If Vir knew about this, he would definitely give Marco a big, loving hug.
Marco really knew how to handle things properly — clean and efficient.
He understood that Katakuri and his crew were just following orders. None of them were warmongers at heart.
That's why Marco didn't go for the kill.
Instead, he waited for Whitebeard to arrive and make the final call.
If Whitebeard had decided to finish Katakuri with that slash, Marco wouldn't have said a word. After all, that was the price for daring to reach beyond their grasp—no matter the reason.
But since Katakuri survived, Marco immediately thought of Vir.
He basically set up the connection for them.
If they wanted Katakuri back on his feet, Vir was their only option.
Marco had seen the extent of Katakuri's injuries firsthand.
But whether they'd take the offer or not was up to them.
Marco had already done more than enough...
Honestly, it was kinda tragic. Among the right-hand men of the Emperors (excluding the Red-Hair Pirates), Marco was undoubtedly the strongest.
Yet even the two guys weaker than him both had Conqueror's Haki.
Only poor Marco didn't... It was something that frustrated him to no end.
---
"Spread your legs wider. Yeah, just like that."
"Huh? This feels kinda weird... Are you sure it's okay?"
"Totally fine! Just follow my lead and leave the rest to me."
On the calm sea, a small sail-less ship sped swiftly toward its destination.
On the deck, two figures stood close together.
"This stance is more stable. Otherwise, with all the rocking, how are you supposed to stir-fry anything? You'd be lucky not to flip the whole pan over."
Vir held Shirahoshi's arm, patiently teaching her the basics of cooking.
If she was tagging along, she had to pull her weight—and cooking seemed like a good fit.
But having grown up confined in the Hard-Shell Tower, Shirahoshi had zero experience in the kitchen. She barely recognized seasonings, let alone pots and pans.
Asking her to cook was a stretch, so Vir had to guide her step by step.
Thankfully, she was a quick learner.
Lighting the stove, adding oil, tossing in the ingredients, and stir-frying—she'd picked up the basics.
The only problem? She kept falling on her butt.
Even the smallest wave would send her tumbling. Vir couldn't take it anymore and stepped in to correct her posture.
Worse, she never figured out why she kept falling—she just kept standing stiff as a board.
"O-Okay! Vir-sama, just wait a little longer, I'll finish soon!"
Shirahoshi's furrowed, determined expression made Vir both amused and exasperated.
"Stop calling me 'Vir-sama'. Sounds weird. Just call me 'Big Bro Vir'!"
Sitting down, Vir grinned as he took a sip of the cola Shirahoshi had poured for him.
"Huh? Oh, okay! Big Bro Vir-sama!"
*Pfft—!*
Her earnest tone made Vir spit out his drink.
Alright, fine. The "-sama" just wasn't going away, huh?
This girl was a lost cause...
Wiping the cola splattered on his face from the sea breeze, Vir sighed and took a few more gulps to calm himself.
Before long, Shirahoshi brought over a plate of fried rice.
She stood beside him, eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Without a word, Vir picked up the plate and dug in.
One bite.
That was all it took for him to nearly put on the Pain Mask™.
His review? Three words:
Salty as hell!
How in the world did she manage this?!
Glancing at the kitchen, Vir spotted the salt jar—once full—now completely empty.
Pale-faced, he slowly turned back to the plate in front of him.
Then to Shirahoshi's hopeful gaze.
Oh.
Oh no.
He was trapped.
What the hell was he supposed to do now?!
Girl, you're way too young to be weaponizing fried rice like this!
In that moment, Vir finally understood the true meaning of "culinary danger".
Under Shirahoshi's burning gaze, he calmly nodded.
"Mmm! This fried rice... I can only say one thing! Perfection! I must praise this dish! So... flavorful! Shirahoshi! You're a natural-born chef! This is amazing!"
Vir's expression was over-the-top, spouting classic lines left and right.
But after his speech, he quietly set down the plate and reached for his cola...
Yet Shirahoshi's face lit up with joy!
Her tightly clenched fists finally relaxed as she clasped her hands together, beaming.
"Really, Big Bro Vir-sama?! It's really good?! Then I'll try some too!"
She reached for the spoon, but Vir—seeing her excitement—couldn't bring himself to stop her.
She was still young. The truth was too cruel. Better to let her believe.
She was just starting out—no need to crush her spirit. He was the one who forgot to teach her about seasoning. Next time, she'd get it right.
For now, let her have this win.
"N-No, no! This is mine. Don't eat it."
Shirahoshi stopped, but her eyes remained fixed on him.
Vir knew exactly what she was thinking.
The Pain Mask™ returned.
Honestly, he was starting to regret this.
In the end, he ate it.
But as the fried rice disappeared, so did an entire barrel of milk...
Shirahoshi, satisfied, happily skipped off to enjoy the scenery on deck after Vir made her a new (proper) batch of fried rice.
Meanwhile, Vir chugged milk like his life depended on it.
All he could think was: Hats off to you, Sanji...
"Big Bro Vir-sama! What kind of bird is that?! Why is it wearing a hat?!"
Hearing that cursed title again, Vir's face darkened.
"That's a News Coo. Give it half your pocket money, and it'll give you a newspaper."
"And stop calling me 'Big Bro Vir-sama'! You dumb ostrich!"
Vir's frustrated shout echoed across the sea.