Chapter 5: The Little Thief Cat and the Nouveau Riche

After the unruly steed of the knight was subdued by the combined efforts of the onlookers, tranquility returned to the restaurant’s exterior, just as it always had. The security guards once more stood in two straight lines before the entrance, projecting the distinguished air befitting an upscale establishment.

At that moment, another guest arrived—a young girl. Compared to the previous knight in heavy armor, this visitor’s attire betrayed a far more modest background: a simple striped short-sleeved blouse, a skirt washed pale with age, and a pair of sturdy flat shoes suitable only for working-class girls. Though blooming in youth, she seemed unwilling to spend even a little extra to adorn herself.

Clearly, this guest was no woman of means. Such establishments seldom welcomed those whose appearance so blatantly spelled out “poverty,” and the guards’ primary duty—besides enhancing the ambiance and assisting knights with their animals—was to politely, or if needed, physically, refuse entry to those who didn’t know their place.

But this time, they did nothing. For although the girl looked destitute, she possessed another kind of capital: her eyes, orange as gemstones, set in delicate features; her bright, softly curled orange hair resting against her fair, elegant collarbone; her alabaster skin tinged with the healthy flush of one accustomed to life at sea, glowing warmly beneath the midday sun.

Despite her youth, her figure was striking: the modest blouse stretched taut across her chest, and the skirt barely concealed her long, dazzlingly pale legs. Lacking jewelry and finery, she nevertheless radiated feminine allure in every gesture.

Beauty itself is a priceless asset. Naturally, the guards would not bar her, and the lovely hostess at the door felt a pang of inferiority as the girl passed, flashing a playful smile that sent a ripple through the hearts of several young men standing watch.

It was clear she knew how to wield her charm. In fact, it was one of her chief survival tools on these seas: feigning vulnerability to disarm targets, elicit sympathy, or even enrapture them, then use a handful of tricks to relieve them of their wealth.

This girl was none other than Nami, the Cat Burglar—famed in the East Sea, with a goal of earning a hundred million berries as she roamed the waters.

Meteorology, geography, oceanography, physics, navigation, mathematics, art, piloting—she mastered them all. In her thieving career, she’d honed her skills in stealth, combat, gambling, and acting. An academic prodigy, a marked member of society, and blessed with exceptional beauty—a paragon in every way.

Yet for the masses at society’s bottom, the dream of “earning a hundred million” was hardly modest; even the perfect woman struggled. After years of toil, Nami was still nearly twenty million short of her goal. Driven by necessity, she had forsaken comfort, laboring day after day for this vast sum.

Now, fresh from a lucrative haul from a notorious pirate crew, she plunged back into her money-making endeavors without pause. She had not come to this restaurant to eat, but to work.

Besides snatching spoils from pirates, Nami maintained another low-risk, high-reward enterprise: using a bit of cunning to gain wealthy patrons’ trust, then pilfering their treasures at the opportune moment. Her targets were those whose wealth outstripped their wisdom or virtue—especially lustful, foolish men.

Such marks, or easy prey, tended to congregate in upscale restaurants. So whenever she paused to rest on a bustling island, Nami would drop by the finest establishments and bars to hunt for her next victim. She had never failed. Even on her worst days, some self-styled gentleman would invariably pay for her extravagant meal.

Upon entering, Nami instantly slipped into her professional mode: her mischievous smile faded to a subtle melancholy, her bright eyes dimmed with sorrow, and the spirited sea girl transformed into a frail, helpless child. This was one of her basic survival skills—acting.

Wealthy men adored such innocent, vulnerable girls. In this guise, Nami rarely needed to initiate conversation; noblemen eager to rescue a pitiful maiden would swarm around her like flies.

Today was no different. But Nami ignored these eager fools, for her eyes—her EX-level treasure-hunting vision—had already locked onto a far more promising target: a showy figure seated in the VIP section, devouring a feast.

At first glance, Nami branded the burly, handsome youth as a flamboyant boor. Who but a peacock would dine in full noble knight’s armor, flaunting a massive sword adorned with precious gems? The label fit perfectly.

His manners, however, were anything but noble; he ate voraciously, as if a storm swept over the table. He seemed less a nobleman than a nouveau riche.

The only thing about him that drew Nami’s attention was his ornate armor, broad sword, and the dazzling sapphire embedded upon it.

Treasure appraisal was another of Nami’s specialties. When stealing, she needed to swiftly distinguish genuine treasures from fakes to maximize her profit and minimize risk. Her practiced eye instantly recognized the gemstone as a true marvel of nature, not a shoddy imitation.

The armor and sword, too, were clearly crafted with unique materials and masterful skill.

Rich—absurdly rich!

Nami quickly estimated the value of this “showy fool,” and in mere seconds reached a startling conclusion: if she sold him off, she could buy Cocoyasi Village and still have enough left to purchase several Arlong heads.

Her eyes gleamed, symbols of berries flashing and sparkling with golden light.

Dim-witted, loaded, a perfect mark—this was a sure bet!

So Nami adjusted her stance, adopting a fragile, delicate persona as she drew near the flamboyant knight.

Usually, just approaching was enough; such men would quickly invite her to join them.

But...

A minute passed...

Garen, the “nouveau riche,” gave no response, keeping his head down as he devoured his meal, never once looking up.

He was simply famished.

Since stepping into this otherworldly restaurant by chance, he had been eating non-stop. This body’s strength far exceeded Garen’s understanding of human physiology, and it demanded a staggering amount of food.

He felt as though he had consumed an entire ox.

Though most of the meat was unfamiliar—nothing like beef, but from creatures he’d never tasted before—it all came from unknown beings.

Having already seen three-meter-tall teddy bears and four-meter giants, he found no reason to be surprised by the strange fare on his plate.

This world was clearly anything but ordinary, yet hunger dulled Garen’s curiosity about his location. All he cared about was eating...

Even with a beautiful woman at his side performing the role of a lovesick maiden.

“This glutton...” Nami clenched her fists in frustration.

But for the sake of money, she chose to endure.

“Sir Knight?” Nami, hands pressed to her heart, edged closer to Garen with an air of pitiable vulnerability.

“Hm?” Garen looked up abruptly, sauce still clinging to the corner of his mouth. “Are you here to serve the next course?”

“Haha...” Behind Nami’s smile lurked a murderous urge.

She hardly knew how to reply.

Fortunately, the flamboyant knight took the initiative.

Realizing she wasn’t a waitress, Garen began to scrutinize the “helpless girl” before him.

An improbable figure, orange short hair, strangely familiar features...

He felt he had seen her somewhere before.

The longer he looked, the more mesmerized he became.

“Tch...” Nami scoffed inwardly. “Just as I thought—a drunken fool, utterly bewitched by yours truly!”

She forced a textbook-perfect smile and asked softly, “Sir Knight, is something the matter?”

Garen, at last aware of his impolite stare, quickly averted his gaze, embarrassed. “Sorry! You just look a lot like someone I remember.”

How trite! Nami mentally upgraded his label to “severe simpleton.”

“Is that so?” Her smile grew ever sweeter. “Then I’m truly honored!”

With that, Nami, the Cat Burglar, gracefully took a seat beside the flamboyant Garen.