Chapter Text
The next morning came with a lazy rise of the Grand Line sun and the Strawhats were slow to rise with it.
Mouth open and drooling, the resident sniper and nominal shipwright let out a particularly loud snore. His arms and legs were contorted in odd shapes as he swayed in time with his breaths. He snored again. Then tensed. Kicking out with a mumble.
The kick landed.
With a yelp, one blond-haired cook found himself face down on the hardwood floor. His cheek smarting. Groaning, he lifted his head up. Blearily looking around to find the rest of the boys cabin still swaddled happily in the land of dreams.
Frowning, he rubbed his cheek and looked over in the direction of his hammock. Noticing how close Usopp’s foot was to where he slept gave him all the information he needed.
In less than a second, the Chef of the Strawhats vaulted himself up with an impressive push of his legs. His hand snapped out and latched onto the sniper’s ear. Pinching hard with no remorse.
Usopp let out a squawk. Hands flailing as he struggled to grab what had his ear.
“I’d like to thank you for volunteering to help me cook breakfast, nitwit.” Sanji harshly whispered. Only barely concerned with waking the rest of his room. It was the best he could give, as his head ached and his eyes burned from the unexpected release from sleep.
“Huh?! Yowch!” The sniper let out more whimpers as he was dragged by his ear and out of the room. “What did I do? Sanji! Let me go!”
The rude awakening left the sniper equally as grumpy and unamused as his chef-mate. He was scowling rather harshly. Stomping after the irate blond. Though he knew better than to complain as he held everything that Sanji gave him from out of the “extra pantry”. It was actually the hallway storage closet but with how close it was to the kitchen, Sanji had taken it over for long-term food storage.
No one had any complaints about it. As it hadn't really been used for anything other than a hide-away spot for Nami’s penchant to hoard money and other necessities.
She still tended to use the space to stockpile for future needs, Usopp knew. He would catch her from time-to-time creeping over to the extra pantry and grabbing things. Mostly, it was a small, brown sack. He really didn't know what was in it. Nor did he need to know.
Girls could be so weird sometimes.
Usopp blinked when Sanji cleared his throat. “Yeah?”
“You mind heading over to Chop’s Corner in the lower deck, after helping me drop all of this off on the counter?” The blond asked. Already leading the way to the galley. “He keeps swiping my chamomile and I want to make our lovely ladies their morning tea to go with their breakfast.
“Sure… whatever.” The sniper grunted. Not at all awake to begin a quest through the ship for anything other than coffee.
As if reading his mind, the chef smirked over his shoulder at him and said, “I’ll make you your favorite bean blend if you do it quickly!”
“Aye, Aye, mate!” There was only a dissipating cloud of dust where Usopp once stood.
Sanji let out a small chuckle.
Singing the slow beginnings of what he planned to be his own theme song under his breath. The Strawhat marksman nearly tripped and fell down the stairs as he made his way to Chopper’s Corner. It was a section of the second deck that the reindeer had taken over for medical purposes.
It wasn't exactly ideal. Their doctor made sure to remind everyone of his unhappiness with the current set up every chance he could get. Nobody could blame him. It only had the bare necessities for medical check ups and emergencies. With everything else Chopper needed either placed in his own section of storage or on the “Strawhats Needs” list that Nami primarily maintained.
Usopp passed by Sanji’s brother, tucked and bundled warmly within one of Chopper’s fluffy blankets. Hands reaching out to search the shelves for chamomile. Glass clinked as he searched through jars and containers of different sizes. He treated this as serious as a mission of life or death.
The creation of the most delicious of nectars was on the line, after all! There was nothing that could keep him from it—
“Well, good morning…” A voice spoke up beside him. Gravelly from lack of use throughout the night.
Usopp blinked and leaned away from the shelves. Turning his head to meet head on with a bright pair of sky blue eyes. Sanji blue. Turns out their prisoner was awake. Peering up at the sniper with dark sunken eyes and sickly pale skin. Shivers wracked up and down his body. Still wrapped snugly in the blanket.
There was a clinking of metal as the man shifted. A shackle was clasped around his ankle. Connected to a bar on the wall. Then there was the rainbow collage of bruises on the left side of his face. The top of his head was wrapped like a mummy, from that awful crack into that pole.
It kind of made Usopp feel bad. Seeing the guy so beat up and kinda pathetic.
“Uh… hey. I see you're awake!” Usopp gave him an awkward wave. Was that the correct greeting for this guy? Apparently he was mean enough to make even Sanji quake in his shoes. “How are you feeling…?”
“I've been better.” Sanji’s brother —it was Nanji, right? Noji? Ninja? Probably not Ninja— gave him a crooked smile. It dropped as he took a look around him. “You, uh, wouldn't mind letting me in on where I am? I remember getting hit really hard… but I'm not too sure by what or who.”
“Ah… well.” Was it really Usopp’s place to out Sanji? No, decidedly not. He was too cowardly to get himself in the middle of that. “We had our ship’s doctor look you over and nurse you back to health. I wasn't really given the verdict, but since no one was given a roster to keep an eye on you— you probably didn't get a concussion. Lucky you. You're pretty durable.”
“Born and bred.” Sanji’s bro laughed to himself, like some inside joke only he was privy to. “The name’s Masked Deuce, by the way. Journalist for Water 7’s Reservoir Editorial.”
“M-Masked Deuce?” The sniper sputtered. “...Are you sure?”
The proclaimed Masked Deuce let out a another chuckle. Easing himself slowly up into a sitting position with a grunt. “Ah! So you've heard of me, have you? I promise, my pirate days are long behind me. I may still technically have a bounty, but I'm far less inclined for the lifestyle these days.”
Well, that was a lot of information to unpack. Apparently the guy was a well known pirate of the Grand Line and expected people to fear him. Usopp gulped and brought up a shaky grin. “Oh-ho— that Masked Deuce! Well, thanks for the reassurance. If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go get our doctor to check you over again, now that you're awake!”
Usopp booked it. Not wanting to stay with the pirate-journalist guy anymore. Was he even actually Sanji’s brother? Even Sanji hadn't been entirely sure. Maybe this was proof enough he wasn't?
He went for Sanji first. Stumbling and tripping over his feet as he ran for the galley. Bursting through the door he found himself somersaulting into a sitting position. It took him a couple minutes to stop hyperventilating.
Sanji had come over to crouch near him with a firm hand on his shoulder. “Hey man, you doing okay?”
“He— he—” Usopp gasped for air. Clutching at his chest. Sanji’s face twisted darkly as his teeth ground against his cigarette.
“Did he hurt you?” The chef asked. Expression turning grave and angry. “Usopp, did Niji do something?”
“N-no… not Niji— he called himself Masked Deuce!” The sniper reported. “I'm not sure he's your brother.”
Sanji let out a considering hum. Brows furrowing in contemplation. Deuce was still another name for two. “I still think he is. The eyebrows are a give away. Plus his hair is blue. A lighter blue than I'm used to, sure. But still like Niji.”
“He could just be a guy that looks like your brother.” The sniper argued. Allowing for his nakama to help him up. “He says that he was a former pirate but now a journalist.”
“What?” Sanji faltered, but didn't want to veer off into a whole new avenue of conversation just yet. “You said he was calling himself Deuce?”
“Masked Deuce.” The sniper nodded.
“Masked Deuce?” Both men turned to see Robin make her way in. “I had thought he seemed familiar.”
“You know of him?” Usopp asked. “He made himself sound like he was some big time pirate but we haven't heard anything about him yet.”
“He’s fairly notable, certainly. Considering he was once Fire Fist Ace’s Vice Captain. Back when they were still the Spade Pirates and before his crew assimilated into the Whitebeards.” Robin took a seat at the table and quietly thanked Sanji when he gave her a steaming cup of coffee. “No tea?"
“Sorry. Usopp didn't bring it up like he was supposed to.” Sanji huffed.
“The tea!” The sniper cried, slapping the palm of his hand against his forehead. “Dang it! Your stupid, scary brother distracted me.”
“So, he was with Ace for a time?” Sanji pushed on. His stomach churned at the thought of what Germa might want with Ace. “Why the heck would Luffy’s brother ever willingly associate with the likes of him?”
“I couldn't say, Sanji-kun. That's a question only he and Fire Fist could give you the answer for.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “Is there anything else you want to know about Masked Deuce?”
“Everything you can, please.” The chef brought three plates filled with breakfast to the table and sat down to join them. Listening intently to everything Robin had to say.
Usopp was quietly sobbing into the tablecloth. Devastated that he hadn't been able to successfully complete his mission. Leaving his coffee to not be of his favorite blend. Curse you Masked Deuce! You have just become the Great Captain Usopp’s mortal enemy! Not that he could enact any revenge. Facing an evil commander of an army sounded scary!
Then his head lifted up and he screeched before booking it out of the galley, yelling, “I forgot to tell Chopper that his patient was awake!”
Usopp, after going through all the trouble of waking Chopper and sending him Deuce’s direction, was practically crawling his way back toward his likely-now-cold breakfast. Left all alone and not eaten on the table. He’d need to eat it no matter what, ‘less he invoked the mighty wrath of the Hand that Fed Them. Or in this case, the Foot.
With sulky tears welling up in his eyes he put all of his weight against the door. He had little energy. All of his adrenaline zapped. Leaving himself feeling icky and empty, not yet having been able to enjoy a single bit yet today. At least his stomach was properly demanding. It might prove choking down his cold food easier.
Stumbling in, he nearly bashed his nose into Sanji’s shoulder. “YeOW! Sorry, man, i'm still not entirely there, yet.”
“That’s okay, don't worry about it.” The chef let out a puff. Not hesitating to grab Usopp’s arm- far more gently than the normal rough tug he would playfully resort to- and led him to the table. Letting the marksman lean on him for support. “I kept your food warm for you. Also, here.”
A mug of steaming of dark liquid passed over his shoulder and settled neatly onto the tablecloth. The smell it emitted made Usopp nearly begin to drool. It was his favorite coffee blend! “Oh, wow! Thanks, Sanji! You’re the best, y’know that?”
“Heh. Nice of you to say.” The chef gave him a firm pat on his shoulder. Making his way out onto the open deck. “Just wanted to do something to thank you for dealing with one-fourth of my awful batch.”
Usopp let out a gleeful hum and dug in.
.
“I hope I didn't scare your comrade too much, Dr. Chopper.” Deuce gave the small, if fascinating, creature a concerned frown. He was trying to keep still as the ship’s doctor poked and prodded at the injury on his head. It worried him a bit, as the little guy kept looking more and more troubled as the minutes passed. “Hey, uh, just checking… but i'm gonna live, right?”
It was mostly a joke, but one could never be too careful. Especially when they lived in the Grand Line. Even if it was in Paradise. It had become an unfortunate reality for him to have need of doctors he wasn't always familiar with, as his job focused a lot on a need for travelling throughout all seven chains of this side of the Grand Line.
At first, it had been mostly a worry due to the nature of his modifications. With the need to find professionals who would actually attend to the “patient confidentiality” oath. Lessening as his mods slowly went offline, one-by-one. It became more of a distress, instead, on the thought of strangers’ hands all over him. Even in a necessary setting. The feeling of anxiety, border lining on disgust, would often ease when the doctor was a woman.
It was enlightening to find that women professionals were easier for him to handle, due in part to the fact that Germa held men in higher standards to woman. Which meant that very few of the finer gender were ever able to make it up to any high standing in the sciences.
Unfortunate that he had to have that realization in his mandatory therapy sessions. An agreed upon term for the deal he had taken, all those years ago. He was just thankful that his weekly sessions had turned into one session a month.
“You should be alright within the next couple of days or so.” Came the adorably squeaky voice of his current doctor. Making his preferred comfort in doctors extend to women and one little brown fur-ball. He really needed to ask what the heck this little guy was. He looked like a racoon dog, but the antlers suggested some type of deer. Maybe a hybrid? “And don't worry about Usopp, he is pretty fretful on a good day. He’s a fantastic storyteller though! You should definitely ask him about one of his many adventures. He’s such a courageous and talented guy!”
“He sounds like a good man, then.” Deuce smiled. Willingly tilting his head at Chopper’s prompting. Would the little doctor be okay to allow him to run some simple, noninvasive tests on his person? It wasn’t everyday a former scientist, like himself, got to be witness to such a unique specimen. They would need to go to his personal lab back home, though.
“He is!” Chopper let out a giggle.
It took everything in Deuce not to absolutely melt at the sight of the little guy’s smile. This dog-deer could ask him to jump off a cliff and he would. No questions asked. It must be some sort of pheromone of his species. A defense mechanism, perhaps? A siren call of cuteness.
The doctor got distracted again. Lips down-turning as he finished rebandaging his patient’s head. Thankfully, the journalist didn't have to wait for long to figure out what might have been wrong.
“Are you dealing with any numbness or dizziness concerning the gash on your head?” The dog-deer scrambled down off of the chair he’d been standing on. Running with click-clacks against the wood grain for his clipboard.
“The normal level of pain, doc. It was a little sharp when your hand brushed against the deeper part of the wound, but everything else was more of an unhappy-sore feeling.” Deuce dutifully reported. It wasn't pleasant, but nothing that required any painkillers.
Chopper shot him another look. Apparently he was still bad at comforting people.
“Most people would still be too debilitated to be so chatty and awake. With an injury like yours, I was surprised to hear that you'd woken up this morning.” The doctor admitted. “I wasn't expecting to see you up and around for another two days, in the least. Let alone in so little pain.”
Ah, it was just another tick on the “you're a freak” list, then. Deuce let out a sigh and rested his hand on his hand. “I have a high pain tolerance. It’s… not something I'm willing to divulge, I'm afraid. Will that be an issue?”
“It shouldn't be.” One of Chopper’s ears flicked as he scribbled into his notes. “Do you know your typical prescription for painkillers?”
“I don't need any, doc—”
“That wasn't the question.” The dog-deer’s head shot up and leveled him a glare that could combust an entire marine warship.
“...I’m not entirely sure.” That was a lie. He did know. Mainly because he had at one point been one of very few to know of his medical history. Though, he still needed permission to access anything about his mods. An allowance he had only been allowed once in his life.
“Hm. Then would you mind—” Chopper sharply turned his head.
The calm clack of someone walking towards them slowly crescendoed in their ears. It was strange how heavy the air suddenly became. Almost as if it threatened to cave Deuce in. It hadn't happened often, but it was something he'd gone through before. Haki. Conquerors. Something about it didn't press on him like the few other times he’d dealt with users of its kind. Seeming more instinctual than deliberate.
A yellow straw hat was the first thing he caught sight of. The brim of it was dipped low. Only allowing for Deuce to see the shadowed chin of its wearer. The boy —he was too skinny and lengthy to yet be a fully-grown man— also wore on his person a red vest and jeans with the hems rolled up to his knees.
Deuce stiffened. Straightening up his back. If he hadn't stared down at the very Wanted poster just yesterday, he'd have not immediately recognized Monkey D Luffy.
Such a new player to the chess board. About six months going on seven and he'd already kicked up so much fuss. Already having taken down one of the Warlords. Fought against at least two New World level pirates and won with hardly a scratch. Liberated two kingdoms. There was no island they've gone to that didn't sing of their exploits.
He and his whole crew were practically babies in comparison to the rest of the more well-known pirates and yet they've already gone so much farther than any of them ever did when they were starting out.
The minute they reached their full potential, there was no doubt that the whole world was going to change as they knew it. It was shocking that the Marines weren't more scared.
And the way he was staring Deuce down didn't bode very well. The journalist’s breath hitched. Eyes going wide. Sanji is believed to be on this ship. His Sanji? He couldn't yet say.
Even still, something within him cried, He-knows-he-knows-he-knows
He wasn't ever supposed to be near the Strawhats. He wasn't supposed to interact with them. Let alone healed by their ship’s doctor, who had to have been a very recent addition. I’m not ready to face this part of my past yet— please-no-please-no-please
He should have known better than to leave Water 7. Should have remembered that he just couldn't get to this damn festival without something going wrong. It always went wrong.
Well, there was no point in beating around the bush was there? Not when the Captain was clearly out for blood. Might as well admit to his sins and accept the consequences. Because it was about damn time, wasn't it?
He could still defend himself. Act docile and then use the element of surprise to attack when it was least expected. Escape and hide amongst the big crowds of Vivara until he could hitch a ride on the Puffing Tom, back to Water 7.
He could… but he'd sworn off unnecessary violence a long time ago. He didn't want to run anymore. These last five years had been the closest thing to a real life than he'd ever had. But it was time to stop pretending he wasn't the killer, monster, abuser that he'd been created to be.
Deuce’s arms shook when he began to slowly shove himself off the patted medical cot. His feet skidded along the floor to keep him stable. He dismissed the cry from the little fluffy doctor. Ignored the little hooves that tried to push him back.
With a grunt he used the cot to maneuver himself slowly onto his knees. Never once did his eyes leave the Strawhat Captain’s. Didn't look away until he had bent down and pressed his forehead against the floor.
“Monkey D Luffy. Captain of the Strawhat Pirates. I would like to thank you for the time and effort you put into healing me. You certainly didn't have to. Especially given the… potentially strained relations between myself and a member of your crew.” Deuce’s eyes slid shut as he let out a shuddery breath. He opened his mouth to continue but found that he couldn't figure out where he was taking this.
Despite his earlier freak out, he honestly wasn't fully sure that the cook of this crew was even actually named “Sanji”, let alone was his brother. The reports weren't actually confirmed. The cook might not even have the same name as his brother. Or had the same name but was still someone else entirely. Though what was the likelihood that someone in the East was given a name that originated from the North?
The silence that reigned in the lower deck was nearing excruciating. Nothing escaped its vacuum, save for the breaths they took.
“You're the brother to my cook, right?” The Captain finally asked. It made the journalist flinch. “He said your name was Niji.”
His hands curled into fists as he tucked his body smaller. Trying to hide his face like the coward he was. A sharp lance of pain struck true through his chest at the realization that yes, it turns out it is my brother. Sanji has been alive this whole time. Far, far away from Germa 66. Living his passion as a sous chef in some eastern restaurant. Then he became a pirate. Like me.
It sounded lovely really. Exactly the kind of thing that Sanji would go for. He'd always been such a kind-hearted rebel. Like mom.
“I was known as Niji once, yes.” Deuce answered breathlessly. “But that was a very different time of my life. A very dark time.”
“Then what do I call you?” The Strawhat Captain asked. His tone sounded a bit lighter but his haki continued to hold the whispers of warning.
“I'm known by most as Masked Deuce.” His knees were digging into the wood grain rather painfully but he refused to pull out of his willing submission.
“Well, I think you and I need to have a chat. But I can't do that on an empty stomach— and we can't eat unless you get up from the floor and walk with me!” The Captain let out a rather boyish cackle and Deuce found an abnormally long limb wrap itself around his torso three times.
“W-wha— wait!” The journalist yelped. Trying to fight against the appendage. His mind attempting to mentally compute the fact that he did, indeed, know about the rubber powers. But it was one thing to know and one thing to see. He found himself half-dragged into the boy’s side. Forcing his face to squish awkwardly a little too close to the rubber brat’s armpit for his liking.
“Luffy, no!” The doctor huffed. Running over to pull at his nakamas' vest. “If you're gonna take him, then we need to unlock his cuff. Also, you don't even know if I'm finished with his check up!”
“Oh.” Luffy blinked. His head tilted. “Have you finished, Chopper?”
The dog-deer gaped for a moment. Then wilted, as if he held the entire weight of the planet on his shoulders. “Pretty much, yeah. But we still need to unlock his cuff.”
Another cackle came out of the weird rubber kid, “Okay!”
The stones in Deuce’s stomach grew heavier with every step he took. His muscles were taut as he nearly jumped at every shadow that moved. As if his little brother would come crawling out of the darkest corner and enact his righteous judgement on him. Emotions sucked hard sometimes.
The closer he went to the top deck, the more likely he would run into one of the— no, the worst mistake of his life. He was going to be forced to endure all of the wrath and anger of the one brother who most deserved to punish him.
He wasn't ready, but that would never matter.
Sanji deserved to get his closure. In any way he saw fit.
It would be nice, though, if his last hours left to live weren't occupied by probably the most ADHD teenager he’d ever met.
The kid had dragged him into the galley with probably the most single-minded focus he’d ever seen. Attention immediately overtaken by the food that had been left in containers on the counter. A beautifully crafted buffet of delicious breakfast foods.
Deuce’s mouth watered as he watched Luffy pile on an impressive pile on his plate. He shuffled over to sit at the table. Eyes never leaving the Strawhat, save for a quick glance at the door. The whisper of, it would be so easy to slip away, he didn't even restrain him, filtered through his mind and was subsequently tucked away.
He clasped his hands neatly on top of the table.
Luffy’s cheeks were stuffed like a chipmunk. Happily waddling to the opposite side of the table as he sang an incommunicable tune with his full mouth. All of the food was gone before the plate even touched the table and so was the Captain’s attention-span.
Which led to Deuce laying his forehead against the tabletop as he struggled to endure one of the most inane conversations he'd ever had. Pure torture. Was it on purpose? What the heck was he talking about? Flying octopi and dancing wolves? Ghost ships?
He’d make an imaginative storyteller if he could learn to communicate his stories better. He wondered when they were going to finally have their "chat"? The creak of the door opening and shutting was a welcome reprieve. As Luffy leapt up with a squeal and latched onto the newcomer.
There was a grunt when the rubber boy’s landing struck true. A deep voice grumbled out a low, “G’morning, Captain.”
“Zoro~! Look, look— Niji-Deuce is awake!”
Well, his chance to escape had passed, hadn't it? He now has both Strawhat pirates with actual Wanted posters in the room with him.
“Hm? Two-two, huh? Well, okay then, Double-Two. You don't look like you're doing very well right now. Getting tired of my Captain?” There was certainly no little level of snide amusement in the swordsman’s voice as the man drew closer. “I don't blame you. Wouldn't expect a little blueberry like you to be capable of keeping up with Luffy.”
Irritation shot through him. Bringing his head up to shoot an incredulous glare at the— his eyebrows shot up when he got a good look at Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro. “Whoa… your Wanted poster really doesn't do it justice.”
“What?” The swordsman smirked. His chest puffing out as he pushed Luffy off of his arm and beside Deuce on the bench.
“You look like moss is growing out of your head.” Deuce blinked his wide eyes. Tilting his head as he leaned over to look closer. “It’s really uncanny…”
“What?!”” Zoro yelled in rage. His teeth bared with a hand gripping the hilt of Wado. “You're kidding me! You've been conspiring with your brother against me, haven't you?”
“Huh?” Deuce ducked his head down. “I haven't seen any of my brothers in years. Sanji, far longer than the rest.”
“Yeah, right. That’s just what you want me to think.” The swordsman muttered sulkily to himself. Jerkily swiping a plate and angrily shoved food onto it.
Deuce just stared at Zoro as he came over to sit directly across from him. The mossy First Mate plopped down with a grunt. Shoving aside the messy, empty plates that’d been left from the stretchy nuisance. Then glared up at their captive suspiciously.
Though his gaze softened as it travelled down to the empty space on the table before the other man. “Hey, what’d you choose for breakfast?”
“Hey, that’s right, you didn't get anything yet!” Luffy frowned. He raised an eye at Deuce. “Aren't you hungry?”
“Oh… well…I know better.” Deuce turned his head only just enough to see the breakfast spread out of the corner of his eye. The hands on his thighs scrunched up the fabric of his slacks as they balled into fists. “Sanji wouldn't want me to eat his food.”
He could feel the stares from his two current companions, but he couldn't bring himself to look back at them.
“Your funeral, buddy.” Zoro, after that heavy moment of silence, finally said through the fork of food he’d just shoved into his mouth. “Maybe the Sanji you knew before wouldn't want you to eat his food, but the current one now is gonna whoop your ass for not having a nutritious meal.”
He’s already going to do that. What’s another round going to do? Was the snide comment Deuce wanted to say. But his tongue felt like lead and he just really wasn't in the mood, nor in the position, to begin arguing with the crew who held power over him.
He stayed quiet as the Captain of the ship and his First Mate began to talk in earnest about some strength competition currently being held in the festival. Head tilting down until his unkempt and clumpy, oiled hair flopped unceremoniously over one eye. As it was naturally want to do.
His nose crinkled in distaste and he tried to push it back up and over his ear. Only to flip back over for a second time. He accepted it grudgingly. Glaring dimly at the tablecloth design.
Not once taking notice of the side-eyed interest of the swordsman. Who took in the shape of his face with his bangs and found it uncannily similar to the Strawhat’s favorite cook. Even going so far to having that same pout. Zoro smirked into another forkful of food.
This guy was gonna be about as gratifying to rile up as his brother, huh?
All-in-all Zoro was having a rather gleeful morning at the prospect of another good fight on hand —if Sanji’s clear indication that all of his siblings were strong is true. Especially since they were gonna keep this one whether anyone liked it or not, on Captain’s orders. Or at least, it was growing more clear by the second that Luffy liked their newcomer.
Getting to teach an idiot blueberry a lesson while also getting a workout? Sounded like fun.