at Nami and Robin with a mock-serious tone.
"What?! Join you? Are you joking?!"
"Why reluctantly, damn it!!!"
Nami and the others were stunned by Yunan's sudden invitation.
"Hey! You punk, don't think that just because you're stronger, you can do whatever you want!"
"Want to take Nami or Robin? Over my dead body!"
Sanji immediately blocked Nami and Robin, glaring fiercely at Yunan.
"Hey! Sanji, does that mean I can be stolen?!" Chopper stomped angrily at him.
"Hahaha, it's fine if you don't come along," Yunan said casually.
"Goodbye for now, Uncle Rayleigh, Shakky. I'll come visit again sometime."
With a loud laugh, he pushed open the door and stepped out.
"This little Yunan is truly interesting. I'll need to investigate him further," Shakky chuckled.
"Yes, at his age, the aura and courage he displays are beyond normal. Even I cannot fully read him—this era is getting more intriguing," Rayleigh murmured, eyes narrowed in contemplation.
...
After leaving Shakky's bar, Yunan wandered the streets aimlessly once more.
"Island No. 30 should be the shopping district… time to get a few clean outfits."
He glanced down at his black shirt, now filthy, and headed toward Island No. 30.
Suddenly, the bustling, cheerful streets fell eerily silent.
All the people along the road simultaneously dropped to their knees, clearing the path in the center.
Moments later, a group emerged from the distance.
Donning bubble-shaped hoods, one Celestial Dragon, Charlos Saint, rode atop a heavily scarred male slave, staggering forward.
"Hey, you useless slave! Move it! Stop dawdling, you garbage!"
Charlos Saint kicked the slave's head repeatedly as he shouted impatiently.
Crimson blood ran freely from the slave's head.