Because Gojo's ship wasn't particularly flashy or recognizable as a notorious pirate vessel, he wasn't targeted immediately. The townspeople didn't rush toward him, nor did they react with open hostility. Instead, their reactions were mixed—indifference on the surface, curiosity beneath it.
After all, no ordinary person could travel the Grand Line alone.
And reaching Whiskey Peak solo was even more unusual.
So the question lingered unspoken in the air:
Just who was this young man—calm, composed, and strikingly handsome—who had arrived here all by himself?
Gojo's handsomeness didn't go unnoticed.
In fact, it had quite the opposite effect.
Cheers erupted from different corners of the town as several girls gathered around him, whispering excitedly among themselves. From their reactions alone, Gojo immediately understood one thing—there was no way he would be able to stay anonymous here and quietly wait for his Log Pose to reset before leaving.
His suspicion was confirmed the moment he noticed a few girls holding up a bounty poster, pointing at it and then back at him with sparkling eyes.
"Hey, it is him, right?" one of them said excitedly.
"Gojo Satoru!" another added. "He's even more handsome in real life than in the poster!"
The group began closing in on him, their excitement only growing with every step.
Gojo internally sighed.
Trouble.
Before the situation could escalate any further, he was already thinking of ways to escape—maybe slipping into a quiet bar, finding an inn, laying low somewhere until the Log Pose adjusted. Just a few days of peace was all he needed.
However, just as he was about to make his move, a sudden presence made itself known.
A man stepped forward from the crowd.
He had distinctly curly hair—so curly that it immediately caught attention—and his appearance alone caused the atmosphere to shift. The excited girls instinctively restrained themselves, while several men in the crowd turned their full attention toward Gojo with renewed curiosity.
Gojo immediately understood.
This guy's important.
Mayor? Town head? Something along those lines.
And his guess proved accurate.
The man cleared his throat and began, "Welcome ad—"
He paused, coughed lightly, then continued with a practiced smile.
"Ma, ma, ma. Welcome, adventurer. I am Mayor Igarappoi."
He spread his arms theatrically. "On behalf of the town, I welcome you to Whiskey Peak. We, the people here, would be delighted to host you. Why don't you give us the honour of celebrating your arrival?"
His smile widened.
"Let us throw a party in your name."
The invitation was warm.
Too warm.
Gojo looked at the mayor with clear doubt in his expression.
"Do you throw a party for every second person who arrives at Whiskey Peak?" he asked calmly. "You must have quite a lot of money to throw around if that's the case."
Mayor Igarappoi's expression didn't change in the slightest. He opened his mouth to respond, then paused, cleared his throat, and once again began with his habitual mannerism.
"Ma… Ma Ma Ma," he chuckled lightly. "Generally, here in the—" He stopped himself again, coughed once more, and continued smoothly. "We are blessed with good harvests. When adventurers pass through our town, we throw a party to show respect for their journey and to build good relations with them."
Gojo listened quietly, then nodded.
"Very well," he said. "If you're willing to show hospitality and offer food for free, then I definitely won't refuse."
With that, under Mayor Igarappoi's guidance, Gojo was led deeper into town and soon brought to a large pub-like establishment. The place was already lively, filled with people on both floors, their chatter and laughter echoing through the wooden interior.
Not long after Gojo took a seat, plates of food began arriving one after another, followed by jugs of wine. Gojo examined the food casually with his Six Eyes, but found nothing suspicious—no poison, no hidden tricks. Satisfied, he began eating without hesitation.
Soon after, the so-called "grape juice," clearly alcoholic in nature, was also served.
Gojo leaned back slightly, enjoying himself as he ate and drank to his heart's content. His posture was relaxed, his guard visibly lowered—but only because he didn't need one. He paid no real attention to the people surrounding him. Even if someone here decided to make a move, it wouldn't matter.
After all, to him, everyone in this room was no more threatening than ants.
After eating to his heart's content, Gojo finally spoke again.
"I'd like a room to sleep in," he said casually. "And I almost forgot to ask—how long will it take for the Log Pose to reset?"
Mayor Igarappoi replied smoothly, "It should reset by tomorrow morning."
"That's good, then," Gojo said with a nod. "I'll be able to rest here in town and leave tomorrow. Thank you very much for your hospitality."
The mayor immediately slipped back into his familiar manner of speaking. "Ma Ma Ma. We, the people of Whiskey Peak, pride ourselves on our hospitality. We're glad you enjoyed the food so much."
Soon after, Gojo was escorted to a room prepared for him. As he stepped inside and the door closed behind him, he glanced toward the window. Outside, the sun was slowly setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and red as evening fully took hold.
Gojo stretched lightly. He was genuinely tired after traveling for so long—crossing Reverse Mountain, enduring the chaotic weather of the Grand Line, and on top of that, drinking alcohol. Sleep was already tugging at him.
He was well aware that something felt off about these overly generous townspeople. Their smiles were too practiced, their hospitality a little too eager. But he didn't dwell on it.
I'll deal with it when it comes, he thought calmly.
For now, what he needed most was rest.
With that in mind, Gojo lay down, allowing his fatigue to take over as he drifted into sleep, ready to face whatever awaited him the next day.
----
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