In the East Blue, a peculiar ship was sailing amidst an unknown sea. This ship lacked sails, setting it apart from others.
Vir held a glass of orange juice with a few ice cubes, sipping slowly through a straw. Fresh from his training session, he was still hot even after a shower. Relaxing on a deck chair with his drink, a fishing rod beside him, he enjoyed the gentle sea breeze and the majestic, tranquil view of the ocean—something unattainable on land.
Vir had been at sea for several days without finding the Baratie, the floating restaurant. The culprit was a faulty map he bought from a Loguetown store. Upon closer inspection, Vir realized that even the cardinal directions on the map were incorrectly labeled.
Fortunately, his ship was well-stocked with months’ worth of food and drinking water. For cleaning, he used an electric-powered seawater filtration system, which was suitable for bathing but unsuitable for drinking. After one unpleasant experience with the filtered water, he decided never to try it again.
“Unbelievable! I, a former assassin and now an adventurer, was tricked by a dishonest merchant. I should have checked the map when I bought it, but my mind was elsewhere after everything that happened,” Vir lamented, criticizing himself for the umpteenth time.
As Vir was about to resume his training, he spotted a ship in the distance. Using a telescope, he saw it was a pirate ship. When he saw the pirate flag, he couldn’t help but laugh—the flag depicted a husky-like dog with black eye circles, blue eyes, a white face, and a big nose, resembling the well-known dog breed, Siberian Husky, affectionately called “Husky.”
“Hahaha, a pirate crew using a Husky as their flag! Is there a Husky species in this world? Whatever, I won’t rob them. If they cooperate, I’ll buy a map from them,” Vir thought, amused by the sight. As the “Husky Pirates” approached, he decided to make friendly contact.
As the two ships drew close, Vir stood at the bow of his ship, observing the newcomers. A tall, heavyset middle-aged woman stood on the bow of the “Husky Pirates’ ” ship.
“Kid, what do you want, stopping a pirate ship? I’m Julius, captain of the Blue Dog Pirates,” she said, eyeing the young man curiously. Despite his youth, she didn’t underestimate him—a solo seafarer sipping orange juice, unbothered by the sea’s harshness.
“Haha, nice name for a pirate crew. I want to buy a map of East Blue from you. Name your price. Are you heading to the Grand Line?” Vir asked, finding this polite pirate intriguing. Most small-time pirates were usually arrogant, but these seemed well-mannered.
“Oh, a map? Sure, I have several of East Blue, though not highly detailed, just major locations. No charge; it’s only a few thousand Berries. We are indeed heading to the Grand Line, chasing our dreams. I aim to become a famous female pirate,” Julius said with a hearty laugh, exuding more machismo than many men.
“So, a crew with dreams. Since you’re so generous, I’ll give you some advice: once you reach the Grand Line, seek a power called Haki. It can counter Devil Fruits and is the foundation for realizing your dreams. By the way, I’m Vir. If you ever run into trouble, you can come to me for help,” Vir said, handing back the map Julius had tossed him, offering valuable advice in return.
Julius’ expression turned serious. Not only was Vir’s information about Haki, a power that could counter the mythical Devil Fruits, astonishing, but his name and twin swords jogged her memory. The Blade of Carnage, Vir, was a notorious figure in the East Blue, with countless merchants and pirates falling to his swords. Rumors even suggested he had killed Marine officers.
“Meeting such a prominent figure is surprising. Thank you for the tip, Vir. I will definitely seek out this Haki. Farewell,” she said, quickly gathering her anxious crew to sail away.
They weren’t fleeing out of rudeness but out of fear. Vir’s reputation for unpredictability and ruthlessness was well-known. Offending him could spell disaster for her and her crew. Better to leave swiftly.
“Wow, they ran off. Am I really that notorious now? What a hassle,” Vir chuckled, watching the pirates sail away, or more accurately, flee. “Guess I can’t introduce myself in the East Blue anymore. What a headache.”
After checking his position, Vir realized he had been sailing away from the floating restaurant all this time, thanks to the misleading map. His frustration with the dishonest merchant grew stronger. The next time he encountered that merchant, he’d make sure to teach him an unforgettable lesson for selling fake goods, especially to him.
Setting his ship on the correct course, Vir sailed at full speed towards the Baratie.
About a week later, he finally spotted an oval-shaped ship in the distance and approached it. Dropping anchor, he jumped aboard the floating restaurant.
The large vessel was surrounded by various ships—merchant, noble, and even Marine vessels. The Baratie’s bustling activity lived up to its reputation.
Vir walked into the restaurant and found a seat by the window. Soon, a blond-haired, curly-browed young man in a black suit approached him. It was Sanji.
“Welcome, sir. Do you have a reservation? If not, please order from the menu,” Sanji said, handing Vir a menu.
Politely accepting the menu, Vir didn’t bother to look at it. “Forget the menu. I want all the house specialties personally prepared by you and Zeff. I don’t want food from anyone else,” he said, returning the menu to Sanji.
“Sir, that’s a bit difficult. The head chef’s dishes require a reservation, and I’m currently filling in as a waiter because we’re short-staffed,” Sanji explained, declining Vir’s request.
“Haha, you’re a tough one. Tell your head chef Zeff that Vir wants to taste his specialties. He’ll cook for me,” Vir insisted, realizing he might need to persuade Zeff to get what he wanted directly. His passion for good food was almost as intense as Big Mom’s love for sweets.
“Alright, I’ll inform the head chef,” Sanji said, assuming Vir might be a friend of Zeff’s, and went to relay the message.
In Zeff’s quarters, Sanji found the head chef grooming his mustache. “Old geezer, some guy named Vir is demanding you personally cook for him. Do you know this guy?” Sanji asked, lighting a cigarette.
“Vir? That name sounds familiar. What does he look like?” Zeff asked absentmindedly.
“Short ponytail, black coat, young, about 170 cm tall, and has two swords on his waist,” Sanji described, turning to leave, thinking Zeff didn’t recognize him.
“Wait! You said he’s young, short, and has two swords, and he called himself Vir?” Zeff stood up, alarmed. If it was indeed him, they were in trouble. Zeff wasn’t sure he could take him on in his current state with a broken leg. Vir’s temper could spell disaster for his crew.
“What? Is this Vir famous?” Sanji asked, surprised by Zeff’s reaction. He had rarely seen the old man so nervous.
“Famous is an understatement. If we don’t satisfy his taste, the Baratie’s future is uncertain. Today might end with no survivors,” Zeff replied, donning his chef’s hat, ready to cook and appease this dangerous guest.
After instructing Sanji to attend to Vir and avoid provoking him, Zeff entered the kitchen to prepare a feast.
Sanji, now aware of the gravity of the situation, returned to Vir’s table. “Sir, the head chef has agreed to your request. Please wait a moment,” he said before attending to other guests, especially the women. Despite the circumstances, Sanji maintained his charm around ladies.
Vir smiled, pleased. He would ensure the Baratie was well-rewarded if the food met his expectations. He had brought several diamonds with him and didn’t mind the cost of the meal. To him, culinary art was of immense value.
A chef who could turn ingredients and spices into tantalizing dishes was worthy of respect. Enjoying such food was a privilege Vir cherished deeply.
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