After the unruly steed of the knight was finally subdued with the combined efforts of everyone, the restaurant returned to its usual calm.
Security guards once again stood in two straight lines at the entrance, reinforcing the aura of prestige that such a high-end establishment was meant to convey.
And just then, another guest arrived—a young girl.
Compared to the heavily armored knight from earlier, this girl looked far more impoverished: a simple striped short-sleeve shirt, a skirt that had been washed so many times it was nearly white, and a pair of thick-soled flat shoes—exactly the type worn by working-class girls doing manual labor.
Despite being a youthful girl in the prime of her life, she didn't seem willing to spend even a little money on her appearance.
Clearly, this guest was no rich lady.
For a restaurant of this caliber, they typically wouldn't entertain guests who had "poor" written all over them. That's actually a big part of the security guards' job—aside from managing horses and playing valet to knights, their main task was to politely refuse entry to those who didn't belong.
And by "politely," they usually meant "physically."
But this time, they didn't move a muscle.
Because even though the girl looked poor, she carried a different kind of wealth: her bright, gemstone-like orange eyes were set in delicately beautiful features; her soft orange short hair fell gently across her fair, collarbone-level skin, with a healthy pink glow that came from a life spent on the sea, now glowing even warmer under the noonday sun.
Though young, her figure was already quite stunning—her modest top barely contained her well-developed chest, and her skirt struggled to hide her long, fair legs that were nearly dazzling to the eye.
No jewelry. No fancy clothes. And yet she embodied the very essence of feminine allure.
Such beauty, in and of itself, was a priceless asset.
Naturally, the security guards weren't going to stop someone like her. Even the beautiful hostess instinctively felt a little self-conscious in her presence.
As the orange-haired girl walked past the entrance, she gave the guards a playful smile that immediately made several young men blush and lose their composure.
Clearly, she knew how to wield her charm.
In fact, this was one of her most powerful assets out here on the sea.
Using her beauty to play the role of a weak, innocent girl—lowering her targets' guard, winning their sympathy, or even seducing them outright—was just part of her game. Then, with a few little tricks, she'd walk away with their money or treasure.
This girl was none other than Nami, the beautiful thief well known across the East Blue, sailing the seas with the goal of saving up 100 million Berries.
Meteorology, geography, oceanography, physics, navigation, mathematics, art, piloting—there was nothing she wasn't good at.
She'd also developed outstanding skills in hand-to-hand combat, theft, gambling, and acting over her years as a thief.
An prodigy with real street cred, a dragon tattoo to prove it, and a natural-born beauty to top it all off.
She was basically the perfect package.
But for the common folks at the bottom of society, "earning 100 million" wasn't exactly a small goal—even for someone perfect.
Nami had worked hard for years, but she was still nearly 20 million short of her target.
Driven by this desperate desire, she had no choice but to give up a peaceful life and grind day in and day out to chase that massive sum of money.
And right now… Nami had just pulled off a decent haul from a well-known pirate crew. But before the loot had even cooled off in her pockets, she was already back on the job.
That's right—she wasn't here at the restaurant to eat.
She was here to work.
Outside of snatching treasure from dangerous pirates, Nami also ran a low-risk, high-reward side hustle: using a few tricks to earn the trust of rich folk, then stealing their gold and valuables at just the right moment.
Her targets were always those rich idiots with more money than sense—especially the lustful ones.
And those kinds of fools were usually clustered in places just like this fancy restaurant.
So, whenever Nami stopped to rest in a bustling port town, she always made sure to visit high-end restaurants and bars to scout for prey.
And to this day, she had never missed her mark.
Even with bad luck, she'd usually get at least a noble gentleman or two offering to pay for her "poor, beautiful lady's" extravagant meal.
So, the moment she stepped through the front door of the restaurant, Miss Nami switched into work mode. The playful smile on her face instantly melted into a subtle sadness, and her bright eyes turned misty and forlorn. In a heartbeat, the confident, swashbuckling sailor girl became a fragile, helpless young lady.
Acting was one of Nami's core survival skills.
Rich men just loved that "innocent and helpless" look.
With this persona, Nami didn't even need to approach them—some gentleman with more money than brains would inevitably buzz over like a fly to honey.
Today was no exception.
But rather than pick from the usual gaggle of dumb, eager rich boys, Nami's EX-rank treasure-hunting eyes had already locked onto a far more valuable target: a flamboyant fool sitting in the VIP section, shoveling food into his mouth like there was no tomorrow.
At first glance, Nami gave the tall, muscular, and handsome young man one very specific label in her mind: poser.
Who else but a poser would wear a full noble knight's armor, complete with a glittering greatsword, while dining in a restaurant?
And his table manners? Absolutely disgusting. "Ravenous beast" didn't even begin to cover it.
He didn't look like a noble—more like a nouveau riche.
The only thing about him that interested our dear Miss Nami was that luxurious armor, the broad sword, and most of all, the dazzling blue sapphire embedded in his gauntlet.
Appraising treasure was another of Nami's signature skills.
To steal efficiently, you had to instantly tell which items were real and valuable, and which were worthless fakes—maximize profit, minimize effort.
Her treasure-honed eyes could immediately tell that massive gem was no imitation. It was a rare and genuine jewel, crafted by nature and polished by time.
As for the armor and sword? Definitely custom-made by a master craftsman using rare materials and techniques.
He was loaded. Absolutely loaded.
Nami quickly estimated his worth in her mind, and within seconds came to a shocking conclusion:
If she could somehow sell this idiot off, she'd have enough to buy Cocoyasi Village and put a bounty on Arlong's head just for fun.
The Berry signs practically popped out of her eyes, gleaming with gold.
Dumb, rich, flashy… this one's in the bag!
With that, Nami adjusted her expression and sauntered over to the flamboyant knight, playing the role of a frail little maiden.
Usually, just getting close would be enough. These "chivalrous" rich fools would always invite her to sit down.
But this time, a whole minute passed… and the nouveau riche named Garen didn't react at all. He just kept eating, not even lifting his head once.
He was starving.
From the moment he stepped into this bizarre restaurant, Garen had done nothing but eat.
His body was far stronger than he expected a human body to be—and it had a monstrous appetite to match.
He felt like he had eaten an entire cow already.
Although the meat didn't taste like beef. It was from animals he'd never seen before, maybe even ones he didn't want to know about.
But hey—he'd already seen three-meter-tall poodles and four-meter-tall "giants." No need to be surprised by weird meat.
Clearly, this world was anything but normal. But right now, Garen had no energy to worry about where he was or why.
He had only one task: keep eating.
Even as a stunning beauty performed a perfect "damsel in distress" routine beside him, he couldn't be bothered to look up.
"This glutton…" Nami clenched her fists in frustration.
But for the sake of that sweet, sweet money—she chose to endure.
"Excuse me, kind sir knight?" Nami asked softly, placing her hands over her heart, looking as pitiful as she could.
"Huh?" Garen finally looked up, sauce still clinging to the corner of his mouth. "Are you here to bring more food?"
"…Haha." Nami forced a laugh, hiding her sudden desire to stab someone.
She had no idea how to respond to that.
Fortunately, the nouveau riche knight finally realized she wasn't a waitress.
He began to examine this poor, helpless "young lady" in front of him.
That body was anything but helpless. Orange hair… delicate features… something about her looked familiar.
The longer he looked, the more curious he became.
"Tch." Nami scoffed inwardly. Hah, I knew it. Typical meathead. Completely hypnotized by my charm.
She forced a perfect, textbook smile and asked sweetly, "What is it, Sir Knight?"
Realizing how rude he had been, Garen quickly looked away, embarrassed.
"Sorry! It's just… you remind me of someone I used to know."
Ugh, how cliché! Nami mentally labeled him a complete idiot.
"Is that so?" Her smile only grew sweeter. "What an honor!"
And with that, the cat burglar Nami gently sat down beside the nouveau riche Garen, slipping into position to begin her work.
(End of Chapter)