Crocus smiled as he shifted his gaze from Giovanni back to Shanks, his expression softening with familiarity.
"Shanks," Crocus said calmly, "do you still drink?"
Shanks grinned immediately, scratching the back of his head. "Of course. Everyone on the ship drinks."
Crocus nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Wait here for a minute."
With that, he stood up and walked toward his small house on the island, disappearing inside without another word. The others watched him go, Giovanni tilting his head slightly.
"…He really just lives in there?" Giovanni muttered.
A short while later, Crocus returned. In his hands was a bottle of sake and four simple drinking bowls. He walked over to the small table outside and placed everything down carefully, the ceramic bowls making soft clinking sounds as they touched the wood.
"Come on," Crocus said, gesturing lazily. "Let's drink and catch up on old times. And maybe you can tell me more about what you've been up to for the past two years."
Shanks' smile widened. "Of course."
Then he paused, brow furrowing slightly. "But Crocus-san… how do you even have alcohol? To my knowledge, you just stay on this island every day."
Crocus chuckled, unscrewing the bottle. "I take it from the prosperous pirates who come here looking to cross into the Grand Line."
Giovanni's eyes widened. "Wait, so you just rob aspiring pirates? How cruel."
Crocus laughed. "Well, I do more than just rob them. I make sure they don't ever enter the Grand Line. And valuables are appreciation gifts I take for that."
Giovanni frowned deeply. "What does that mean?"
"It means exactly what it sounds like," Crocus replied calmly. "The Grand Line is no joke. But some pirates treat it like one. So apart from treating Laboon here, I stay to block pirates who I deem not worthy of entering it."
Giovanni crossed his arms, irritation creeping into his expression. "Isn't that too presumptuous of you? Why do you get to decide who follows their dreams and how?"
Before Crocus could answer, Beckman spoke up, his tone even.
"I don't see a problem with what he does, Gio," Beckman said. "It saves a lot of deaths. Some people just aren't meant for the Grand Line and should remain in the Blue Seas, where it's safest."
Giovanni hesitated, then exhaled slowly. "I guess… you're right."
Crocus beamed. "Good. Then let's drink."
He meticulously poured sake into each of the four bowls, his movements steady and practiced. One by one, he handed a bowl out, Shanks, Beckman, Building Snake and finally took one for himself.
Everyone except Giovanni.
Crocus raised his bowl. "To you, Shanks. And to starting your own journey."
Giovanni blinked. Then he let out an awkward chuckle. "Old man… I think you forgot about me."
Crocus looked at him calmly. "No. I didn't forget anything."
Giovanni tilted his head. "Huh?"
"You have some pretty incredible injuries," Crocus continued evenly. "So I won't allow you to drink alcohol until you're healed."
Giovanni froze. "…Huh?"
At that moment, Shanks, Beckman, and Building Snake clinked their bowls together and drank.
Beckman exhaled contentedly. "Now this is some premium stuff. Was the pirate you looted some rich kid?"
Crocus chuckled. "He was pretty rich. I even took some gold for myself."
Shanks laughed. "Crocus-san, I might have to leave with this sake. You can just raid the next ship."
"Don't worry about it," Crocus replied easily.
Suddenly, Giovanni shot to his feet.
"Don't joke around!" he snapped. "What is this concept of everyone drinking besides me?! Yes, I'm injured, but so what?!"
The others paused mid-sip.
Shanks glanced at Giovanni, then at Crocus.
Crocus didn't look surprised at all. He simply took another sip of sake, eyes half-lidded.
"Young man," he said calmly, "injuries don't care about pride. Alcohol slows healing, dulls judgment, and worsens internal damage."
Giovanni clenched his fists. "That's not the point!"
"The point," Crocus continued, cutting him off without raising his voice, "is that if you want to get stronger, you need to live long enough to do so."
Giovanni opened his mouth to argue, then stopped.
Building Snake watched quietly, while Beckman took another slow drink, eyes thoughtful.
Shanks scratched his cheek. "He's got a point, Gio…"
Giovanni's eyes narrowed as he stared at the sake bottle sitting innocently on the table.
Everyone else was drinking. Laughing. Relaxing.
And him?
Forbidden.
His pride bristled.
Before anyone could react, Giovanni moved in defiance, reaching out for the bottle
Only for Crocus to move.
Fast.
So fast it was almost unreal.
In a blink, Giovanni felt his arm twisted behind his back, his balance stolen as Crocus stepped in close and restrained him with effortless precision. The motion was clean, practiced, and utterly humiliating.
Crocus didn't even look strained.
"I thought I told you," Crocus said calmly, his voice steady, almost bored, "no alcohol. It's a doctor's order."
Giovanni's eyes widened.
So fast?!
How is this old man that fast?!
He struggled instinctively, but the pressure on his arm made it painfully clear that resistance was pointless.
"Let me go, old man!" Giovanni snapped.
Crocus hummed thoughtfully, tightening his grip just enough to make a point. "Your injuries truly are bad, aren't they? You can't use your Observation Haki properly. Otherwise, you would've detected me."
Giovanni froze.
Crocus continued, his tone curious rather than mocking. "Just what could have given you injuries like these?"
Before Giovanni could answer
Shanks burst out laughing.
"Gio!" Shanks wheezed, clutching his stomach. "Look at you! You're being handled like a baby!"
Giovanni's face turned red with fury. "Shanks! I swear, when I get up from here, I'm going to beat the crap out of you!"
That only made Shanks laugh harder, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.
Beckman exhaled smoke calmly and decided to answer Crocus himself.
"He got those injuries fighting a swordsman named Dracula Mihawk."
Crocus paused.
For the first time, his expression shifted, just slightly.
"…Mihawk," he repeated.
A memory surfaced.
"Are you talking about that kid with the massive sword on his back?"
Beckman nodded. "Yes. Exactly that one."
"I see," Crocus said slowly. "Then this injury makes a lot of sense."
He loosened his grip just a bit, thoughtful now. "That kid was quite scary. He crossed the Twin Capes on a single boat. I've never seen anyone do that before."
Beckman took another sip. "Let's just say Mihawk is a special case."
Shanks finally managed to calm down, wiping tears from his eyes. He looked at Crocus with a grin.
"So, Crocus-san. Can you heal him? That's one of the reasons we stopped by you first. We don't have a doctor on our ship yet."
Crocus nodded without hesitation. "Of course I can heal him."
Then he looked Shanks straight in the eye.
"But Shanks, you need to get a doctor on your ship. Especially in the Grand Line. Your opponents won't be easy."
"I know," Shanks replied seriously. "That's why I'm trying to build up my crew as fast as possible. But I don't want to recruit just anyone. They have to be perfect for my crew."
Crocus smiled knowingly. "I see."
At that moment, Giovanni snapped.
"Old man!" he barked. "You've made your point! Can you get off me now?!"
Crocus blinked.
"…Ah."
He realized he was still holding Giovanni in place and casually released him.
Giovanni staggered forward, rubbing his arm, shooting Crocus an irritated glare while clearly re-evaluating everything he thought about the old man.
Crocus sat back down. "I'll heal him later. For now, can we exchange some stories? I truly want to hear about your travels, Shanks."
Shanks' grin returned instantly. "Of course."
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