"Juice is served!" Ace announced with a proud grin, carefully balancing a tray laden with tall glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice.
Being a few years older than Shin-chan and his little friends, Ace naturally slipped into the role of the responsible big brother. Luffy, ever enthusiastic, trailed right behind him, eager to help welcome their tiny guests.
"Wow! Thank you, big brothers!" the children chorused, their eyes wide with delight as they accepted the drinks.
Just as Shin-chan raised his glass, a thought struck him. "Oh, wait! Himawari!" He put his cup down with a clatter, preparing to hop off his stool and find his baby sister.
He didn't have to look far. A few feet away, Himawari was nestled contentedly in Chu Zihang's arms, her entire world focused on the bottle of warm milk she was sucking on with fierce determination.
Earlier, as Chu Zihang had held the baby, he'd felt a hard object press against his chest. It was her empty bottle. Recalling Kazama's comment about the kids having missed breakfast, he put two and two together. If the older kids were hungry, the baby must be famished. Chu Zihang—getting his first, unexpected taste of fatherhood—found the fresh milk in the fridge. He then warmed the milk, tested a drop on his wrist, before giving it to the gurgling infant.
Watching his sister, happily fed and safe in the arms of a handsome stranger, Shin-chan breathed a sigh of relief. He might be a whirlwind of chaos, but when it came to Himawari, he was every bit the dependable older brother. Whenever Misae and Hiroshi weren't around, Shin-chan was the one who stepped up, a small but surprisingly capable guardian for his sister.
With that worry settled, he returned to his juice, just as Ace and Luffy launched into a grand retelling of their adventures on the high seas. The little audience was captivated, gasping and cheering at all the right moments. The looks of pure admiration in their eyes made Luffy and Ace puff out their chests, feeling like the greatest storytellers in the world.
In the middle of a particularly dramatic tale about fighting a Sea King, the very air in the dining room seemed to shimmer. A brilliant column of golden light descended onto the deck outside, coalescing into the lanky figure of Admiral Kizaru, his perpetually laid-back expression firmly in place.
"Ooooh, long time no see, Ace-kun, little Luffy," Kizaru drawled, his voice slow and lazy as he stepped inside.
Before Ace or Luffy could even muster a greeting, the children on the other side of the room exploded.
"BOSS!" Shin-chan shrieked, his face lighting up with pure, unadulterated joy. Without a second thought, he scrambled off his chair and, using Kizaru's pristine white trousers as a climbing rope, began scaling the admiral like an excited little monkey.
"PRINCIPAL!" Kazama, Nene, Masao, and Bo-chan yelled in unison. They abandoned their juice and swarmed him, wrapping their arms around his legs in a chaotic group hug.
"Boss? Principal?" The question hung in the air, a shared look of utter bewilderment passing between Luffy, Ace, and Kizaru himself. The admiral stared down at the children clinging to his legs, genuinely racking his brain. Had he met these little tykes before?
"Whoa, Boss, you got taller!" Shin-chan announced from his new perch on Kizaru's shoulder, patting the admiral's curly hair. "And shinier!"
"He's right!" Kazama agreed, squinting up critically. "The principal is much, much taller than I remember."
"Ooooh, and look at that cape!" Shin-chan continued, pointing a chubby finger at the formal Marine coat emblazoned with the characters for "Justice." "So cool!"
"He does look very handsome today," Kazama assessed, stepping back for a better view. "Much more imposing than usual!"
"Uh, guys," Ace finally managed, standing up. "Are you… absolutely sure this is your principal?"
"Yes, children, please take a good, long look," Kizaru said, his voice laced with amused curiosity. He gently plucked Shin-chan off his shoulder and set him back on the floor. "Am I really who you think I am?"
The kids all took a few steps back, tilting their heads and studying the towering Marine Admiral with the seriousness of seasoned detectives.
"Yep, definitely the boss!" a few declared confidently.
"It's the principal!" the others confirmed.
"Ehhh?!" Kizaru, Ace, and Luffy were floored. Was it possible?
"You know," Kazama said thoughtfully, pushing up his imaginary glasses, "if you look really, really closely, he doesn't seem as grumpy as usual. He's got more of a… prankster vibe today."
"Now that you mention it, that's true!" the other children, save for Shin-chan, nodded sagely.
"What are you talking about?" Shin-chan protested loudly. "He's totally the boss! Who else would wear that yellow suit with those sunglasses? It's his signature look!"
Nene nodded emphatically. "Shin-chan has a point. No one else has such… questionable fashion sense. It has to be him."
"And that curly hair is a dead giveaway," Kazama concluded, his doubts now fully erased. Clearly, this could be no one else.
"Children," Kizaru said, his voice surprisingly gentle, "what is your principal's name?"
"Takakura Bunta!" they all replied in a perfectly synchronized shout.
"But my name isn't Takakura Bunta," Kizaru explained patiently. "It's Borsalino."
"Boss, when did you change your name?" Shin-chan shot back immediately, his five-year-old logic unassailable. The other children nodded along, their conviction unshaken. This was their principal, and no new name could change that.
Kizaru sighed, a slow, lazy sound. What could he do? They were just kids. If they wanted to call him Boss, then Boss he would be.
The commotion finally drew Gustave out from the kitchen. He saw Kizaru standing there, covered in children, and groaned internally.
"Here comes another freeloader," he muttered to himself, a vein throbbing in his temple. He truly detested the Admiral's habit of appearing out of thin air whenever there was a meal to be had. But with guests present, he had no choice. He'd just have to make extra.
"He's definitely paying this time, though," Gustave vowed silently. "Every last Berry."
Today's lunch was a spread of comforting, home-style fare. There was rich, melt-in-your-mouth braised pork belly, glistening with a dark, caramelized sauce. Beside it sat a large bowl of authentic mapo tofu, its vibrant red oil hiding the tongue-numbing promise of Sichuan peppercorns.
But the real stars of the show were two dishes made from ingredients that couldn't be found in any normal market.
First were the bee pupae that had so fascinated Luffy. Gustave knew the only way to do them justice was deep-frying. He poured a clear, high-quality oil into his wok. Instead of lighting a flame, he held his hand over the wok, and a low hum filled the kitchen as faint blue sparks danced between his fingers. He channeled his Rumble-Rumble Fruit power, generating a perfectly controlled electrical field that heated the oil to precisely 177 degrees Celsius in an instant.
He tipped the cleaned pupae into the shimmering oil. They sizzled violently, turning a beautiful golden-brown in seconds. He scooped them out with a spider ladle, letting them drain before blasting the oil with another electrical arc, raising the temperature for a second, even quicker fry. This "Thunderclap Frying" technique made the pupae impossibly crispy on the outside while keeping the inside tender and creamy. For seasoning, he created a small static charge in his palm, causing the fine sea salt and pepper to leap from their shakers and coat each pupa with perfect, even coverage.
Next came the chicken mushrooms, which Ace and Luffy had so carefully washed. Gustave decided to prepare them in two ways to highlight their incredible flavor. For the first dish, he selected only the most flawless caps for a soup. The method was simple, but every step was critical. He started by rendering pure, high-quality lard in a pot, filling the kitchen with an aroma that made everyone's stomach rumble. Ordinary oil simply wouldn't do.
Once the lard had melted, he added pure water. As it came to a rolling boil, he gently placed the mushroom caps inside. With a low, sustained current from his fingertips, he created a gentle convection in the pot, circulating the water to draw out every molecule of earthy, savory flavor from the mushrooms without damaging their delicate structure. A pinch of salt, a grind of white pepper, and that was it. Simplicity perfected through supernatural means.
For the second dish, he took the remaining mushroom stems and sliced caps. His hands became a blur of motion, the knife flashing with contained lightning as he diced green peppers, leeks, and garlic with inhuman speed and precision. He tossed them into another electrically heated wok, the ingredients searing instantly upon contact, locking in their moisture and flavor.
When you had ingredients of this caliber, Gustave believed, you didn't need complicated techniques. The simplest home-style cooking, elevated by the absolute precision of a Logia power, would always yield the most unforgettable, soul-satisfying results.