The booze was cheap rum, the meat was a little burnt, and the bread was rock-hard.
But Kirishima Bupai was not picky. He ate at a leisurely pace.
Luffy had begun his whirlwind eating, mumbling through a mouthful of food. Zoro hugged a barrel of booze and gulped it down.
After a few drinks, the atmosphere grew a little livelier.
Zoro set down the barrel and looked at the man opposite him, who had seemed far too calm and... idle from start to finish, with drunkenness and a trace of resentment in his eyes.
"Hey," Zoro's voice broke the relatively relaxed atmosphere around the campfire, carrying the smell of booze and a swordsman's characteristic bluntness. "A guy like you... you're strong as a monster, so why do you seem so idle?"
Then he pointed at Yamato, which Kirishima Bupai had casually placed beside him. "With power like that, why don't you go to the Grand Line? To the New World? Do you really... have no ambition at all?"
That question had been bottled up inside him for a long time.
Someone who could instantly defeat seven Hawkeyes and become the world's Greatest Swordsman was sunbathing on a little island in the East Blue, collecting money, and being chased around by reporters?
That was nothing like his image of a powerful man pursuing the pinnacle of strength.
Luffy stopped chewing too and looked over curiously, while Nami and the others pricked up their ears.
Seeing how curious they were, Kirishima Bupai paused slightly with his cup in hand and raised his eyes to Zoro.
The campfire danced in his deep eyes, reflecting a trace of... a strange smile.
"Ambition?" he repeated softly, as though chewing on an unfamiliar fruit.
Then he chuckled quietly. It was not loud, but it carried a