Chapter 32: Chef on Board

"Welcome aboard, then," Koa said, sensing no malice in the chef's words—only genuine passion and purpose.

"My name is Saiba Joichiro. Please take care of me, Captain," the chef replied, bowing respectfully to Koa.

Greenbull beamed at him, already imagining the heavenly meals to come. "I'm Greenbull—that's the name Boss gave me—and I'm his right-hand man. If you need anything, just let me know. I promise I can help."

Joichiro nodded gratefully. "Really? Then please take care of me, Vice-Captain."

Despite being only twenty-five, Joichiro understood that age didn't define strength. Koa stepped forward.

"Do you need any help packing?"

"No worries," Joichiro said confidently. In moments, he'd neatly packed every cooking utensil into one enormous bag with astonishing precision.

"Let's go, then," Koa announced.

Greenbull followed as Joichiro took one last look around his restaurant, smiled quietly to himself, and locked the door behind him. Together, they headed back to the ship, now a crew of four.

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Koa, Greenbull, and Joichiro were making their way back to the ship when they found their path blocked by a large formation of Marines. The soldiers formed a tight perimeter, rifles raised and eyes sharp with intent. At their head stood a stern-looking officer with a resolute gaze.

"Maui D. Koa," the Marine captain called out, his voice unwavering. "Surrender now, or we'll be forced to take extreme measures."

There were more than a hundred Marines, all aiming their weapons at the trio. The tension was suffocating—one wrong move would ignite a bloodbath.

Koa, still riding the contentment of the meal he'd just enjoyed, looked at the officer calmly. "You don't have to do this," he said evenly. "No one needs to die today. Just turn around and walk away."

But the Marine captain held firm. "We don't negotiate with pirates." His voice carried the weight of conviction. He wasn't just following orders—he believed in what he was doing. For him, pirates were a threat to the innocent, and justice meant stopping them at any cost.

Koa's expression shifted slightly, a faint trace of respect glinting in his eyes. "Your courage is admirable. It would be a waste for the Marines to lose someone like you." He turned slightly, eyes still on the captain. "Greenbull, restrain them. No casualties."

"As you command, Boss," Greenbull replied.

With a stomp of his foot, thick vines and roots exploded from the ground, wrapping around the Marines with swift, precise movements. Their weapons were ripped from their hands and shattered like twigs. Not a single Marine was harmed, but none of them could move.

The captain struggled against the restraints, gritting his teeth—but Koa simply walked past him without another word.

Joichiro, trailing slightly behind, cast a small smile at the scene. The fact that Koa chose to spare honest men doing their duty only confirmed what his instincts had already told him—he had chosen the right captain to follow.

"This is the price of your honesty, Marine," Koa said as he stepped forward, standing before the restrained captain. His voice wasn't mocking or hostile—it was steady, sincere. "Keep protecting the innocent. Punish those who deserve it. I may fall into that category in your eyes… but it doesn't change the respect I have for your conviction."

The captain tensed, staring Koa down, still straining against the roots, but no longer with anger—only realization.

Koa looked around at the stunned soldiers, most of whom had dropped their weapons and lowered their eyes, overwhelmed not by fear, but by the sheer dominance and restraint Koa's crew had shown.

"You didn't fire," Koa continued, voice quiet but heavy. "That's why you're still breathing. And so are your men."

He turned his back, his coat fluttering in the breeze. "Let's go," he called.

Greenbull nodded, and with a wave of his hand, the roots loosened and withdrew back into the earth. The Marines stumbled slightly, freed but shaken. Not a word came from them. Only silence. Respectful. Sobering.

As Koa, Greenbull, and Joichiro walked away, not a single shot was fired. The captain lowered his head, his hands clenched.

"I could've gotten them all killed…" he muttered under his breath, the weight of what didn't happen settling in his chest.

Behind him, his subordinates stood still, silently grateful for another day.

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As Koa, Greenbull, and Joichiro returned to the port, they were immediately met with a surreal sight: dozens of pirates frozen solid, their expressions locked in shock and terror. The frost had even crept across parts of the dock, turning the once-bustling area into a chilling graveyard of ice.

And there, lounging casually on the deck of the ship, was Kuzan—arms behind his head, legs crossed, looking like he hadn't a care in the world.

"What happened?" Koa asked calmly, though his eyes took in the icy scene with a flicker of irritation.

Greenbull, unfazed, began hauling their supplies onto the ship. Joichiro stood beside Koa, his brows raised in silent shock at the aftermath.

Kuzan yawned and waved lazily. "Same old story. Couple of idiots thought they could rob us. I gave 'em a chance to walk away. They didn't listen."

Koa sighed. "Well, that's on them." Then he gestured toward Joichiro. "Anyway, this is Saiba Joichiro. He's our new chef. Welcome him aboard."

Kuzan sat up slightly and gave a lazy nod. "Sup. Name's Kuzan. If Greenbull already introduced himself, he probably claimed he's the right-hand man. Don't mind him—kid likes to pretend. I'm the actual number two on this ship. Strongest after the Captain."

Joichiro raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Ah, that makes more sense. I was wondering why the Captain would take a child as his right hand. Guess that clears it up."

"HEY!!" Greenbull shouted from below deck. "I AM the right-hand man! He said so himself—twice!"

Koa just smiled faintly as the ship's sails caught the wind.

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Hours had passed since Koa's ship vanished over the horizon. Back on the island, the Marine base sat in uneasy silence.

Inside his office, Captain Chiriku stared blankly at his desk. The hum of activity outside no longer reached his ears—his mind was replaying every detail of the encounter with Koa. The effortless way he and his crew subdued over a hundred trained marines. The overwhelming power. The mercy.

He clenched his fists.

"Too weak… I couldn't even protect my men, let alone stop them."

After what felt like hours of silence, Chiriku finally exhaled, deep and heavy. He reached for a drawer, pulling it open with determination. Inside, untouched until now, was a sealed invitation: a formal summons to the Marine Academy in Marineford—an elite program reserved for future Vice Admirals and beyond.

He had declined it before. His reason was simple: the South Blue needed protection, and he had believed his presence here was enough.

Now he knew better.

Without hesitation, he reached for the den den mushi on his desk and turned the dial. After a moment, the snail blinked and mimicked the voice of someone from Marine HQ.

"Report."

"This is Captain Chiriku," he said firmly, steel in his tone. "I would like to inform the Marine Academy that I accept the invitation to transfer. Effective immediately."

There was a pause. Then:

"Understood. Your presence is expected within the week. Congratulations, Captain."

As the call ended, Chiriku stood up. He walked to the side of his office and unlocked a secured chest—one he had guarded for years. Inside, nestled in velvet cloth, was a Devil Fruit.

Its swirling pattern pulsed faintly, like it was waiting.

Chiriku stared at it, then picked it up. He didn't know its exact name, but it had been in the care of his family for generations, passed down from one guardian of justice to the next. He had sworn never to use it unless the seas became truly desperate.

Today, he made his decision.

With a single bite, the transformation began.

He was no longer the same Captain Chiriku.

He would train. He would grow stronger. And one day...

He would bring Maui D. Koa to justice.