Chapter 20: Hawkeye's Meal
Shanks and Mihawk sat in a comfortable silence, the heat from the hotpot gradually fading from their faces. In front of them, Ren placed a small porcelain plate containing a dozen dark red, almost black, berries covered in a delicate layer of frost.
The two swordsmen looked at the frosty fruit with puzzled expressions. It was a stark contrast to the fiery meal they had just consumed.
Shanks picked one up, examining it carefully against the light. The bumpy texture and the deep color were unfamiliar to him.
"Boss," Shanks asked, poking the frozen surface. "What kind of fruit is this? Why is it frozen? Is it a Devil Fruit snack?"
Ren just smiled, wiping down the counter. He softly said, "You'll know once you taste it. It's not magical, but it works magic."
Shanks laughed, throwing caution to the wind. "The Boss's recommendation must be right! Down the hatch!"
He popped the berry into his mouth.
Crunch.
The frost shattered instantly. Then, the juice exploded.
"Phew!" Shanks' eyes went wide. "What kind of fruit is this?! It's sour! It's sweet! It's too delicious!"
If it were before coming here, Mihawk wouldn't have believed a single word from Shanks regarding food, dismissing it as the ramblings of a drunkard. But now, after the transformative experience of the hotpot, he had no reason not to believe Shanks, or rather, not to believe this shop.
Hawkeye also picked one up with two fingers. He put it in his mouth.
The intense tartness of the Yangmei (Chinese Bayberry) hit his tongue first, instantly cutting through the greasy, spicy aftertaste of the Sichuan hotpot. Then came the sweetness, and finally, the cooling sensation of the ice crystals melting.
His golden eyes lit up slightly. He looked at Ren, silently asking the same question.
Ren waved his hand dismissively. "It's a very common fruit here, called Iced Bayberry. It's nature's palate cleanser. Just be careful, the pit can't be eaten, I'll say that first."
Both of them had just finished eating a heavy, oil-rich meal. Although satisfied, they felt a bit heavy, and a faint chili burn still lingered in their throats.
Now, with the iced bayberries dissolving in their mouths, their whole bodies calmed down. The fire in their stomachs was quenched.
They were like refugees who had just run from a scorching desert into a cool, shaded oasis. Their parched hearts slowly cooled down, finding equilibrium.
Shanks exhaled a long breath of contentment. He picked up the Demon King's Shochu he had ordered at the beginning—the one he had neglected for the beer—and took a sip from the spout.
One word: Contentment!
This liquor, after all, was not beer. Its alcohol content was much higher than the watered-down grog they were used to on the open sea. But as they exchanged toasts, the two flasks of hard liquor were quickly consumed.
As the saying goes: White liquor with beer, a night-long sleep.
Given their superhuman constitutions and Haki, they wouldn't get blackout drunk from this amount, but they did feel something rare: a buzz.
Being a little tipsy was much better than being completely drunk. It was a warm haze that softened the edges of their dangerous lives.
"Boss!" Shanks roared, slamming the empty flask down. "Today was another perfect ending! If we come here a few more times, I wonder if I'll get tired of the food back home! Hahaha! My cook is going to cry!"
Ren smiled as he collected the empty plates. "As long as it suits your taste. So, do you need anything else? Or are you ready to head back?"
While Shanks was thinking, rubbing his chin, Hawkeye spoke up. His voice was steady, but there was a hint of urgency.
"Give me more of this fruit called bayberry. To go. And a few flasks of this liquor too. It aids meditation."
Ren nodded.
Shanks also shouted, realizing he was being left behind. "Then I'll have the same! Oh, right! Boss, you said the hot pot base—that red oil stuff—was made by you, so does that mean the base can also be bought? Can I take the fire with me?"
"Of course. It's solidified into blocks for transport. Would you like a portion?"
"Get a few portions! A dozen! It'll definitely be the best choice for a party back on the Red Force! The crew will go crazy!"
When Ren returned from the kitchen, he carried two large canvas bags. He gave each of them a large box of fresh bayberries packed in ice, four or five large bricks of solidified spicy hot pot base, and the bottles of Shochu they both wanted.
"This hot pot base should last you a long time. You can also find a chef to look for similar spices in your world to make some; the recipe isn't a secret, just hard to master."
"Understood! Well then, Boss, we'll be leaving first! The tide waits for no man!"
"Here's the money!"
Shanks said, casually throwing down a large, heavy leather bag. It landed with a solid thud that shook the table.
If there were no surprises, this money—gold berries and jewels—would be measured by the pound.
Ren didn't say anything; he had realized that each of these people was extraordinarily rich in their own currencies. He simply nodded.
Hawkeye, however, didn't throw down as much money. Instead, after putting down a small pouch of gold dust, he reached into his coat.
He pulled out a strangely shaped fruit.
It was purple, covered in swirls, and looked like a mutated melon.
This fruit was much more attractive to Ren than money. His eyes widened slightly.
Shanks saw the fruit and just smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes. He said to Hawkeye, "You're really generous, Hawkeye. That's a rare find."
He turned to Ren. "Oh? I'm suddenly very curious if the Boss can make this thing delicious. It tastes like rot and despair."
A hint of playfulness also flashed in Hawkeye's usually stoic eyes, but he said nothing.
After putting on his wide-brimmed hat, he nodded to Ren—a mark of respect—and turned to leave, his black coat swirling.
Shanks quickly followed, waving frantically. "See ya, Boss! I'll bring more guys next time!"
He ran to catch up with Hawkeye before the door closed.
After the two left, the shop fell silent again.
Ren weighed the two bags of money. As expected, it was another huge sum.
He suddenly became curious about one thing: How rich were these worlds that used gems, gold, silver, and metal as casual currency? Inflation must be a nightmare.
After putting the money away in the safe, Ren picked up the strange fruit. He looked at it, turning it over in his hands.
Then he sniffed it.
He frowned. This thing actually had no smell. It was like a void in the olfactory spectrum, which was very strange for something organic.
"System," he mentally queried. "How much is this worth? And what is it?"
The cold mechanical voice responded instantly.
"[It is priceless. A specialty of the One Piece world: a Devil Fruit. specifically, a Paramecia-type. Eating it grants unique powers, but the user becomes cursed by the sea and loses the ability to swim. Warning: The taste is rated as 'exceptionally bad'—comparable to rotting waste.]"
Ren's mouth twitched.
He now understood why Shanks would joke, "Can't this thing be made to taste good?"
If the System—which usually cataloged everything neutrally—rated it as "exceptionally bad," then it must be beyond saving. No amount of spices could fix a curse.
After careful consideration, Ren placed the Devil Fruit in a display case under the counter, next to Riven's broken sword.
"A souvenir," he muttered. "I don't need to sacrifice my ability to enjoy a bath for the sake of so-called power. Especially since there was nowhere in this peaceful world where I needed to turn into rubber or split my body."
Meanwhile, in a different dimension.
In a dimly lit lounge filled with the smell of sweat and muscle spray.
"Do I have a match tomorrow?" a deep, gravelly voice asked.
"No," a cunning-looking man beside him replied, checking a tablet. "Are you going to do something, Gaolang?"
The muscular man, Gaolang Wongsawat, the Thai God of War, stood up. He twisted his neck, cracking it loudly.
"There's a place I need to see. A restaurant my brother mentioned. I can go by myself."
"Alright~ Be careful."
Gaolang walked out, his shadow stretching long in the hallway.
As the events of the night concluded, a sliver of pale light gradually rose in the sky outside the Restaurant. Dawn was breaking.
Ren closed his book on fishing lures. He walked to the shop entrance, unlocking the door to let in the morning air.
The breeze was a bit damp, carrying the scent of dew and distant traffic. It invigorated Ren, who wasn't tired to begin with thanks to his enhanced constitution.
But as soon as he woke up fully, he remembered the phone call from last night.
Kure Raian.
And the "acquaintances" coming tonight.
His head started to ache phantomly.
"I really hadn't expected them to come as a group; the Kure Clan is a bit too ridiculous. They eat like locusts."
"You seem to have a headache?"
A cool voice spoke from beside him.
Ren turned. Lucifer stood there, leaning against the doorframe.
"Mm. Some acquaintances are coming tonight, and the shop is going to get noisy again. It's such a hassle~"
Lucifer stood beside Ren, watching the slowly rising sun with him. The orange light bathed her face, softening her sharp features. She felt a rare sense of peace.
She had been out of Hell for some time now, but this was her first time watching the morning sun like this—quietly, without plotting or ruling. It felt... pretty good.
Ren suddenly thought of something. He turned his head to size up the shapely Lucifer.
She was wearing the same thing she wore yesterday: her white suit with the red undershirt. It was wrinkled.
Lucifer also noticed Ren's gaze scanning her. She subtly took a step back, crossing her arms. A hint of panic flashed in her eyes.
"What are you looking at? Is there dirt on my face?"
Hearing Lucifer's words, Ren thought for a moment and said bluntly, "You slept in that last night? The suit?"
Lucifer looked down at her neat (but wrinkled) suit and nodded blankly. "Yes. It's my uniform."
Was there something wrong with that? Demons didn't really do pajamas.
Just as she was about to speak to defend her fashion choices, Ren reached up and flipped the sign to 'Closed'. He turned to enter the shop.
Lucifer was a bit bewildered by this. She followed him. "What are you doing? Are we opening?"
"No. Isn't it time to rest? The sun is up."
Ren rolled his eyes and said, "Of course, I'm making breakfast first. And then we'll leave early."
"Leave? Where are you going?"
"To take you to buy some clothes," Ren said over his shoulder as he tied his apron. "You don't wear a formal suit for casual occasions. And sleeping in a suit? I'm really impressed by you~ Your skin must be suffocating. We should also buy some pajamas. And maybe some casual wear."
Lucifer was stunned. She stood in the middle of the dining room. "Just... like that? You're taking me shopping?"
"What else? I'm really impressed by your lack of common sense. Are you really the Queen of Hell or a workaholic CEO? Go back upstairs and wash up. Come down to eat in a bit, did you hear me?"
Lucifer looked at Ren's matter-of-fact expression. He was already breaking eggs into a pan.
She puffed out her cheeks, a small pout forming.
"Oh," she said.
She turned and ran back upstairs, her heart beating a little faster.
She couldn't believe she had agreed to go shopping with a human. It was a bit too ridiculous. But... she didn't hate the idea.
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