Jak Bovan, the bearded brute, strutted into the galley. Watching the chefs stir and fry, a twisted grin spread across his face.
From his sleeve, he slipped out a tiny vial and poured the fine powder over the dishes, mixing it until it was indistinguishable from the rest of the food. The aroma was mouthwatering, the presentation perfect. Satisfied, he pushed the food cart toward the deck.
A table had already been set, the sea breeze rolling over the open waters. Eating while gazing at the endless horizon—what better way to enjoy a feast?
"Boss, the food's ready! Do you want it now?" Jak Bovan rubbed his hands nervously, sweat trickling down his forehead.
Sol glanced at him. Seeing the sweat, he just assumed the kitchen had been too hot. With no suspicion, he sat down casually and dug in.
The first bite of meat sent his eyes wide. Juicy, rich, perfectly tender—the flavor exploded in his mouth, juices rushing up and hitting his brain like lightning.
"Damn, this is incredible!" he praised between bites, then gave up caring about anything else, devouring the feast like a starving wolf.
Jak Bovan watched from the side, his grin stretching almost to his ears.Eat, eat! In a moment you'll be on your knees. Even if the poison doesn't finish you, Mama's men will.
Sneering inside, he quietly slipped away, leaving Sol to enjoy the meal alone.
But as Sol swallowed mouthful after mouthful, a strange discomfort crept through his body. The sensation spread fast, draining his strength like quicksand. His mind instantly snapped to the obvious answer—poison.
"That bastard… he poisoned me?" he muttered under his breath, probing the feeling as it worsened. The deeper he focused, the more he felt himself sinking into it.
Damn it. I thought cutting off his arm would scare him straight… but I underestimated how rotten this world really is.
He sighed bitterly. "Guess I was too naive."
Still, he shoveled in a few more bites, licking the grease off his fingers. "Even if it's poisoned… tastes too damn good to waste."
By the time he patted his stomach in satisfaction, pirate ships bearing Big Mom's Jolly Roger were closing in. No doubt Jak Bovan had called them.
Bang! The cabin door slammed open. Jak Bovan stormed out, eyes gleaming with malice. He saw Sol slouched in the chair and thought he was finished.
"Well, well. How do you feel? No strength left in those limbs, huh?" He approached step by step, smug grin growing wider.
Sol frowned. "Can you not get so close?"
"What's wrong? Scared now?"
"No. You're just too damn ugly. From a distance your beard almost hides it, but up close? Those pockmarks, those craters… ugh. Ever think about planting something in your face to fill 'em in?"
The venom in Sol's words lit Jak Bovan's temper like oil on fire.
"You bastard! All you've got left is your mouth. You can't even lift your sword! Call me grandpa now, maybe I'll spare your sorry life!"
"And if I don't?" Sol asked, amused.
Jak Bovan smirked darkly. "You know whose ship that is? One of Mama's most ruthless officers. Everyone who falls into his hands dies screaming. I'll enjoy watching you despair!"
Sol tilted his head, genuinely disappointed. "So he's not one of Big Mom's kids? What a letdown." He sighed. "If that's the case, I won't waste time. Better to clean up the trash now."
"Hah! You? Like this? You can't even lift a finger—"
"Who said I couldn't lift a finger?" Sol cut him off. Slowly, deliberately, he raised his middle finger.
In the next instant, his entire body ignited.
Prometheus Form!
Flames roared skyward, gold and crimson intertwining as the toxic powder inside him burned away instantly. No poison in this world could withstand the inferno of a living sun.
Jak Bovan froze, his bravado crumbling. Knees buckling, body trembling, he choked out, "M-Monster!"
Ding! Host's transformation has shocked Jak Bovan. Evaluation: C. Reward: One ton of lethal poison powder.
Sol blinked, actually thrown for a loop. One ton? What the hell am I supposed to do with that? Good thing the system's got its own storage, or I'd be walking around like a damn chemical weapons depot.
As for Jak Bovan, Sol didn't even spare him another glance. He was a nobody, not worth his time.
Rising into the air, Sol's flames blazed brighter than the sun, streaks of gold flashing through his crimson fire—the mark of the Golden Emperor's Sunfire fusing with his origin flames.
"Captain! Captain! Look—it's Prometheus!" A sailor pointed up, eyes wide with terror.
"Shut your damn mouth! My eyes work fine," the scarred captain snapped. "And don't you dare call him Prometheus-sama. He betrayed Mama, remember?!"
But inwardly, the captain's heart pounded. That's the monster who fought Mama head-on. What the hell am I supposed to do against that?!
"C-Captain, should we—"
Before the sailor could finish, the scarred captain kicked him straight overboard.
"Spread the word! From now on, we recruit no greenhorn sailors. Not even locals. Understood?"
"Yes, Captain!"
Unlike the fool in the sea, the rest kept their composure.
"Patch, turn us around! Don't bother warning the other ships. Just run. Let them stall him for us!"
"Aye, Captain!"