Vice-captain of Whitebeard pirates

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Others were also full of praise for Thatch craftsmanship. Only Plank maintained a slightly critical attitude, as if he particularly looked down on what Thatch had made.

This made Thatch very nervous when he noticed it, thinking that Plank must be exceptionally skilled as a cook.

"How is it?" Thatch asked tentatively.

"It's good to eat," someone responded.

"Yeah, I've never had such a delicious dessert," another crew member chimed in.

"It's really great!" someone else added.

Everyone praised him, while Plank simply nodded casually and said, "That's it."

Pops, Larson, and Marco exchanged looks of disbelief: "..."

Are you really satisfied with your skills?

However, everyone was still immersed in the joy of having a new cook, and nobody chose to speak up.

Thatch genuinely thought something might be wrong with what he had made. He scratched his head with an embarrassed look on his face. "Maybe I didn't control the heat well enough. I'll improve next time."

"No need to improve," Marco said, holding Thatch hand and becoming emotional. "What you did is good enough!"

"But..." Thatch glanced at Plank, seeking reassurance.

"Don't mind him," Larson said as he leaned closer. "He has picky eater, and everything he eats is wrong to him. You don't have to worry about that."

Picky eater?

Thatch eyes lit up, and he suddenly felt that this was the biggest challenge he had ever faced as a cook. If he couldn't satisfy someone with such high standards, then what kind of chef would he be? He became determined to conquer Plank and earn his true recognition.

Larson didn't know it yet, but what he said next ignited Thatch motivation further.

At this time, Thatch was lost in the delicious food, unable to extricate himself from the experience. After eating Plank's dark cuisine for so long, enjoying Thatch cooking was a breath of fresh air. Delicious! Larson was so enthralled that he didn't even realize it.

"All right!" Pops exclaimed, waving his fist. "Now I'm full of energy; let's hurry and have a big fight!"

Soon, everyone arrived in the sea area where the Labelle Pirates were known to appear. The tavern owner pointed ahead and said, "This is it. The Labelle Pirates should be not far ahead."

Larson nodded. "Plank, drive the ship over."

Thatch looked hesitant. "Should we observe first, or wait until we see their situation clearly before making a move?"

Observe?

Pops and Larson laughed. There was no need to go through so much trouble to deal with the Labelle Pirates. They could just drive the ship over. It was simpler—just go straight in.

If everything went well, they could hold a banquet before dark to welcome Thatch to their crew in the Whitebeard Pirates.

....

At this moment, on a small island in the center of the sea, dozens of pirate ships were docked along the shore, all flying the same flag.

Countless pirates were drinking and enjoying themselves on the island. Some were showing off the treasures they had plundered the day before, while others bragged about the merchant ships they had robbed.

These were all scoundrels who committed murder and arson; they were the very definition of pirates in this sea—exactly why the island's residents lived in fear.

This was the Labelle Pirates. They didn't seem to have any discipline and appeared more like a coalition of dozens of pirate groups.

At the heart of this island was a cave.

Inside sat a young man with a scarred face and fur made from an unknown animal draped over him. He looked like a pirate in his twenties and was the captain of the Labelle Pirates—Labelle.

At his feet knelt a figure. If Larson and the others were there, they would certainly recognize him as John, the man who had been humiliated by Thatch.

At that moment, John was kneeling on the ground, lamenting what had happened to him. He was too embarrassed to admit that they had been beaten back by a child; that would have been too humiliating. As he recounted the tale, he described their assailant as a strong man six meters tall, wielding a naginata, accompanied by a handsome man and two children.

Does it sound familiar? Yes, John was essentially painting a picture of Pops and Larson based on their appearances.

Regardless of the details, all he wanted was revenge. After being wronged, he no longer cared about the appearance of the person who had defeated him. Anyone who disobeyed tradition would face his wrath.

"Hmph, trash," Labelle sneered. He was all too familiar with his subordinates' shortcomings. It would be fantastic if any aspect of John's tale were true.

Nevertheless, he had to help John get revenge to uphold his own dignity. If he ignored this matter, the fear people on the island had for Labelle would start to wane.

Labelle ordered, "Call up the second team and send them out with you."

John's eyes glimmered with hope. "Thank you, Captain."

Just as John left, another young man with yellow hair stepped in.

"Captain, I think we need to restrain them. Now we are a large pirate group with hundreds of people. If we allow these guys to run wild, I fear it won't be long before the Navy circles in to suppress us!"

"Rakuyo , why are you so cowardly!" Labelle snapped, his impatience bubbling to the surface as he regarded the newcomer. "The Navy will only be afraid when they see us. Even if they had a hundred times the courage, they wouldn't dare to encircle us. In the entire East China Sea, we are the only ones with such a powerful fleet! Only the Labelle Pirates can boast of this size!"

Rakuyo clenched his fists in frustration. He struggled to communicate with the shortsighted captain before him. Labelle's bragging was based on bullying naval officers who dared not resist them. Such incompetence was a disaster waiting to happen for their crew.

As everyone knew, the East China Sea is referred to as the weakest sea in the world.

However, the reason the East China Sea earned that title isn't solely due to Garp's occasional absence; he actively dismantled pirate crews in the region. Over time, the more formidable pirate groups either left or buried their heads and refused to show up.

At present, the Labelle Pirates were one of the few noteworthy large pirate groups left in the East Sea. The Navy was likely already paying attention to them, and it wouldn't be surprising if Garp was just biding his time for an opportunity to strike.

Despite the perception of the Labelle Pirates as powerful, their longstanding internal disorganization made them susceptible to real enemies. In fact, even without Garp's involvement, any major admiral coming from headquarters could wipe the floor with them. To put it bluntly, they were merely a group of ruffians.

Rakuyo sighed, casting one last disappointed glance at Labelle before shaking his head and leaving the room.

Rather than linger in a pirate crew with an uncertain future, he believed it was better to distance himself as soon as possible.

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