Beast of Shadows

》Fourteen《

"A demon who's addicted to alchohol huh?" Sanji mused, pushing a cart through the market. He eyed the fresh produce as Zoro moodily walked beside him.

"For the last time. Yes, I drink. Are you gonna get me some or what?" Zoro grouched, avoiding eye-contact with the chef. Sanji found his grumpiness adorable, not that he'd ever tell the Marimo that.

"Yes, yes. What do you want?" Zoro blinked owlishly in surprise, effectively tugging on Sanji's heartstrings. It was very likely that the mosshead had never had formed a contract with someone like the chef before. Sanji was determined to give Zoro a say, because this was half the blonde's fault too.

"Whiskey." Zoro finally blurted, posture stiff with confusion and wariness. Sanji snorted, his gaze snapping down to the blond.

"We'll stop and get you some Whiskey Marimo." Zoro nodded with a what Sanji would like to call a grateful grunt.

"Question." Sanji piped up after he had chosen some potatoes and onions to place in the cart. Zoro shot him a disbelieving look, a smirk making his brows smooth out.

"Answer." He replied, managing to sound more barbaric than the blond did. Sanji chuckled, shaking his head. He didn't know whether to be pissed or amused that Zoro had so effortlessly jumped onboard with Sanji's quirky antics.

"If we break the contract, wouldn't you go back to...hell?" Sanji lowered his voice at the end, tearing his ocean eyes away from the avacados to stare at Zoro expectantly.

"What you and I made when you were a kid wasn't a full contract. It was more of an exchange, you gave me something and I returned the favor. After that favor is given, then there's a resting period of a few hundred years before I'm yanked back downstairs." Zoro shrugged, watching Sanji as the blond held up a pineapple to examine. The chef gave him a side glance, the demon kept looking around as if he expected an ambush at any second.

"There's something you're not telling me." Sanji accused, frowning at the Marimo in disapproval. Zoro glanced at him, an indescribable emotion shimmering in his lone gaze.

"Yes." He admitted lowly, eye sweeping around the store as if he expected someone to be listening.

"Well? What is it?" Sanji hissed, his own voice dropping down to a whisper. The chef instantly felt like an idiot, scowling to himself while Zoro seemed to be searching for the right words.

"You know how Luffy is up here right?" Sanji nodded warily, not sure where the Marimo was going with this.

"His inner circle knights are all up here too, I was the last." Sanji blinked, not following. Zoro had a knowing frown of irritation on his lips, sighing like Sanji was somehow an idiot for not understanding.

"There's no one of high rank in hell. There's no order." Sanji's eyes widened comically as the meaning behind the loaded words dawned on him. His mouth opened and closed like a suffocating fish for a moment or two.

"Shit." Sanji hissed, putting the pineapple back just so he could take a hot minute to scoop up his shattered brain.

"That's not even the worst of it." Zoro continued, the chef turning back to face the Marimo with his brows raised in disbelief.

"There's this group that regulates punishment in hell, they're called the Marines. They're big on rules, and Luffy tends to break them often." That little tidbit of information didn't surprise the blond, this was the devil for fucks sake. The guy was known for rebelling and finding loopholes.

"Why are they called Marines?" Sanji asked, curious and slightly intimidated.

"They're demons known for their water combat, especially the higher-ups." Zoro gave a quick, but subtle, glance around their immediate persons.