After several minutes, the dojo's main doors slid open with a soft whisper, revealing a middle-aged man with a distinctive appearance. His graying hair was pulled back in a traditional topknot, and wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose gave him an scholarly air. Despite his gentle demeanor and perpetually squinting eyes, there was an unmistakable aura of quiet strength about him.
"Please forgive me, Gustave-san," the man said, bowing respectfully. "My student Zoro has caused you considerable trouble today. I am Shimotsuki Koshiro, master of this humble dojo."
"Think nothing of it," Gustave replied with a warm smile, returning the bow with appropriate courtesy. "Zoro was simply being hospitable. If anything, we're the ones imposing on your kindness."
The similarities between father and daughter were immediately apparent—both possessed the same gracious, apologetic nature when it came to dealing with their directionally-challenged student and son-figure.
"You've been standing outside long enough," Koshiro continued, gesturing toward the dojo's interior. "Please, come inside where we can speak more comfortably."
Gustave accepted the invitation graciously, and their group followed Koshiro through the entrance.
The dojo's interior was genuinely impressive—a vast space easily capable of accommodating over a hundred students. The central area featured a large, flat training ground where dozens of children were practicing their sword forms under the watchful eyes of senior students. Their wooden bokken clacked rhythmically as they worked through basic patterns and sparring exercises.
The young swordsmen began whispering excitedly when they spotted the unusual visitors, with Po drawing particular attention. However, unlike the children who frequented the Bamboo Staff Bistro, these students maintained their discipline and continued their training rather than abandoning everything to mob the friendly panda. Koshiro's educational methods were clearly quite effective.
Beyond the training area stood a substantial two-story building that Koshiro identified as the dojo's main hall. The architecture maintained the same traditional Japanese aesthetic as the rest of the village, with elegant wooden construction and tasteful decorative elements.
"Please, make yourselves comfortable," Koshiro said as they entered the hall's main room.
The space contained several low tables but no chairs—a traditional setup that immediately caught Luffy's attention.
"Uncle Koshiro," Luffy asked with characteristic bluntness, pointing at the empty floor space, "how are we supposed to sit down without any chairs?"
Gustave seized the opportunity that his young friend had unknowingly provided. "In traditional settings like this, Luffy, people sit in seiza—kneeling with your legs folded beneath you. It's an ancient custom."
While Gustave understood the cultural significance of the practice, he also knew that extended kneeling could become quite uncomfortable. Having Luffy voice the question saved everyone from potential awkwardness.
"How thoughtless of me!" Koshiro exclaimed, looking genuinely embarrassed. "I should have considered that you might not be accustomed to our traditional seating arrangements. Please, sit however feels most comfortable for you."
"We appreciate your understanding," Gustave replied, settling into a cross-legged position that would be manageable for an extended conversation.
Koshiro's eye twitched slightly at Gustave's casual approach to formality, but he seemed more amused than offended by their relaxed attitude.
Following Gustave's lead, the rest of the group arranged themselves comfortably around the low table. Kuina and Zoro soon joined them, the girl carrying a tea service with practiced grace.
"I understand from Zoro that you've traveled here from quite some distance," Koshiro said, pouring tea for his guests. "May I ask where you've journeyed from?"
"We're from Windmill Village in the Goa Kingdom," Gustave replied, glancing meaningfully at Zoro. "We're doing a bit of exploring, seeing the sights of the East Blue."
Zoro immediately broke into a nervous sweat, realizing he'd completely forgotten to mention this crucial detail when his master had questioned him earlier. He'd been so flustered about getting lost that he'd only managed to stammer something about "people from outside."
"Zoro," Kuina asked with concern, noticing his sudden distress, "what's wrong? You look overheated."
"It's just... uh... a bit warm in here," Zoro replied weakly.
Gustave had to suppress a laugh. The temperature in Shimotsuki Village was actually cooler than Windmill Village, making Zoro's excuse particularly transparent. The boy definitely needed to work on his deception skills.
Koshiro smoothly changed the subject, clearly recognizing his student's discomfort. "What brings you to our waters, Gustave-san? What do you do in Windmill Village?"
"We operate a restaurant," Gustave replied modestly. "A small establishment called the Bamboo Staff Bistro."
"The Bamboo Staff Bistro!" Zoro and Kuina exclaimed in unison, their eyes lighting up with recognition.
"You've heard of us?" Gustave asked, genuinely surprised by their enthusiastic reaction.
"Of course we have!" Zoro practically vibrated with excitement. "Merchants and travelers are always talking about the incredible food at the Bamboo Staff Bistro! And everyone knows about the restaurant owner who goes out hunting pirates, keeping our waters safer!"
Zoro's eyes shone as he studied Gustave with newfound admiration. He'd always wondered what the legendary pirate hunter looked like.
"Ha! I had no idea our reputation had spread this far," Gustave chuckled, clearly pleased by the unexpected recognition. "That's quite flattering!"
Anyone would be delighted to receive such praise, especially when traveling far from home. The knowledge that their efforts were being appreciated by complete strangers was particularly gratifying.
"How incredibly rude of me!" Koshiro stood and formally offered Gustave a fresh cup of tea. "I had no idea I was entertaining the famous proprietor of the Bamboo Staff Bistro! Please accept my apologies for such casual treatment!"
"Please, there's no need for such formality," Gustave replied, though his broad grin betrayed how much he was enjoying the recognition.
"Hey, Zoro!" Luffy suddenly interjected, leaning forward eagerly. "Have you ever heard of the legendary hero Luffy? The greatest hero of the East Blue?"
Zoro looked at him with complete confusion. "Luffy? Isn't your name Luffy? When did you become some kind of great hero?"
The room erupted in laughter. Tom was so amused that he produced a pair of tiny cymbals from nowhere and began clapping them together in rhythm with his laughter, which only made Luffy more indignant.
"You idiot!" Ace shook his head in exasperation. "Every time we encounter pirates, Gustave rushes in and handles everything before you even get there! You spend most fights picking up the pieces or getting in the way. No wonder nobody's heard of your 'legendary hero' reputation!"
It was true—Gustave's combat skills and tactical thinking meant most pirate encounters were over before Luffy could properly contribute. When rescued civilians asked for names, Gustave always identified himself as the captain of the Bamboo Staff Bistro, while Luffy's self-proclaimed heroic titles went largely ignored.
"Damn it!" Luffy declared through gritted teeth. "I'll become incredibly strong someday! The name of Luffy the Greatest Hero will echo across all the seas!"
"Such admirable ambition, Luffy-kun," Koshiro said with genuine warmth. "When I was your age, I lacked such clear determination and confidence."
"Really?!" Luffy's entire demeanor transformed instantly, his previous frustration replaced by beaming pride. "Hahaha! See? Uncle Koshiro understands true greatness!"
Ace just stared at his brother in disbelief. Could Luffy really not tell that Koshiro was simply being polite? Sometimes his brother's obliviousness was truly staggering.
As the evening light began filtering through the dojo's windows, casting long shadows across the traditional interior, Gustave found himself appreciating this unexpected detour more and more. The Bamboo Staff Bistro's growing reputation was gratifying, but the warm hospitality and genuine friendships they were forming made the journey even more worthwhile.
"Koshiro-san," Gustave said thoughtfully, "we'd be honored to prepare a meal for your family and students, if you'd permit it. It seems only fitting that we should demonstrate the cuisine that's apparently made us so famous in these parts."
The dojo master's eyes lit up with interest. "That would be most generous, Gustave-san. I confess, after hearing so many travelers praise your cooking, I'm quite curious to experience it myself."