Fleet Admiral's Office.
Recalling Tsuru's words, Sengoku thought for a long ti and decided to test the abilities of that newly arrived kid.
The Marine Headquarters had recently achieved several victories against small and mid-sized pirate groups. It wasn't nearly enough to warrant a full-scale celebration, but Sengoku felt it was a good enough excuse.
A small banquet for officers was held in one of the headquarters' halls.
The invitees were mostly vice admirals, a few particularly outstanding rear admirals, and several departnt heads.
And, of course, one special invitation was personally delivered by Vice Admiral Tsuru to Renzo's quarters.
Renzo looked at the finely printed, faintly scented invitation card with a frown so deep it could crush a fly.
"A banquet?" he said, his tone full of disbelief and rejection.
"A lot of people? Noisy? And… socializing?"
Each word struck directly at his weaknesses.
"Yes," Tsuru said calmly. "The Fleet Admiral specifically asked for your presence. Think of it as a welco dinner."
"…Can I not go?" Renzo tried to resist. "I feel… a little dizzy… probably slept too much yesterday…"
"The canteen's special dessert section will be offering unlimited servings of a rare South Sea honey lon pudding tonight," Tsuru ntioned casually. "It's said to be soft, silky, and perfectly sweet, but only for invited guests."
Renzo: "…"
He fell silent for a full minute as his mind waged a fierce internal battle.
On one side: loud, painful social interactions.
On the other hand, the boundless temptation of rare pudding.
In the end, his desire for food and a faint fear of the Fleet Admiral, the canteen's biggest sponsor, barely triumphed over his laziness.
"…What ti does it start?" he asked, sounding like a man walking to his own execution.
That evening, Renzo sluggishly appeared at the banquet hall's entrance.
He was still in his wrinkled casual clothes, too lazy to find his uniform, hair ssy, eyes unfocused, completely out of place among the crisp, uniford officers chatting and laughing all around him.
The mont he entered, a wave of "trouble", the mixed sll of food, alcohol, and human warmth, hit him square in the face, making him instinctively want to turn around and leave.
But then, he spotted the tower of glistening, jelly-like honey lon puddings at the far end of the room, and froze mid-turn.
"Find a corner… eat the pudding… then leave…"
He set his "maximum action plan" in his mind and began moving along the wall at a snail's pace toward the dessert table.
At the main table, Sengoku, Garp, Tsuru, Kizaru, and a few senior vice admirals gathered together.
Sengoku's gaze looked casual, but it never left Renzo.
"That's him?" Garp said, picking his nose without sha.
"Doesn't look too lively! Even lazier than Kuzan!"
Kuzan hadn't beco an admiral yet, though his lazy justice was already famous.
Tsuru took a sip of wine. "Just watch, Garp."
Sengoku gave a subtle signal to a certain rear admiral known for his energetic and overly chatty nature.
The man imdiately understood, straightened his tie, picked up two glasses of wine, and flashed a smile so bright it made Renzo's skin crawl. Then he strode toward the pudding-hunting captain.
"Hey! You must be Captain Renzo!" the rear admiral said in a booming voice, nearly slapping Renzo on the back, but his hand sohow slipped in midair.
"I'm Rear Admiral Strawberry! Welco to HQ! Co on, have a drink!"
Renzo's hand trembled, nearly dropping his pudding.
He turned his head slowly, lifelessly, to face the overly cheerful man.
"…Thanks… I don't drink," he replied flatly, hoping the man would just leave.
"Oh co on, it's a party! No need to drink, let's chat! I heard you're from the West Blue?"
'How's the scenery there?"
"Oh, right, I heard you took down the Black Shark Pirates!"
"That's amazing! How'd you do it?"
"Got any special techniques?"
Renzo felt the air itself grow thick and noisy around this man.
His thoughts of 'what a hassle,' 'so loud,' and 'go away' unconsciously began to spread outward.
Then, sothing strange happened.
Rear Admiral Strawberry, once so energetic, began to slow down mid-sentence.
"…that… pirate… why did they… fall asleep again… I an… peace is… so much better… than fighting… ahhh-"
He yawned so wide his jaw cracked, eyes going hazy. "Anyway… I'm kinda tired… you… enjoy your pudding…"
Still holding his wine, he wandered to a nearby chair, sat down, nodded off, and nearly fell asleep on the spot.
The area around Renzo fell silent.
Satisfied, Renzo turned back to his pudding, entirely focused.
From across the room, Sengoku raised an eyebrow.
Garp nearly flicked his booger across the room. "Oi?! What's with Strawberry?! That guy's never shut up in his life!"
Tsuru smiled faintly. "It seems even normal social contact triggers the effect."
At that mont, another officer, this one a Commodore known for his energy and clinginess, entered the fray.
He'd learned from Strawberry's mistake and decided to go for a "physical" approach instead of talking.
Pretending to be drunk, he staggered toward Renzo, planning to throw an arm over his shoulder or "accidentally" spill wine on him to make a scene.
"Yo! New guy! Co hang out!" he slurred, stumbling closer.
But just as his hand was about to touch Renzo's shoulder, his foot suddenly slipped, sending him sprawling forward and splashing wine all over… the trousers of a nearby vice admiral with a very cold face.
That vice admiral's expression instantly darkened. His eyes locked onto the unfortunate Commondore.
The commodore instantly sobered, sweating bullets.
anwhile, Renzo simply took one small step to the side, avoiding the splash without even looking up, still absorbed in eating his second pudding.
As if none of it had anything to do with him.
"Puhahahaha!" Garp burst into laughter. "Serves him right! Wrong target, idiot!"
Kizaru, swirling his wine glass, drifted closer and spoke in his usual lazy drawl.
"So scary, huh~~~ even getting close brings bad luck~~ looks like Rear Admiral Strawberry's already fast asleep~~"
The atmosphere of the banquet began to shift.
Within a ten-ter radius around Renzo, the mood visibly dimd.
Officers grew tired and disinterested in talking. Those who tried to approach him suffered small mishaps. So even dozed off like Strawberry.
Renzo finished his third pudding, fully content.
His "social battery" was completely drained. Staying even one more second felt torturous.
He put down his plate, ignored the strange mood and the bigshots watching from afar, and drifted along the wall toward the exit like a ghost.
'Mission complete, pudding eaten. Ti to sleep.'
Once he left, the heavy drowsiness and low pressure in the room slowly lifted, but the mood was ruined beyond repair.
The banquet ended early and awkwardly.
Sengoku rubbed his temples, staring at the spiritually wrecked banquet hall and several still-dozing officers.
"It seems the test result is clear," Tsuru concluded.
"His passive field works even outside of combat. It drains energy and motivation from those nearby. His active 'trouble' thoughts trigger localized coincidences that help him avoid direct interference, especially effective against harassnt."
"Basically," Sengoku muttered, "a walking, self-propelled banquet destroyer…"
Kizaru chuckled lazily. "So as long as we leave him alone, he'll make everyone else too lazy to move? That's~~~ a pretty convenient ability~~"
Garp dug at the other nostril. "Eh, who cares? The pudding was great! Bwahaha!"
Sengoku sighed heavily. Next ti he hosted a large celebration, he honestly didn't know whether to invite Renzo or not.
Invite him, and the party dies.
Don't invite him, and he might "feel bothered" and show up anyway.
anwhile, the culprit himself, Captain Renzo, was already back in his cozy quarters, lying in bed and recalling the delicious lon pudding.
"Bit troubleso tonight," he murmured sleepily, "but… not bad overall…"
As for the banquet?
What banquet?
Is that more important than pudding?
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