Echo-Lyre Island · Departure Town · Old Violin Tavern
The tavern was dimly lit.
Lazy jazz music drifted through the air like old cigarette smoke.
Two groups of men dressed in black suits stood on opposite sides, clearly divided, surrounding the central sofa booth. The atmosphere was tense and suffocating.
On the couch sat a middle-aged man with a carefully trimmed goatee.
Across from him sat a bald brute whose head was nearly as thick as his neck.
They were in the middle of negotiating a deal—guns for Berries.
"What? Thirty million Berries?" Lorenzo tapped his fingers lightly on the table, dissatisfaction in his tone. "Falcone, that price is too ruthless. Most of this batch is eighty percent new…"
"Hmph, let's be honest, Lorenzo," Falcone interrupted, his thick voice rumbling. His thick fingers gestured as he spoke. "We've traded plenty of times before. This price is fair—"
His sentence abruptly stopped.
BOOM—!!!
A thunderous explosion shook the tavern.
The wooden door—far from sturdy—burst inward like it had been struck by a cannonball, splinters flying everywhere!
Click! Click! Click! Click!
Almost at the exact same moment the door flew open, every suited man on both sides reflexively drew their pistols.
More than twenty guns cocked simultaneously.
Yet none of them pointed toward the doorway.
Instead—
Every single barrel aimed at the other side of the negotiation table.
"You trying to double-cross me, Falcone?!" Lorenzo shouted, finger already tightening on the trigger.
"That's what I should be asking you, Lorenzo!" Falcone slammed the table and stood, his massive body radiating pressure. His men raised their guns in response.
"Your men?"
"Your men?"
The two mafia groups faced off like drawn bows ready to snap. One spark could ignite a bloody shootout.
And the cause of it all…
Was the shattered door.
And the three figures standing in the backlit entrance.
Sami casually glanced around the tavern, surveying the dozens of black pistols aimed across the room.
He even took a moment to appreciate the decor.
Old, but stylish.
Though judging by the situation, the place would probably need renovations very soon.
"Tsk. Quite the lineup."
Sami walked inside like he owned the place, stepping over the creaking wood fragments.
He went straight to the bar and gave the trembling bartender a friendly smile.
"Business seems good."
"Boss, three bottles of rum. We're drinking here."
Lorenzo and Falcone both turned murderous gazes toward the uninvited guest.
Anyone would be furious if their critical deal was interrupted—especially when it might be mistaken for an ambush.
Falcone forced down his anger and spoke through clenched teeth.
"Who the hell are you? Don't you know this place has been reserved? Get out!"
"You guys keep talking."
Sami casually dragged over a chair and slammed it down directly in front of the two mafia bosses.
Then he sat down boldly—stretching his legs and planting his feet right on the table between them.
"Don't mind me. We'll drink and leave."
Isaac and Aldo stood behind him like guardian statues, their eyes filled with contempt.
"You're asking for death!!!"
One of Falcone's hot-tempered men finally snapped and raised his pistol at Sami from point-blank range.
But before he could pull the trigger—
Falcone slapped his arm down.
"Stop!"
He lowered his voice.
"Put the guns down!"
At first he hadn't seen clearly because of the backlight.
But now that Sami had stepped forward, that young face—lazy yet faintly manic—perfectly overlapped with a bounty poster in Falcone's memory.
Falcone's rage instantly transformed into shock.
Then he forced a stiff smile onto his face and did a complete one-eighty in attitude.
"Oh my! I was wondering who had such impressive presence!"
"So it's Captain Ribeira Sami of the Jellyfish Pirates!"
"Why didn't you tell us you were coming? I would've personally come to welcome you!"
"…Huh?"
This time Sami froze.
Even the casual hair-flipping motion he had been doing stopped.
He had barged in arrogantly because he was certain the other side would attack.
Perfect excuse to stretch his muscles—and maybe… gather some extra funds.
But instead—
They recognized him.
And were being this… obedient?
"You know me?"
Falcone's smile grew even more sincere.
"Oh come on. Your 69 million Berry bounty—who in the West Blue doesn't know it?"
He turned toward the bar.
"Bartender! What are you standing there for?"
"Bring Captain Sami and his brothers the best rum we've got! It's on me!"
"..."
(Internal thoughts: This isn't how the script goes.
Aren't your lackeys supposed to attack me so I can beat them up and rob you?
How am I supposed to start a fight now?)
Falcone kept his flattering smile and turned toward the scowling Lorenzo.
"Looks like our deal won't work out today. Unexpected circumstances. I'm sure you understand."
Lorenzo snorted coldly.
His dark eyes scanned Sami and Falcone before he waved his hand.
Without another word, he led his men out of the tavern.
"Hmph."
Sami crossed his legs lazily.
"Who was that guy? Acting all high and mighty."
"Oh, him?"
Falcone turned back with even more enthusiasm.
"Just some mediocre arms dealer. Nothing worth mentioning."
"Come on, Captain Sami! It's an honor to meet you. Today's drinks are on me!"
The bartender quickly placed three unopened bottles of rum on the table.
Falcone personally picked one up, exaggeratedly wiping the bottle's neck before handing it to Sami.
"Drink?"
Sami's face twisted into a mocking smile.
"Hey, Baldy."
Falcone leaned forward politely.
"Yes?"
"Your acting sucks."
Before anyone could react—
Sami grabbed Falcone's wrist and twisted it backward.
"Gah—!"
Falcone screamed.
With his other hand, Sami snatched the rum bottle and shoved its neck straight into Falcone's open mouth.
"You like this drink so much—"
"Have the first toast yourself."
He tilted the bottle nearly vertical.
Amber liquor poured violently down Falcone's throat.
"Gulp—gulp—COUGH! COUGH—!!!"
Falcone's eyes bulged as he struggled wildly, but Sami's grip was like iron.
The liquor flooded his windpipe.
His face turned purple.
"Boss!!!"
"You dare touch our boss?! I'll kill you!"
CRACK—!
Sami moved even faster.
The bottle smashed across Falcone's bald head with a vicious swing.
Glass shards and rum exploded everywhere.
"AAAH! COUGH—!"
Falcone staggered backward, dizzy and bleeding.
Clutching his swelling scalp, he roared furiously.
"Ribeira Sami! You bastard! I offered you a drink and you—"
"A drink?"
Sami interrupted coldly, flicking the liquid off his hand.
"There's powder all over the bottle neck. You think I'm blind?"
"And besides—"
He stepped forward slowly.
Killing intent spread through the room.
"I've been sailing the West Blue for six years."
"And the people I rob…"
"…are exactly you mafia bastards."
"When have any of you ever treated me nicely?"
"So suddenly acting like a loyal dog—"
"What other reason could there be besides trying to poison me?"
"Damn it! He figured it out!"
Falcone's face twisted as the scheme collapsed.
"Brothers—ATTACK!"
He pulled his pistol from his waist and roared.
"That 69 million Berry head is mine!"
"Move!"
Sami gave the command almost simultaneously.
Behind him—
Isaac and Aldo burst forward like unleashed tigers.
The fragile peace inside the tavern shattered instantly.
The fight exploded.
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