Sakazuki — the current Marine Admiral, future Fleet Admiral, and the man whose fists could challenge even a Yonko head-on.
His face was square-cut and stern, his expression carved from stone, and his eyes… utterly devoid of warmth.
Beneath the white cloak emblazoned with the word Justice was a dark crimson suit.
Just one glance at him was enough to make the air feel heavier — a killing intent so raw it prickled against the skin.
"Hmm."
His voice was low, gravelly, and cold enough to freeze the air.
He stepped up to the bar counter, taking a seat with military precision. His sharp gaze scanned the quiet tavern, then settled squarely on Ron — the man everyone whispered about, the mysterious tavern owner Sengoku himself had tried, and failed, to recruit into the Marines.
Akainu hadn't come merely to drink tonight. He wanted to see for himself what kind of man could make even the Fleet Admiral lower his pride.
But before Ron could decide which bottle to serve him, the kitchen door creaked open.
Rem and Ram — the twin oni sisters — emerged with aprons still tied around their waists.
The moment their eyes met Akainu's, their instincts screamed.
Born of a demon race, they could sense killing intent like a wolf smells blood.
In that instant, both girls bristled like cornered beasts.
Rem's hand tightened around her pink meteor hammer, while Ram's arms flared with blackened Armament Haki — flames curling up from her forearms.
Akainu turned his head slightly, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.
"So this is how you treat your guests?" His tone was calm, but his eyes — sharp as molten steel — flicked between the two girls.
He wasn't angry. In truth, he was intrigued.
Why did he sense the aura of the Mera Mera no Mi — the Flame-Flame Fruit — from this place again?
And why did the blue-haired girl's stance and Haki feel eerily similar to Silvers Rayleigh's?
Was it just coincidence? Or something else?
Before his doubts could deepen, Ron sighed.
"Easy, you two. He's a customer. Rem, go grab a bottle of Niulan Shan."
Then, turning to Akainu with a wry smile, "My apologies, Admiral Sakazuki. They can be a little jumpy around... intense types."
Training them in hospitality might be a full-time job at this rate, Ron thought to himself.
Akainu exhaled a thick stream of smoke, lighting a cigar between his fingers.
"Your staff is interesting," he muttered. "Let's see if your drinks are as good."
Ron raised a brow — the infamous, merciless Akainu… offering him a cigar?
So the demon of the battlefield could still play the gentleman when he wanted to.
A true Marine through and through — ruthless, but never tactless.
Moments later, Rem placed the bottle on the counter and spoke softly, "Sir, your drink."
Akainu nodded. His eyes dropped to the label — three large green-inked characters stood boldly across it:
Niulan Shan.
He uncorked the bottle, and a rush of sharp, grainy aroma filled the air.
As he poured the clear liquor into his glass, even his stoic face seemed to loosen.
He took a long sip — the burn biting yet smooth — and grunted in approval.
"Spicy. Fierce. That's my kind of drink."
Niulan Shan was unlike any other spirit he'd tasted.
Its fire didn't scorch the throat; it lingered, blooming in the chest like battle adrenaline.
It was the kind of drink that made a man feel alive.
Akainu frowned slightly after his second glass.
He shouldn't have come. This was dangerous.
If he liked it too much... he might never leave.
Ron chuckled. "Glad you approve. Tell you what — since my staff nearly started a fight, I'll give you twenty percent off tonight."
"Do as you please." Akainu waved the thought away. Discounts and pleasantries weren't things a Marine Admiral cared for.
Meanwhile, the twin sisters stood quietly to the side, their heads bowed in guilt.
Ron reached out, ruffling their hair gently.
"It's fine. Go help in the kitchen — I've got this."
(They didn't even do anything wrong… but maybe tonight I'll have them "reflect" at the window — let them feel the heat of passion firsthand.)
The twins nodded obediently and disappeared into the back.
Once they were gone, silence settled again.
The only sound left was the quiet hiss of cigars and the faint crackle from the bottle's seal being broken.
Both men drank in silence.
The smoke from their cigars curled upward, twisting into a single, thin, pale line — then vanishing without a trace.
Normally, a few cups in, a customer's tongue would loosen.
Like Tea Dolphin or Black Tiger — all it took was one round, and they'd be spilling their hearts out about their tragic romantic lives.
But not Akainu.
He didn't talk. He simply drank — methodically, relentlessly.
Ron wasn't in a rush.
He knew this kind of man. Akainu didn't need prompting — just enough alcohol to melt the ice.
Maybe after a few more glasses, he'll be the one dragging me to a bathhouse for "justice patrol."
Ron smirked at the mental image.
By the time his fantasy faded, Akainu had already emptied the bottle.
Finally, the Admiral spoke.
"Another."
Ron nodded, handing over a fresh bottle.
"So, Admiral," he asked casually, "how's the situation on the Sabaody Archipelago these days? All this fighting can't be good for business."
Akainu accepted the bottle, uncorking it with one hand.
"With our forces, capturing Portgas D. Ace is only a matter of time," he said flatly.
"But…" His voice hardened, a dangerous gleam flashing in his eyes. "Thanks to Teach leaking Ace's lineage to Big Mom, the entire sea's gone rabid — Whitebeard, Kaido, Red-Haired Shanks... even smaller pirate crews are converging here."
Ron's brow arched. "So it was Blackbeard, huh? Then I'd say you'd better hurry. If Ace isn't caught before the Yonkos arrive, things are going to get messy."
Akainu snorted. "I'm more interested in cleaning up the trash already under my nose."
"Oh?" Ron leaned forward, amused. "Let me guess — not pirates, not Ace, not Blackbeard... Tianlongren?"
Akainu's jaw tightened. He downed half the glass, and finally, the wall cracked.
"Donquixote Doflamingo," he growled.
"Because of our current operations, his profits took a hit. Some of his auction houses had to shut down. And now that bastard, together with the Golden Emperor, is using the Celestial Dragons to pressure the Marines."
He slammed the empty glass down, lava beginning to drip from his fist.
"This world's full of leeches — money-fat nobles and parasites hiding behind 'justice'!"
The temperature in the tavern spiked.
Molten cracks spread across the wooden floor, and heat shimmered in the air.
Ron frowned slightly. With a lazy motion, he raised his right hand.
A sudden pull — a pressure like a black hole — filled the room.
The lava and flame were drawn upward, twisting through the air before collapsing into his palm.
With a faint pop, everything cooled. The molten rock crumbled into gray dust.
Ron flexed his fingers, satisfied. So Black Tiger's Absorption Technique isn't as useless as I thought.
Akainu's fury stalled. He blinked, genuinely surprised.
"What... kind of ability is that?"
Before Ron could answer—
A cheerful, youthful voice rang from the doorway.
"Boss! Sorry to barge in again!"
The door creaked open.
Standing there, grinning sheepishly, was Portgas D. Ace — crumbs still clinging to the corner of his mouth, breath uneven, like he'd just sprinted away from an unpaid meal.
The room went dead silent.
Akainu turned.
Their eyes met.
The air split apart.
"...You."
"...Akainu."
For a single, motionless heartbeat, molten magma and blazing fire coiled through the air like serpents, ready to devour the world.
Ron sighed softly, rubbing his temple.
Great. There goes my floor again.
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