Far away on the Grand Line...
A scene was unfolding that felt strangely familiar.
A bar.
Laughter.
Voices.
The clink of mugs.
Only this bar was massive.
The tables were thick slabs of carved wood. The stools looked like they were made for giants. The ceiling arched so high it disappeared into shadow. Even the bottles behind the counter were the size of small barrels.
And at the bar...
A boy was yelling.
??: come on! Don't be so stingy! I'm not kidding around here ok! I told you I wanna go! So why won't you take me with you! Let me in your ship!
The voice cracked with frustration.
The boy turned sharply, clearly not small by any normal standard, but still dwarfed by the room around him. He had messy pink hair that fell over one eye, and a Viking-style helmet perched crookedly on his head. His fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were white.
From a table came a lazy, teasing reply.
??: Not a chance
Boy: But I'm ready! And I'm not afraid to die!
??: oh yeah, even more reason not to take you
The boy spun back around, slammed onto a stool, and crossed his arms in a dramatic pout.
Boy: I wanna go adventuring come on please!
He leaned forward, eyes burning.
Boy: I'm tough! And I've got more guts than anyone on the island!
The man behind him didn't even turn.
Man: that's nice, but we have strict no hit headed brats rule, sorry it's just policy
The boy growled under his breath.
Behind the counter, a tall blond bartender wiped a massive mug, clearly entertained.
Bartender: better stop while your ahead, keep this up and our captains are going to get their feelings hurt
Boy: I don't care! Shanks is the only one I want to sail with! I've been getting stronger by the way! I'll be your top crew member in no time
He jumped up onto the stool, turned fully, and shouted.
Boy: you gotta take me please!!!
The man he was yelling at calmly lifted a cup of sake, took a slow drink, and exhaled in satisfaction—clearly enjoying every second of this.
Boy (angry): what do I have to do! To get you to listen to me!
Another voice joined in, amused and low.
Benn (chuckles): still in the habit of provoking little kids, eh boss
A man with grey hair, a cigarette between his fingers, and a long scar across his face leaned back against the bar.
Nearby, an enormous man with goggles and a red-and-white striped hat bit cleanly into a fruit almost the size of his head.
Lucky Roux (amused): keep making fun of em and they might do something crazy
He chewed loudly.
Lucky Roo: little guys like him are all spirit and no brains
Benn exhaled smoke.
Benn: it's nothing to laugh at. spirit's a dangerous thing
Another man leaned forward, big lips splitting into a grin—wild-eyed, animated, unmistakable.
