Beck Beckman

The bar in the small port town was buzzing with laughter and music. Shanks' team had been celebrating another successfully completed adventure for several hours. Some were arguing over cards, some were singing loudly, and Shanks himself was just laughing, pouring rum for his people.
But amidst all this noise, Beck Beckman sat calmly, leaning back in his chair, rolling a cigarette between his fingers. His habitually cold gaze swept the room until it suddenly stopped.
One of the waitresses was walking past their table, her dark hair carelessly pulled back, her shirt sleeves rolled up, and her eyes showing that sparkle you rarely see in people who are afraid of pirates.
“Will you have anything else?” she asked calmly, not even embarrassed by the noisy company.
Beckman smiled faintly at the corner of his lips.
"Maybe your name to start with?"
Shanks, who heard this, immediately burst out laughing.
— Wow, Beckman, you're in a good mood today!
The team burst into laughter, and the waitress just shook her head, suppressing a smile.