“Morning, Makino.
How about something smooth today?”
The young man settled onto a stool at the bar, his white traveler’s coat swaying lightly as he sat.
Sunlight streamed through the tavern windows, catching the edge of the fabric before spilling across the polished wooden counter.
Makino looked up from her work and smiled.
“Good morning, Ian.”
“Morning.”
Setting aside the glass she had been cleaning, she moved toward the shelves behind the counter.
Most of Windmill Village’s patrons preferred their liquor strong enough to make their throats burn.
The fishermen, sailors, and laborers who frequented Makino’s Tavern rarely had any interest in mixed drinks.
Only Ian was different.
Over the past six months, Makino had developed a very particular impression of him.
A traveler with eyes that seemed to hold countless stories.
A man who couldn’t handle strong liquor nearly as well as he claimed.
And quite possibly the worst fortune-teller in all of East Blue.
Ice clinked softly against glass.
A measure of aged rum.
A splash of fruit liqueur.
A careful stir.
When she placed the finished drink before him, the amber liquid glowed warmly beneath the morning sun.
“There you go.”
Ian lifted the glass and took a sip.
Almost immediately, his eyes brightened.
“This is even better than last time, Makino.”
A faint blush colored her cheeks.
Ian had a habit of complimenting people so naturally that it never felt forced.
Kind.
Thoughtful.
Beautiful.
Interesting.
No matter who he was speaking to, he always seemed able to find something genuine to praise.
It was one of the reasons everyone in the village had grown fond of him.
The tavern settled into a peaceful rhythm.
Outside, seagulls wheeled overhead while fishermen prepared their boats along the harbor.
The distant crash of waves drifted in through the open windows, mingling with the scent of salt carried on the breeze.
Ian took another sip and quietly watched the sunlight dance across the floorboards.
Then the tavern door slammed open.
“Oi, Makino!”
The voice arrived before the man did.
A massive figure strode inside with enough presence to fill the entire room.
Broad-shouldered and imposing despite his age, Monkey D.
Garp crossed the tavern with the energy of a man half his years and dropped heavily onto the stool beside Ian.
The wooden seat creaked in protest.
Ian chuckled.
“You’re late today, Vice Admiral.”
Garp waved dismissively.
“Had to deal with a few troublesome brats.”
The smug expression on his face told Ian everything he needed to know.
He could already imagine the scene.
Luffy had probably stolen someone’s food.
An argument had broken out.
Then Garp had appeared out of nowhere, struck a dramatic pose, and somehow made the entire situation even more chaotic.
As far as the Monkey family was concerned, that counted as a normal morning.
Ian raised his glass.
“Sounds exhausting.”
“Nah.”
Garp grabbed a mug and took a large swallow.
“Keeps me young.”
To anyone unfamiliar with him, Garp looked like nothing more than a cheerful old village regular.
Ian knew better.
Half a year in Windmill Village had taught him exactly who the old man really was.
The Hero of the Marines.
A living legend.
One of the strongest men in the world.
And somehow still capable of behaving like an oversized child whenever the mood struck him.
Garp leaned back against the counter.
“I heard you’re leaving.”
Ian nodded.
“This afternoon.”
The words carried surprisingly little hesitation.
The decision had been made long ago.
Six months earlier, he had arrived in this world with nothing but confusion and a strange gift.
The Legendary Navigator System.
Its purpose was simple.
Travel.
Explore.
Experience the world.
Every destination offered a unique Check-In Objective.
The system rewarded genuine involvement, not fleeting visits.
Simply arriving somewhere wasn’t enough.
To complete a location, he had to become part of it.
When Ian first arrived in Windmill Village, his Completion Progress had barely reached twenty percent.
Meeting the villagers had increased it.
Becoming a regular at Makino’s Tavern had increased it further.
Getting dragged into Garp’s drinking sessions had helped more than he expected.
But the greatest gains had come from living here.
Walking the village streets.
Listening to fishermen tell exaggerated stories about the sea.
Watching sunsets paint the harbor gold.
Sharing meals, conversations, and everyday moments with the people who called this place home.
The system wanted experiences.
Real experiences.
And now, after six months, his Windmill Village Check-In was nearly complete.
Which meant it was time to leave.
The sea was waiting.
“Windmill Village isn’t a bad place to settle down,” Garp said between bites of meat.
“The world out there isn’t nearly this peaceful.”
Ian smiled.
“You know me better than that.”
“Do I?”
“I’m a traveler.”
The answer came without hesitation.
“Staying in one place forever was never part of the plan.”
Garp grunted.
“The sea’s dangerous.”
He raised his mug.
“Pirates.”
A gulp.
“Storms.”
Another gulp.
“Sea Kings.”
Yet another.
“And islands that’ll try to kill you before you’ve even finished breakfast.”
Makino passed by carrying a fresh bottle.
Without missing a beat, Garp immediately raised his hand for a refill.
Some things never changed.
Once she moved on, Garp turned back toward Ian.
“Aren’t you worried?”
Ian gazed into his drink.
The sunlight shining through the amber liquid cast shifting patterns across the counter.
Outside, a merchant wagon rolled past.
Children laughed somewhere in the distance.
The village had become familiar.
Comfortable.
A place he could genuinely call home.
For many people, that would have been enough.
But every time he stood at the harbor and looked beyond the horizon, he felt something stir deep inside him.
The endless sea.
Countless islands.
Unknown stories waiting to be discovered.
An entire world stretching far beyond what he could see.
A traveler couldn’t ignore a call like that.
“What would be the point of traveling if it wasn’t dangerous?”
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Sailing is exciting because you never know what’s waiting beyond the horizon.”
Garp snorted.
“You’ve got a strange way of looking at things.”
“Maybe.”
Ian slowly swirled the drink in his hand.
“Besides, danger can be exciting too.”
For a second, Garp stared at him.
Then he burst into laughter.
“Now that’s exactly the kind of reckless nonsense I’d expect from you.”
He drained the rest of his mug in one tremendous gulp before slamming it onto the counter.
The tavern briefly fell quiet.
Bottles clinked.
A cool breeze drifted through the open window.
Seabirds cried somewhere beyond the harbor.
Simple sounds.
Comforting sounds.
The sort of things people often failed to appreciate until they were gone.
At last, Garp pushed himself to his feet.
“Well then, traveler.”
He stretched his broad shoulders and adjusted his Marine coat.
“If you’re really leaving today, let’s have one more drink before you go.”
Ian raised his glass with a smile.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
Beyond the tavern.
Beyond the harbor.
Beyond the rolling blue waves.
The sea waited patiently.
And before the sun set, Ian would finally answer its call.