The little girl's face peeked out from beneath the counter, full of fear.
Bucky offered her a reassuring smile and said,
"Don't be afraid. We're good people—we're not going to hurt you. Come on out. If we meant you harm, hiding there wouldn't help anyway."
Hearing his words, the girl instinctively gave a small nod. She understood that what he said made sense—if they wanted to hurt her, there was nothing her hiding could do.
Under the watchful eyes of the crew, she crawled out from under the counter.
Once out, she kept her head lowered, nervously rubbing the hem of her oversized chef's coat between her small fingers.
Her behavior made it clear that she was still very scared, but that was to be expected. After all, she didn't know these people, and at her age, fear was natural.
"Come here," Bucky said gently. "We're not going to hurt you."
"Yes… Sir," she replied timidly, stepping toward them in hesitant, small strides.
When she reached him, Bucky took a moment to study her. She looked no more than six or seven years old—at that age in his past life's China, she'd still be clinging to her mother as a cherished little treasure. But in this cruel world, she might have already been living on her own for years.
Judging by the situation, she might have even been the ship's cook, working hard just to prove her worth and avoid being discarded. With such a frail body, she must have suffered greatly to survive this long.
"What's your name? How old are you?" Bucky asked, keeping his tone as warm as possible, smiling to put her at ease.
Perhaps it was his red nose, or maybe just his slightly comical appearance, but the girl's lips twitched into a fleeting smile before she quickly looked down again.
"My name is Jessica, sir… I'm eight years old," she said softly.
Hearing the name, Bucky's mind began to search his memories.
Jessica… he was sure he'd heard it before. Somewhere in his previous life, that name was tied to an exceptional chef. But he couldn't immediately place it.
The girl lowered her head further, unsure why he had gone silent. She waited anxiously for him to speak again.
Bucky tilted his head slightly to look at her, and then, noticing her blonde hair, it clicked.
He remembered. She was indeed a chef, but not for pirates. She would one day become the head chef of the Marine G-8 Branch and the wife of its commanding officer, Jonathan.
Her cooking philosophy was to provide Marines with balanced daily nutrition, while also using delicious meals to relieve their fatigue. She had both skill and conviction—qualities of a true chef.
Bucky couldn't help but smile. Maybe their ship had just found its cook.
"Jessica, where's your home? Do you have any family?"
Her expression immediately crumpled into sorrow, tears spilling down her cheeks to the floor.
Seeing this, Bucky knew his suspicion was right—her family had likely been killed by the thugs they'd just dealt with. He didn't press her for answers, letting her cry in peace.
After a while, Jessica realized her slip in composure. She quickly wiped her tears with her small hands, glanced up at Bucky, and spoke:
"My home is in the Kingdom of Lubni. My parents… were murdered by those filthy bastards. They told me that if I didn't obey them, they'd kill me too."
She then recounted her story.
Her parents were the head chefs of a restaurant in Lubni. From a young age, she had been immersed in the world of cooking, developing her passion and skill early.
Her tragedy began when she was traveling with her parents, and they crossed paths with members of the Don Quixote Family. Her parents died protecting her, slaughtered without mercy. Seeing her youth, the pirates spared her, planning to sell her as merchandise.
Later, at a gathering, she demonstrated her culinary talent. Impressed, they kept her as their cook instead. Secretly, she bided her time, waiting for a chance to take revenge. If Bucky's crew hadn't eliminated them, she might have done it herself someday.
"Do you have any other relatives in Lubni? Our next destination happens to be there. If you do, we can take you to them," Bucky offered.
Jessica's eyes dimmed, her face heavy with grief.
"No, sir. I have no one left besides my parents."
Bucky was quiet for a moment before saying,
"Then stay with us for now. If you ever find somewhere else you want to go, we'll take you there."
He didn't mention his real intention—recruiting her as their ship's cook. It was too soon, and after just escaping captivity, such a proposal might make her wary.
Better to wait until they knew each other better—by then, she'd likely agree without hesitation.
After Jessica's story, the crew, along with her, made their way to the ship's lower deck.
The space below was vast. Bucky had already sensed what was here with his Observation Haki, and Jessica knew too.
Row after row of iron cages filled the area. But they didn't hold animals—each one contained a human.
The captives were filthy, malnourished, and hollow-eyed, as if all hope had been stripped away.
One glance was enough for Bucky to understand—these were the "goods" the Don Quixote crew had mentioned.
Turning to Weibull, Bucky ordered,
"Weibull, open every cage and let them out."
"Got it, cousin."
Weibull swung his massive blade, slicing through the cages with ease.
Even with the cages open, the prisoners didn't move. They sat or lay where they were, unresponsive.
Bucky sighed, then said loudly,
"The people who captured you are all dead. I'm declaring you free."
A few eyes flickered with light at his words, but most of them just stared blankly.
"Jessica, talk to them," Bucky said.
He knew they wouldn't believe him easily. But Jessica had been one of them, almost sharing their fate. Her voice might reach them.
Jessica stepped forward.
"It's true! Those awful men are gone—these people saved us! If they say you're free, you are!"
At her words, more eyes began to brighten. Some prisoners slowly leaned against the walls, pushing themselves unsteadily to their feet.