Chapter 101 – Whiskey Peak, Where the Welcome Party Has a Hidden Menu
Meanwhile, sailing the Grand Line proper,
Aike's crew got their first real taste of what made this ocean different from the East Blue: the weather.
In just a few hours:
Spring breeze → summer inferno → blizzard → repeat.
They experienced all four seasons in one afternoon.
And right after they finished shoveling snow off the deck…
a monsoon hit.
"ARRGHHH!!"
"What is WRONG with this sea?!"
Nami yanked at her hair, on the verge of a breakdown.
Every meteorology lesson she'd ever learned had just been thrown overboard.
Weird currents were one thing.
Weather flipping every five minutes was another!
"The Grand Line's weather is like that," Aike said, completely unfazed.
"Sometimes you don't even know what's falling next second."
New World was worse—rain came in literal chunks, then turned to hail mid-drop.
Currents split the ocean open without warning.
He was honestly confused by Nami's meltdown.
"Didn't you read all those books you bought in Loguetown? This is literally chapter one."
"When was I supposed to read?!" Nami snapped.
"You make me train all day, and at night you—!"
She stopped, face going crimson.
The un-upgraded quartet—Nojiko, Hikari, Kuina, Tashigi—instantly turned red.
Folded at night…
They knew the relationship, but hearing it out loud was different.
Even Carina, Kaya, and Izumi blushed.
Hinata, predictably, overheated and fainted into Yakumo's arms with a little "poof" of steam.
Aike just shrugged.
Guilty as charged.
But genius navigator is still genius navigator.
After the initial freak-out, Nami adapted fast.
She stopped relying on Aike or Carina's powers.
Pure instinct and weather sense turned the chaos into smooth sailing.
Until they reached the first official island of the Grand Line.
Whiskey Peak!
Whiskey Peak.
Public face: bounty hunter paradise.
True face: Baroque Works branch office.
Job description: greet rookie pirates with drinks, smiles, and eternal sleep.
Strong newcomers → recruitment offer.
Refuse → permanent retirement and a bounty cash-out.
Years of operation had ballooned Baroque Works' numbers
and left a small mountain of rookie pirate graves.
So when the Libra entered their radar,
the local leadership got the memo.
"Hiss—"
"The 120-million rookie supernova crew?!"
The cadres sucked in a collective breath.
"Are we seriously messing with them?"
"That bounty is insane even for the Grand Line!"
"And the captain's a Devil Fruit user. We're screwed, right?"
Miss Monday and the others looked ready to fake food poisoning.
"Bah bah bah~ High bounty just means they're rookies with big heads."
A tall man with wild golden curls—Mr. 8, the "mayor"—scoffed.
"Same plan as always. Once they're drunk and passed out, strength doesn't matter."
The reminder triggered muscle memory.
They'd buried plenty of high-bounty pirates before.
Confidence restored.
"Over a hundred million beli… if we pull this off, the boss will promote us for sure!"
"Maybe even a fat bonus!"
Greed lit up every face.
Except one.
A blue-haired girl with a long ponytail stayed silent.
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