A bustling tavern on Beehive Island.
"Wow!"
A pirate was flung through the air and crashed heavily onto a wine table, the impact sending him rolling across the floor and toppling several other tables.
"Impressive!"
The other pirates in the tavern raised their glasses and bottles, cheering loudly.
In the center of the room—where space had been deliberately cleared—Katakuri stood proudly, swinging the trident in his hand. His sharp eyes scanned the stiff-faced pirates before him.
"Who's next?"
The pirates exchanged uneasy glances. After a brief pause, they gritted their teeth and charged together.
"Don't be so arrogant, kid!"
"Hahaha! You're the arrogant ones!"
Despite being only ten years old, Katakuri showed no fear. He laughed confidently, spinning his trident to parry their attacks.
Though just a child, Katakuri was taller and far stronger than most adults.
After all, he was the proud eldest son of Charlotte Linlin—a natural-born powerhouse and the greatest masterpiece of the Charlotte family!
With a single mighty swing, his trident's force swept three pirates off their feet.
Suddenly, his body transformed into a mass of white mochi, letting the pirates' weapons pass harmlessly through him. He displayed early mastery of Observation Haki's Future Sight, predicting attacks moments before they came.
Though the Mochi-Mochi Fruit is a special Paramecia-type able to mimic elements, it is not a true Logia. If Katakuri didn't actively shift into mochi, he could still be hit.
"Glutinous Ball Stab!"
His right arm morphed into spinning white mochi, engulfing the trident.
The weapon spun wildly, stabbing out in all directions.
Blood splattered everywhere as remaining pirates were knocked back, many badly wounded; some were even cleaved in two.
"The hunt is over!"
Katakuri wiped the cream from his nose with his thumb and slammed his trident into the ground, declaring loudly.
The tavern erupted in cheers.
"As expected of Katakuri! So strong!"
Roya lay lazily on a nearby table, watching with disinterest yet joining the praise.
"You're really impressive, brother! I'd call you the strongest ten-year-old on Beehive Island!"
For kids on Beehive Island, life was dull—full of pirates and chaos.
What entertainment was there for children of pirates?
Eating, drinking, gambling, and worse—all inappropriate for children.
So, bored kids like Katakuri created their own fun: randomly hunting pirates for thrilling "pirate hunts."
A super-realistic playground, perfectly suited for younglings of Beehive Island.
Roya inhaled deeply, absorbing the thick black mist of despair released by the wounded pirates.
Though he considered himself a pacifist with no interest in killing or hunting, who could resist a free afternoon tea?
The victorious Katakuri plopped into a chair beside Roya, grinning. "Come on, Roya! Aren't you joining? You haven't participated since officially joining the Rocks Pirates."
"I'll pass."
Roya's head stayed on the table, his voice slow and drawn out. "I'm a pacifist."
Since becoming an officer of the Rocks Pirates, there was no need to hunt pirates for black mist.
There was a gladiatorial arena for that.
"Pacifist?"
Katakuri's mouth twitched into an almost painful grimace.
"What are you saying? You, who love torturing pirates? Haven't I been to your arena before?"
Roya shrugged. "If we get rid of all troublemaking pirates, won't there be peace?"
"Such a pacifist!"
Katakuri grumbled unhappily. "Besides, aren't you a pirate too?"
"I'm a temp, not a full member. I enjoy the perks but not the responsibilities."
"Where would you find temps like that?"
The cheerful Katakuri pulled out a plate of donuts from his bag, biting into one eagerly.
He asked vaguely, "Want some?"
Roya waved his hand.
Compared to black mist, human food was hard to swallow.
After all, each breath of black mist was a small evolution—body and soul ascending beyond simple taste.
At that moment, the badly injured pirates lucky enough to survive Katakuri's hunt struggled to their feet.
They trembled as they limped around the table, supporting each other as they left the tavern.
Roya watched them thoughtfully.
"Aren't you worried about their revenge, Katakuri?"
Come to think of it, Brûlée was still safe.
"Those guys? If they've got guts, they can try."
Katakuri wiped cream from his mouth disdainfully and shoved another donut in.
His eating was sloppy and scary—no wonder he struggled to make friends.
He glanced at Roya. "And didn't you do worse?"
"Different. I have a kind heart."
Roya said casually.
Master Roya couldn't bear to see death and separation.
So all pirates sent to the arena were released unharmed—no one left alone.
Where was the revenge in that?
He looked at Katakuri with interest.
"Besides, I'm invincible."
"Invincible?"
Katakuri looked confused.
At that moment—
Bang!
The tavern door burst open.
A young man rushed in, a long tongue sticking out in eagerness.
"Brother Peros?"
Katakuri's eyes widened. "Why are you here?"
Charlotte Perospero, eldest son of the Charlotte family, said anxiously, "Katakuri, something's happened to Brûlée!"
"Huh?"
Katakuri's confusion was clear as the donut fell from his hand.
Roya looked up from the table.
He saw Katakuri already radiating black mist.
What a coincidence.
Bro, you smell delicious!
Unlike me, invincible but detached, you've got too many ties.
Later, at the Charlotte family villa.
"Brother Katakuri, I'm fine…"
The little girl lay on a hospital bed, a diagonal wound scarred across her face.
Despite emergency treatment, blood still seeped.
For a five-year-old, it must have been agonizing.
But Brûlée smiled weakly to comfort her brother.
"It doesn't hurt. Don't worry."
"Brûlée!!"
Katakuri stared at his pale sister, panic in his eyes.
He turned to his brothers.
"What happened? Why like this?"
"It's those thugs you beat up before."
Daifuku, one of Katakuri's triplets with a flat head, muttered, "They said someone as ugly as you shouldn't have such a cute sister…"
Owen, the brother with flaming hair, looked at Brûlée with sadness.
"The doctor said the scar will be permanent."
Katakuri trembled, cold sweat breaking out.
Was it because of him?
He had beaten those thugs for mocking his looks.
And Brûlée paid the price?
Was all this his fault?
"Don't worry, Katakuri-nii."
Brûlée grabbed his hand with effort, masking the pain, her eyes gentle.
"Just be yourself."
Katakuri's body shook violently.
Clenching his teeth, he grabbed her hand tightly.
"Brûlée, wait! I'll avenge you right now!"
He grabbed his trident and turned to leave.
But suddenly paused.
His right arm morphed into mochi, stretching out to grab a scarf from a nearby hanger.
He casually wrapped it around his neck, covering the lower half of his face.
"Hey! Katakuri!"
Perospero gasped.
Katakuri never cared about others' opinions!
"Brother Peros, where are they?"
Without turning, Katakuri asked.
"The port…"
Perospero answered instinctively.
"I'll make them feel true terror!"
With that, Katakuri dashed out.
Only the Charlotte brothers remained, exchanging worried looks.
"I'll go check it out."
Roya, who had been silently watching, spoke up.
When my good brother is in trouble, of course I—Roya of Beehive Island—must help him.
It has absolutely nothing to do with evil spirits or anything like that.