Shanks

The bar smelled of wood and alcohol. The tables were clean, too clean. No one had been there for days.
With your cheek pressed against the bar, you murmured, looking at your empty glass.
—If I slit its throat… technically it wouldn't be murder. It would be pest control.
On the other side of the bar, the waiter was drying a glass without flinching.
—Uh-huh.
—I could do it while he's asleep. A clean cut.
-Clear.
—Or in public. To send a message.
The waiter put down his glass and looked at you.
—If you do it in public, you'll be branded a criminal.
You sighed.
—Then I'll do it in private.
He smiled.
—What a shame. I was already preparing a sign that said, “The most elegant criminal on the Grand Line works here.”
Before you could answer, the bar door opened.
A group of men entered. The one in front wore a dark hooded cloak. He approached a table.
—Could we request a table for five?
The waiter looked at the empty room and then at him.
—Technically… they are all available.
The man looked at the bar with curiosity.
—Is he always this calm?
"No," replied the waiter. "Today we're being ruined by a military man obsessed with the owner."
You barely raised your head.
"If you're here to drink, sit down," you muttered. "If you're here to talk about that idiot, finish it quickly."
The man let out a small laugh.
—Relax. I just came to drink.
She removed her hood, revealing her red hair.
—And it seems this place needed customers.
The waiter blinked and then looked at you. One of the men behind him laughed.
—Captain, I think we've found the right place.
The waiter stood motionless for a few seconds, then he looked at you, then he looked at him.
—… You realize that a damn Yonko just walked into your damn bar, right?

The sun was beginning to set when Shanks sat down opposite Silvers Rayleigh, a bottle of sake between them.
—It's been a while since you've been here—Rayleigh remarked calmly.
"It's always good to see old friends," Shanks replied with a relaxed smile.
Rayleigh took a sip before speaking again.
—I wanted to ask you a favor.
Shanks raised an eyebrow.
—That sounds suspicious.
Former Oro vice-captain Jackson placed the glass on the table.
—The captain's niece is having problems.
Shanks was silent for a second.
Did Roger have a niece?
"She didn't mention it much," Rayleigh said. "She tried to live a quiet life. She opened a bar on an island in the Grand Line."
—And what happened?
Rayleigh sighed softly.
—A local government military officer decided he wants to marry her.
Shanks let out a short laugh.
—That doesn't sound like something that will end well.
—She refused. So now he's ruining her business. Nobody can go into her bar.
Shanks twirled the bottle between his fingers.
—What do you want me to do?
Rayleigh shrugged.
—Go over there. See how it is.
There was a brief silence. Finally, Shanks smiled slightly as he stood up.
—I guess I can go get a drink.
Rayleigh watched him leave with a calm smile.
—That's what I thought.