Kapitel 269: Chapter 269
I couldn't help but frown, surveying the rest of the crew, all in various stages of drunkenness. Even Lucci—who was typically the picture of self-discipline—had joined the others in raiding the stash of sake that Miyamoto had painstakingly set aside for special occasions.
"Keelhaul... pfft... that's what ya do for tiny problems... we're pirates, we gotta be bold!" Smoker muttered, barely managing to stand upright as he clung to the edge of the table for support, the scent of alcohol heavy on his breath. His face was flushed, and his usual scowl was replaced by a lopsided grin.
Across the deck, Miyamoto stood frozen in disbelief, his face pale with horror as he cradled an empty sake pot in his hands. His eyes were wide, lips trembling, as he slowly processed the destruction of his precious stash.
"M-my sake... why...?" he whispered, his voice breaking as he held the pot close, tears beginning to pool in his eyes. "How could this happen...?"
To make matters worse, even Mansherry and Leo, normally too small and too innocent to partake, had somehow gotten into the mix. They wobbled around in drunken bliss, giggling uncontrollably as they tried—and failed—to keep themselves upright.
Luckily, there hadn't been enough sake to get Dora drunk, or the entire ship might have been flipped upside down by now.
"Whose idea was this...?" I asked, my tone sharp as I stood before the crew, who were now lined up in what could barely pass for a straight line. They looked like chicks waiting for punishment—or rather, chicks who had been drinking heavily for the first time in their lives.
Their faces were red, their postures swaying, and their eyes glazed over with a mixture of confusion and tipsy joy.
"It was me! Me! My idea!" Smoker piped up proudly, raising his hand as if he'd just won some kind of award. He was completely oblivious to the seriousness of the situation, his grin widening like a child who thought he'd done something impressive.
I let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Smoker, you're not understanding the situation..." Before I could finish, I noticed Lucci glaring daggers at Smoker, his face twisted in irritation. He was slightly more sober than the others, and now his regret was starting to show as he realized just how deep they'd dug themselves.
"Don't you dare glare at him, Lucci," I warned, crossing my arms as I gave him a stern look. "This is as much your fault as it is Smoker's. In fact, I'm disappointed in all of you. You're not even adults yet, and here you are, getting into the sake like it's some kind of joke. What am I supposed to do with you lot?"
Lucci muttered something under his breath, his frustration clear, but he didn't dare talk back. Smoker, still beaming with drunken pride, gave a thumbs-up to no one in particular, swaying dangerously on the spot.
Meanwhile, Miyamoto had reached his breaking point. He was now fully cradling the empty sake pots, tears streaming down his face as he rocked back and forth. "My... precious... sake...!" he sobbed, his voice cracking with despair.
"You heathens! You drank it all... every last drop! Years of carefully aging... all gone... in a night of madness!" He hugged one of the pots tighter, as if that would somehow bring the liquid back.
Robin, completely unbothered by the chaos, hiccuped again and raised her cup in Miyamoto's direction, swaying on her feet. "To... to the mighty sake... hic... that gave its life... for our joy!"
"Stop giving toasts!" I shouted, my patience wearing thin as Robin giggled. "This is not a celebration!"
Mansherry and Leo, still giggling in their tiny, tipsy states, tried to mimic Robin's toast but ended up falling over, laughing uncontrollably as they tumbled across the deck like drunken marbles.
Just as I was about to lecture them all further, Smoker—completely unphased by the chaos—muttered, "We could've keelhauled someone, though... for real..."
"No one's getting keelhauled!" I barked, exasperated.
Suddenly, Robin raised her hand, blinking through her drunken haze. "Permission... to speak, Captain!" she slurred, trying to stand at attention but nearly tipping over in the process.
I sighed again. "What is it, Robin?"
"Keelhaul Lucci!" she declared with a loud hiccup, grinning mischievously. "For glaring... too much!"
The entire line erupted into giggles, Smoker included. Even Lucci, though still glaring, couldn't stop the corner of his mouth from twitching, as if resisting the urge to laugh.
I groaned, running a hand through my hair. "What am I going to do with you lot?"
As the crew stumbled around in their drunken stupor, Miyamoto's wails of despair echoed through the ship. He was still hugging his sake pots like they were fallen comrades, inconsolable as the crew giggled and swayed, completely oblivious to the storm they had caused.
Tomorrow, they'd be in for one hell of a punishment. But tonight... tonight was chaos.
The next morning, the promised punishment came in full force. Smoker stumbled out of the cabin, rubbing his temples as he tried to fight off the pounding headache from last night's sake-filled antics. His bleary eyes scanned the deck, where a truly bizarre sight greeted him.
"Ahhh... damn. I am never drinking again," Smoker muttered, his voice hoarse. As he blinked away the haze, he saw Lucci, Robin, Mansherry, Leo, and even Dora—all scrubbing the ship's deck like their lives depended on it. Even tiny Mansherry was furiously rubbing the wood with a rag almost as big as she was, while Leo's face was scrunched in determination.
Smoker wiped his eyes and squinted again. Yup, there they were, even Dora, grumbling under her breath while scrubbing the mast like a disgruntled sailor.
Before Smoker could quietly sneak back into the cabin and avoid the same fate, a familiar hand gently, but firmly, clamped around his neck.
"Finally," I said with a slow, ominous grin, leaning down next to him. "The mastermind behind yesterday's chaos has graced us with his presence." My creepy smile sent a shiver down Smoker's spine.
"I, uh… I think I've got a bad tummy ache. Really, I need to—" Smoker barely got the words out before I started dragging him toward the deck, where the others were scrubbing with military precision.
Miyamoto, usually the kind-hearted samurai with a soft spot for the crew, was now a terrifying drill sergeant, pacing with a cane in hand. His face was stony, and with every misstep, the cane tapped ominously on the deck.
"I don't feel so good," Smoker muttered weakly, glancing longingly back toward the cabin. But there was no escape now.
As I hauled him closer to the scrubbing frenzy, I gestured toward the scene. "Take a deep breath, Smoker. Really breathe it in and tell me what you feel." My grin widened.
Smoker hesitated, but after a firm nudge, he obeyed. He inhaled deeply—and immediately gagged. The salty sea air was now mixed with the lovely stench of last night's vomit.
Everywhere.
A distinct combination of sourness and despair lingered over the deck, thanks to the aftereffects of their so-called "secret" party. With Dora having contributed heavily to the pukefest, the mess was, shall we say, memorable.
"Ewwww... that stinks!" Smoker retched, covering his mouth and nose.
I gave him a hearty slap on the back, stopping his gag reflex with the force of it. "That smell is your handiwork. Now, I want this ship cleaner than it's ever been. If I find even one spot, or if this stench lingers, you'll be cleaning latrines for the rest of your lives. Do I make myself clear?"
Smoker nodded vigorously, too terrified to argue. His headache was now the least of his problems. The others didn't even glance up—they knew better. They scrubbed with desperate focus, trying to erase the evidence of their drunken mischief before Miyamoto's cane came down on them.
Just as the group was making some progress, the sky darkened ominously, clouds thickening above like an impending storm. The first few drops of rain splattered onto the deck. Perfect timing.
"Ross!" Dora grumbled, trying to wring out her rag as the drizzle began to turn into a downpour. "Why am I being punished? I'm an adult! I can drink if I want!"
I raised an eyebrow, grinning as I glanced over my shoulder at her. "Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that. Should I call Loki and let him know what his 'adult' sister was up to last night?" I chuckled, watching her face go pale as she shut up immediately, turning back to furiously scrub the mast without another word.
"Good. Now, get back to work," I said, wiping my hands. "And Smoker…" I gave him one final push toward the deck. "If you don't join them, I'm sure the others will be more than happy to keelhaul you themselves." I grinned wickedly as I walked away, leaving Smoker to stare in horror at the filthy deck.
"Great… just great," Smoker muttered under his breath, finally grabbing a rag and joining the others.
Miyamoto stood tall with his cane, a single tear of pride and justice running down his cheek as the crew continued their punishment. His beloved sake may have been lost, but at least this memory of their suffering would live on forever.
Meanwhile, as I stepped inside the cabin, I sneakily manipulated the clouds outside, ensuring that the rain would fall just long enough to make their job even harder. These kids were going to learn the lesson of a lifetime.
Outside, the crew continued to scrub through the drizzle, their spirits dampened by both the rain and their hangovers. Smoker winced as his aching muscles protested. Robin hiccupped mid-scrub, while Leo and Mansherry grumbled about having such tiny hands for such a big mess.
And through it all, Miyamoto stood watch, the rain-soaked, grim-faced samurai, who had seen it all, now taking great pleasure in the kids learning the consequences of their wild ways.
*******
Wanokuni, New World
"Have you found him yet?" Kozuki Oden, the Shogun of Wano, sat in his grand seat, his voice heavy with tension as he addressed his retainers, Inuarashi and Nekomamushi.
The two Minks, usually brimming with energy, now stood with their heads bowed in frustration. They had been tasked with finding Gecko Moria, the notorious pirate who had escaped from the prisoner mines.
Normally, Oden wouldn't have been so concerned about the escape of a single pirate, but Moria had committed an unforgivable crime. He had dared to steal the corpses of Wano's greatest samurais, including the body of none other than the legendary Sword God, Ryuma.
Oden's fist clenched on the armrest of his chair as he thought about it. Ryuma, the guardian of Wano's honor, the man who had defended the country from all invaders—his sacred remains defiled and taken away by some grave-robbing pirate.
Inuarashi and Nekomamushi, despite their usual bravado, looked ashamed. They had scoured the land, the forests, and the seas around Wano, but they had found no trace of Moria.
"We… we failed to track him down, Oden-sama," Inuarashi muttered, his ears drooping. Nekomamushi clenched his fists, his usual fiery spirit dimmed by the weight of their failure.
"We've searched everywhere, but Moria has vanished without a trace."
Oden's face was stern, but he did not blame them. The fault was his own; he had underestimated Gecko Moria's cunning. After capturing the pirate, Oden had assumed the man would accept his fate quietly. He had not expected the dark plot Moria had woven. His mistake had left the graves of Wano's most honored warriors desecrated.
The Daimyos of the various regions of Wano were furious. The corpses that had been stolen weren't just ordinary graves—they belonged to their ancestors, some of the most renowned swordsmen in Wano's long history. The country's honor, its pride in its samurai, had been spat upon.
Kin'emon, one of the most loyal retainers by Oden's side, entered the hall. His usual calm was replaced by a somber expression.
"Do we know how many have been taken?" Oden asked, his voice edged with the tension he was trying to contain.
"In total… thirteen, Oden-sama," Kin'emon replied with a gloomy tone, eyes cast downward.
"Each one a renowned samurai, their names etched forever into Wano's history. The swordmasters who shaped this country's legacy…" His voice trailed off, bitter with regret.
Even the ancestors of the Kozuki clan had not been spared. Two of their honored forebears' graves had been robbed, their bodies now in the hands of Moria. This made the insult all the more personal to Oden.
The room fell silent for a moment, the gravity of the situation hanging thick in the air. Oden's retainers, though fierce warriors in their own right, knew what this meant. Moria's theft wasn't just about the bodies—it was an attack on Wano's spirit, on the very heart of their samurai pride.
"How could we let this happen…" Oden muttered, rising to his feet. His voice was quiet, but the power behind it was unmistakable. His eyes burned with determination, and his usual carefree demeanor had hardened into something fierce.
He had protected Wano through trials that would have broken lesser men. But now, the honor of his country had been violated, and he would not stand for it.
"We will not rest until we find him," Oden declared, his voice growing in strength. His gaze swept across the room, landing on each of his retainers. "He took the legacy of our ancestors—Ryuma, the Sword God, and many more. This insult to Wano will not go unanswered."
Inuarashi and Nekomamushi straightened at his words, their spirits rekindled by Oden's resolve. Kin'emon nodded, stepping forward again, his jaw set with determination. "We will expand our search, Oden-sama. We won't stop until Moria is found, and the honor of Wano is restored."
"No, it might not be enough…" Oden muttered, pacing the floor of the grand hall. His mind raced with possibilities, but none felt sufficient. Wano's borders were closed, and searching for Gecko Moria in the vast sea would be like hunting for a shadow in the darkness.
Moria was a slippery pirate with countless tricks up his sleeve, and the world outside Wano was large—too large to search with ease.
One of the retainers, hesitant but determined, broke the silence.
"Do you think we should reach out to Whitebeard-san?" He suggested, knowing that the might and resources of the Whitebeard Pirates could greatly increase their chances of finding Moria.
The name alone held weight in the room, but so did the implications of involving outsiders.
Oden stopped in his tracks, giving the idea deep consideration. Whitebeard was not just a powerful ally but also a dear friend.
However, after a long moment, he shook his head. "No. This is a matter of Wano's pride. Unless it's absolutely necessary, we must handle this ourselves. We can't burden them with our problems."
The retainers exchanged knowing glances. They understood. This was their fight. Wano's honor was at stake, and it was their duty to reclaim it. Oden, the Shogun of Wano, had never been one to run from a challenge, and they wouldn't either.
"Denjiro," Oden said, turning to the fierce samurai, "form an elite squad of warriors. As Shogun of Wano, I grant you the authority to leave the country's borders in pursuit of Gecko Moria. Bring him to justice, and most importantly, retrieve the bodies of our ancestors."
Denjiro bowed deeply, accepting the heavy responsibility. "I will gather the finest swordsmen in Wano and ensure that the honor of our ancestors is restored."
Oden's gaze then shifted to Inuarashi and Nekomamushi, who had been at his side throughout his journey into the outside world. Though the samurai of Wano were mighty, few had the knowledge of the seas needed to track Moria. The Minks, however, were seasoned sailors.
"I trust one of you will accompany Denjiro on this mission," Oden requested.
The two friends exchanged glances. Inuarashi nodded, and Nekomamushi grinned, stepping forward.
"I'll go, Oden- sama. Denjiro and I will find that grave-robber and bring him back in chains."
Many other retainers and even some Daimyos stepped forward, volunteering to join the voyage. Oden left the final decision to Denjiro, trusting his discretion in choosing the best warriors for the task.
As the retainers left to make preparations, Oden turned to Kin'emon, his most trusted vassal.
Only Oden's closest men remained now, the room filled with a quiet intensity.
"Kin'emon," Oden began, his voice softer, "have you found my father?"
Kin'emon's expression grew grim as he shook his head. Despite their best efforts, they had not been able to locate Kozuki Sukiyaki, Oden's father, the former Shogun of Wano.
He had disappeared after Oden reclaimed the throne, and though Oden had learned from Orochi that his father was still alive, Sukiyaki had vanished into the shadows, seemingly punishing himself for the suffering Wano had endured.
Oden sighed heavily, turning to gaze out the window at the picturesque view of the Flower Capital. The vibrant landscape stretched out before him, but it did little to lighten the weight in his heart.
"Where are you, old man?" Oden whispered, his voice filled with both frustration and longing. "Now that I've become the man you always wanted me to be, you're not here by my side…"
---
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of the Wano Country, near the rocky shores, a small caravel was being prepared for departure. Though the waters surrounding Wano were treacherous, there were certain hidden paths that could be navigated by a skilled sailor in a small boat.
An old man, cloaked in a simple disguise, busied himself with securing crates and supplies. It was clear he was planning a long journey.
"Shogun-sama… is this really necessary?" Uzuki Tempura, one of the Daimyos, asked, his voice thick with concern as he helped the former Shogun pack.
Though Kozuki Oden now ruled as the rightful Shogun of Wano, Tempura and Ushimaru still held deep respect for Sukiyaki, and they were troubled by his decision to leave.
Sukiyaki smiled, a sad, weathered expression on his face. "Tempura, how many times do I have to tell you? Oden is your Shogun now. I am just an old man who led Wano into suffering. I do not have the right to be called Shogun anymore."
Ushimaru, the Daimyo of Ringo and head of the Shimotsuki family, stepped forward, trying once again to persuade him. "Sukiyaki-sama, Oden has become the man you envisioned—maybe even more. Why not return and stand by your family? Your grandchildren will miss you."
Sukiyaki chuckled, though there was a heaviness in his eyes. "If I returned, that brat would just throw all the responsibilities back onto me and go off on some wild adventure again. Oden's finally become the man he was always meant to be. Don't you think it's better this way?"
He paused, gazing out to the sea. "As for my grandchildren… well, it can't be helped."
"But I am just going to be with my old friend in East Blue, so don't worry... Maybe once the borders of Wano are completely opened in the future, you guys can come meet this old man," Sukiyaki chuckled.
Ushimaru sighed, knowing Sukiyaki had made up his mind and . "So, this is where that old man's been hiding all these years…" he muttered.
Sukiyaki's destination was no mystery to Ushimaru. As a member of the Shimotsuki clan, he understood exactly what Sukiyaki meant by his journey to the East Blue.
Sukiyaki turned to them one last time, handing over a letter. "Give this to Oden after some time," he said, his voice soft but firm. "And let the brat know I'll be taking Nidai Kitetsu with me. It seems the blade has found its calling."
Both Tempura and Ushimaru said nothing as they watched the former Shogun board his small boat, the wind beginning to pick up along the coast.
The wrapped katana Sukiyaki carried was one of Wano's most prized treasures—a Great Grade blade, passed down through the Kozuki clan for generations. Yet Sukiyaki carried it with the same gentle reverence one would offer to an old friend.
As the boat began to drift away, Sukiyaki looked back one last time, the weight of Wano's history and his own regrets heavy on his shoulders. But beneath it all, there was a glimmer of hope—hope that the future of Wano would be brighter, and that maybe, one day, he would see samurai once again walking the shores of East Blue.
And with a final wave, he disappeared into the horizon, leaving behind the land he had once ruled, and the son who had surpassed him in ways he never imagined.
*****
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