The crisp click of heels echoed through the tavern.
To most, it was just the sound of footsteps — but to Rayleigh, it might as well have been a death knell.
The woman who had just stepped through the door was none other than the owner of the tavern next door — Shakky.
Former Queen of Amazon Lily two generations ago, once a Great Pirate of the old era.
Though age had left faint lines upon her face, and her skin no longer held the tight glow of youth, her tall, graceful figure still turned heads.
Especially… the "treasures" well-contained beneath her fitted short-sleeved top.
Her black hair was tied neatly back, and though faint wrinkles traced her face, her eyes burned with fury.
Shakky strode straight up to Rayleigh, grabbed him by the hair, and snarled,
"Old man! What time do you think it is?! You still haven't come home!"
"I even put on that outfit you like!"
Rayleigh didn't even try to fight it. He was already half-drunk.
"Ahh… I just had one too many," he slurred, waving her off. "Next time, next time…"
Then his head slumped onto the bar with a heavy thud, sound asleep.
Ron, watching the scene unfold, couldn't help smirking.
"Don't worry, ma'am. I keep sobering soup behind the bar — one bowl of that, and he'll be ready for… whatever plans you've got tonight."
A glimmer of mischief flashed across Shakky's eyes.
"Thank you, young man," she said sweetly.
Ron smiled, then suddenly froze.
Wait a second…
Wasn't this exactly how every disaster starts in a movie?
He was the employee helping the drunk boss get home, the tenant stuck with a landlady's hangover, the poor friend at a wedding looking after the groom — only to wake up in chaos the next morning.
A few minutes later, Rem brought over a steaming bowl of sobering soup and handed it to Shakky.
"Here, darling, drink your medicine," Shakky said, tilting Rayleigh's head up and pouring the soup into his mouth.
Rayleigh grimaced, clearly resisting, but under Shakky's overwhelming dominance, he had no choice but to obey.
"Not bad," he coughed, blinking awake with forced surprise. Then he cast Ron a look of sheer despair.
Sure, every man dreams of uncovering the mysteries of the universe…
But for someone Rayleigh's age, some black holes were better left unexplored.
"Come on, old man. We're going home," Shakky said, dragging him toward the door. As she left, she threw Ron a teasing wink.
"I'll be seeing you, handsome. I'll come by to try your drinks sometime."
Ron's heart skipped a beat, cold sweat breaking out across his back.
At Shakky's age, when a woman like that said something, she meant it — body and soul.
On the way home
Shakky lit a cigarette, her voice soft but heavy.
"Garp's coming to Sabaody."
Rayleigh raised an eyebrow.
"Word is, Sengoku and the higher-ups forbade him from joining the operation," Shakky continued.
Rayleigh chuckled knowingly. "Heh… that old dog never listens anyway."
The Next Morning
Perhaps because of last night's drinks, Ron was up early.
As he and Rem and Ram washed up together, Rem tilted her head, eyes wide with curiosity.
"Master, why doesn't Uncle Rayleigh want to go home with that lady?"
Ron thought for a moment before smiling.
"Because every time they go home, they fight. Loudly. And Rayleigh always loses."
Rem nodded thoughtfully.
"No wonder he always holds his back when he comes in the morning," she said innocently. "He keeps muttering bad words too."
Ron froze. "…Yeah. Let's… not talk about that, okay?"
He made a mental note: never, ever talk like that in front of the twins again.
At this rate, they'd end up knowing more than him — and then who'd be the one taking orders?
After breakfast, Ron flipped open the day's paper.
Headlines screamed in bold print:
[Exclusive! The Filthy Secrets of the Celestial Dragons — Disgusting Yet Heartbreaking!]
[Why the World's Richest Man, Gild Tesoro, Never Wears a Ring on His Left Hand — The Hidden Love Story That'll Move You to Tears!]
[Shocking! Young Photo of Big Mom Leaked! Men Worldwide Reward Themselves After Seeing It!]
Ron sighed. "Morgans really wants to get his newspaper shut down, huh?"
He was still chuckling when—
BANG!
The tavern door was kicked open with a deafening crash.
Rayleigh stumbled in, legs trembling, his face pale as a ghost.
He looked like a man who had seen — and survived — the apocalypse.
Slamming himself onto a barstool, he growled,
"What the hell did you put in that sobering soup last night?!"
Ah… so it was that kind of unforgettable night.
Ron shrugged. "It's for recovery. Why, what happened?"
The truth was, he'd brewed the soup days ago — with a few extra potent ingredients for… "revitalization."
After all, a drunk warrior usually found it hard to stand at attention, so he'd helped things along.
Rayleigh groaned. "Forget it. Don't ask."
He sighed deeply. "Just pour me something mild — I need a pick-me-up."
"Goji berry wine," Ron said immediately. "Perfect for your… current condition."
He fetched a bottle filled with red fruits floating in clear liquor and handed it over.
Rayleigh poured a glass, hesitated, then took a sip.
The warmth hit immediately — bittersweet, smooth, and surprisingly refreshing.
Within seconds, the tension in his battered body melted away.
"Not bad," he admitted with a satisfied nod.
The burn in his gut told him it was working — this wasn't as wild as tiger tonic, but it was doing the job.
Before the peace could last, though—
BANG!
Another door kick.
Ron's brow twitched. Why does everyone kick my damn door?
Both men turned toward the entrance.
Strutting inside with his trademark swagger was Donquixote Doflamingo, his feathered pink coat dragging behind him.
At his side was Diamante, dressed in his usual flashy, gaudy attire.
Doflamingo's grin widened as he looked around, sunglasses glinting.
"So this is the famous tavern," he said lazily. "Hmm… not bad. Though your furniture's a bit cheap for my taste."
Behind those dark lenses, his eyes flashed with brief disdain.
If I didn't already know your strength, I'd have trashed this place before walking in.
Same furniture as mine? What a joke.
He sauntered up to the bar, about to sit — but before he could, Ron gestured casually toward the door.
"Welcome, Donquixote Doflamingo," Ron said with a polite smile. "But before you drink, could you please… close the door?"
The Warlord froze.
For a long moment, he didn't move.
Had he heard that right?
"Close… the door?"
Diamante immediately slammed a fist against the counter.
"Watch your tone, bartender! You're speaking to Lord Doflamingo — King of Dressrosa and one of the Seven Warlords!"
But Doflamingo didn't respond.
Under Diamante's stunned gaze, he quietly turned… and shut the door himself.
It wasn't that he wanted to — it was that he had to.
The silver-haired man sitting at the bar, his back turned toward them, radiated a pressure that could crush a mountain.
Even though the old man's aura was tightly restrained, Doflamingo's Observation Haki could still sense it — a beast lying in wait.
The Dark King, Silvers Rayleigh.
And that wasn't the scariest part.
What truly froze Doflamingo in place…
was the sight of the twin maids standing quietly behind the counter.
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