Chapter 33
The storm hadn't let up.
Rain hammered the deck like artillery fire, and the wind screamed through the rigging with enough force to make the entire ship groan in protest. Inside the cramped galley, the crew huddled together—soaked to the bone, exhausted, and staring at what should've been enough food supplies to last a month.
Should've been.
Luffy had been begging Sanji for food since the moment they'd crash-landed onto the deck.
"Sanji! I'm starving! All that fighting made me so hungry!"
"Fine, fine!" Sanji grumbled, rolling up his sleeves despite the bags under his eyes. "One hot meal, coming up. But this is it until morning, you hear me?"
Even in the tiny galley, the cook worked his magic. A steaming plate of beef stew with fresh bread—enough to feed three grown men—appeared like a miracle. The aroma filled the room, warming the air and making everyone's stomachs growl.
Sanji set the plate down in front of Luffy with obvious pride. "There. One of my specialties, made with—"
INHALE.
The food vanished.
Not eaten—vanished. Plate, stew, bread, garnish, gone. Luffy leaned back with a satisfied sigh, patting his still-flat stomach.
"Ah! That hit the spot! Got any more?"
Dead silence.
"WHAT?!" Zoro exploded, nearly dropping his sake bottle. "That was enough food for three people!"
"I blinked and it vanished!" Usopp wailed, rubbing his eyes. "Did he eat the plate too?!"
Sanji stared at the empty space where his masterpiece had been, cigarette dangling from his lips. "I… I slaved over that stew for twenty minutes. I used the good wine. He treated it like a damn snack."
Nami was already calculating. Her face went pale. "We have enough food to last a month," she said slowly. "Unless Luffy keeps eating like that. Then we're doomed by next week."
"A week?" Silas looked at the supply crates, then at Luffy's expectant grin. "Try three days."
"I'm not that bad!" Luffy protested cheerfully.
"YOU JUST INHALED DINNER!" the entire crew shouted.
Usopp started pacing, hands flailing. "We're trapped on a ship with a human garbage disposal! We'll starve before we reach the next island!"
"Maybe we can ration it," Nami said, desperate. "Lock up the food. Scheduled meals—"
"Schedule?" Luffy tilted his head. "What's that mean?"
Zoro took a long drink. "It means you can't eat everything the second you see it, you rubber moron."
"But I'm hungry now," Luffy whined.
"YOU JUST ATE!" Sanji roared.
The storm outside seemed to mock them, rain pounding harder against the windows. They were stuck here until it passed—and with Luffy's appetite...
"Someone's going to have to guard the food," Nami declared. "Take shifts. Make sure he doesn't eat us into starvation."
Everyone looked around. Zoro was still recovering. Sanji needed sleep to cook. Usopp would probably faint if Luffy looked at him wrong. Nami had to monitor the storm.
"I'll take first watch," Silas sighed, rubbing his temples. The day had been long enough—fighting Marines, getting chased by a sword-obsessed woman, being launched through by a rubber captain—and now this. "Someone's gotta keep our captain from dooming us all."
"Really?" Luffy's eyes lit up. "Wanna play a game? I try to get food, you try to stop me!"
"That's not a game," Silas said flatly. "That's me preventing mutiny."
---
An hour later, the rest of the crew had settled into their hammocks. Silas sat alone in the galley, positioned directly in front of the food storage, armed with a heavy iron frying pan and what remained of his patience.
This is my life now, he thought grimly. Former Lone Hunter. Wielder of a legendary sabre. Reduced to playing night guard against a rubber boy's stomach.
The ship creaked around him. Rain continued its assault above. Somewhere in the distance, Zoro's snoring mixed with the storm's roar.
Peace. Quiet. Maybe this wouldn't be so—
Squeak.
Silas's eyes snapped to the galley door. It was barely cracked open. Just enough for… was that an eyeball?
"I can see you, Luffy," he said without moving.
The door slammed shut.
This is going to be a long night.
Three minutes of silence. Then the creaking started—soft, rhythmic, like someone trying to move very, very quietly.
Silas gripped the pan tighter.
A rubber arm shot through a crack in the wall he hadn't even noticed, stretching toward the bread basket.
"NOPE!" Silas swung the pan. CLANG.
"OW!" came Luffy's voice from somewhere outside. The arm snapped back.
"Nice try!" Silas called. "What's next?"
Soft shuffling footsteps. Silas turned to see a figure in white stumbling through the doorway—Luffy with a sheet over his head, arms outstretched, moaning.
"OooooOOOoooh… I am the ghost of… uh… Hungry Past… and I require… meat…"
Silas stared. "Are you seriously trying to convince me you're sleepwalking?"
"Ghost walking," Luffy corrected. "Very different. Much spookier. Now give ghost some food."
"Get out."
"But I'm a spooky ghost!"
"You're a terrible actor. Out."
"Fine!" Luffy threw off the sheet. "But I'll be back!"
And he was. Oh, he was ever back.
Next attempt: a mop walking upright toward the food storage. Decent disguise—until Luffy's feet became visible underneath.
"Really?" Silas didn't even get up. "A mop?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," came Luffy's muffled voice. "I am just humble cleaning supplies."
"Cleaning supplies don't talk."
"…Mop noises?"
"OUT!"
What have I gotten myself into? Silas wondered, watching his captain shuffle away. A month ago I was a free man. Now I'm playing nighttime security against the world's most persistent food thief.
But even as exhaustion crept in, something strange was happening. Each ridiculous attempt, each terrible disguise, each overly dramatic reaction when caught—it was all so absurdly Luffy that Silas found himself fighting back smiles.
These people were completely insane. Their captain was a walking disaster with the strategic thinking of a particularly impulsive sea cow. They argued constantly, got into trouble wherever they went, and apparently required round-the-clock food security.
And somehow… somehow he was starting to understand why he'd joined them.
Because they're real, he realized, settling back against the door with the pan across his knees. No pretense. No hidden agendas. Just a bunch of idiots chasing impossible dreams together.
A soft scratching sound came from above. Silas looked up to see Luffy trying to squeeze through a ventilation grate that was clearly too small for him.
"Stuck?" Silas asked conversationally.
"No!" Luffy grunted, wedged halfway through. "This is exactly where I wanted to be!"
"Uh-huh."
Despite everything—the exhaustion, the absurdity, the very real threat of starvation—Silas found himself grinning as he got up to help extract his hopelessly stuck captain from the ceiling.
Yeah, he thought. I could get used to this.