The golden hues of the setting sun bathed the private beach in a warm glow, the soft lapping of waves against the shore providing a tranquil backdrop. For the first time in years, Raizer Phoenix stood in the middle of it all, not strategizing, not training, but simply existing.
It was a rare moment of peace—a much-needed vacation on a secluded Hawaiian beach, far from the political machinations of the underworld and the intensity of constant training. This wasn't just a break for him but also for his peerage, who had grown to be more than just allies. They were a team, a family forged through battles, trust, and shared ambition.
Raizer inhaled deeply, the scent of salt and sea filling his lungs. He let the sound of his peerage enjoying themselves wash over him, a reminder that even the strongest needed moments like these to stay grounded.
A New Kind of Training
Garp, unsurprisingly, had taken the first opportunity to turn the beach into a training ground. The massive man was currently hurling boulders into the ocean, each one landing with a thunderous splash that sent waves crashing back onto the shore.
"BAHAHAHA! This is great! Who needs a gym when you've got nature's weights right here?" Garp boomed, hefting another boulder.
"Do you even know what the word 'vacation' means, old man?" Ben Beckman called from his spot under a shady palm tree, a cigarette dangling lazily from his lips.
Garp barked a laugh. "Vacations are for weaklings! You can rest while you're dead!"
Raizer, lying on a beach chair nearby, chuckled softly. "Garp, I don't think you'll ever slow down, even if you wanted to."
"Damn right!" Garp replied, tossing another boulder into the ocean.
Dracula Mihawk, perched gracefully on a rocky outcrop overlooking the beach, smirked as he watched the exchange. "It's fortunate the rest of us have a different definition of leisure. Not everyone finds throwing rocks therapeutic."
Mihawk's calm, refined demeanor contrasted sharply with Garp's boisterous energy. His sword, Yoru, rested against the rock beside him, its dark blade gleaming faintly in the sunlight. He had spent most of the afternoon meditating, the rhythmic sound of the waves providing an ideal backdrop for his focus.
"I think this is as close to 'fun' as Mihawk gets," Raizer quipped, earning a slight smirk from the swordsman.
Whitebeard's Challenge
A short distance down the beach, Edward "Whitebeard" Newgate was laughing heartily as he sat on a makeshift throne of driftwood. Around him, a collection of seashells, coconuts, and random debris had been assembled into what could only be described as a pirate's version of a sandcastle.
"This beach is ours now!" Whitebeard declared, his voice like thunder as he raised his bisento triumphantly.
Garp glanced over, grinning. "Whitebeard, you're not seriously claiming the beach, are you?"
Whitebeard laughed, his booming voice rivaling the crashing waves. "Why not? Every pirate needs territory, even on vacation!"
Raizer shook his head in amusement, walking over to join the self-proclaimed king of the beach. "And what happens if someone challenges you for it?"
Whitebeard grinned down at him, his large frame casting a shadow over the younger devil. "Then I'll do what I always do—win."
"Of course," Raizer said, rolling his eyes. "Try not to destroy the beach while you're at it."
Roger's Mischief
Meanwhile, Gol D. Roger had found his entertainment in a far less structured way. The Pirate King was running along the shore with a makeshift fishing pole, attempting to catch fish in the shallow waters.
"Come on, you slippery little things!" Roger shouted, his grin as wide as ever.
Ben Beckman, watching from the shade, raised an eyebrow. "You do know we could just have the staff bring food, right?"
Roger waved a hand dismissively. "Where's the fun in that? This is real fishing!"
Mihawk's dry tone cut in. "If you keep shouting, you'll scare away every fish in the area."
"Maybe I'll scare them right into my hands!" Roger countered, laughing as he nearly fell into the water.
Raizer watched the chaos unfold with a faint smile. His peerage was as diverse in personality as it was in power. Garp's boisterous energy, Mihawk's quiet precision, Beckman's cool intellect, Whitebeard's larger-than-life presence, and Roger's boundless enthusiasm—it was a strange mix, but it worked.
Bonding Over Stories
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm orange glow over the beach, the group gathered around a bonfire that Raizer had conjured with his phoenix flames. The fire crackled and danced, its golden light reflecting off the faces of the legendary figures seated around it.
Whitebeard leaned back against a log, a tankard of ale in hand. "This reminds me of the nights we'd spend on the Moby Dick, sharing stories and drinking until sunrise."
Roger, seated beside him, grinned. "And by 'sharing stories,' you mean making bets and trying to one-up each other."
Whitebeard laughed. "Same thing!"
Garp, sitting cross-legged on the sand, jabbed a finger at Roger. "I still remember the time you lost that bet and had to eat a month's worth of my cooking!"
Roger groaned dramatically. "Don't remind me. I still can't look at beans the same way."
The group erupted into laughter, the sound carrying out over the waves. Even Mihawk allowed himself a faint chuckle, though he remained characteristically reserved.
Raizer watched the scene with quiet satisfaction. Moments like these reminded him why he had chosen each of them for his peerage. They weren't just powerful allies—they were individuals with depth, experiences, and stories that enriched his own journey.
A Conversation with Beckman
As the laughter died down and the others turned their attention to their drinks and the fire, Raizer found himself sitting beside Ben Beckman. The older man had a cigarette in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other, his sharp eyes fixed on the horizon.
"You've been quiet," Raizer said, his tone conversational.
Beckman exhaled a stream of smoke, glancing over at him. "Not much to say. This is your moment, after all. I'm just here to enjoy the show."
Raizer tilted his head. "You mean the show of Garp and Whitebeard trying to out-drink each other?"
Beckman smirked. "Something like that." He took a sip of his whiskey, his expression turning thoughtful. "You've built something impressive here, Raizer. A peerage like this—it's not just about power. It's about trust. That's rare, even among devils."
Raizer nodded, his gaze dropping to the fire. "It's not easy. But I've learned that strength alone isn't enough. If you don't have people you can rely on, you'll eventually fall."
Beckman studied him for a moment before nodding. "Wise words for someone your age. Keep that in mind, and you'll go far."
Mihawk's Lesson
Later in the evening, Raizer found Mihawk sitting alone by the water, Yoru resting across his lap. The swordsman's silhouette was framed by the moonlight, giving him an almost ethereal presence.
Raizer approached quietly, taking a seat beside him.
"You don't seem like the type to enjoy vacations," Raizer said.
Mihawk glanced at him, a faint smirk on his lips. "And you don't seem like the type to take them."
Raizer chuckled. "Fair enough. But even I need a break sometimes."
Mihawk's gaze returned to the ocean. "True strength isn't just about training. It's about balance. If all you do is fight, you'll eventually lose sight of why you're fighting in the first place."
Raizer nodded slowly. "Is that why you agreed to teach me? To remind me of that balance?"
Mihawk's smirk widened slightly. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I simply saw potential in you. Either way, you've proven yourself worthy of the blade. Don't waste that potential."
"I won't," Raizer said, his voice firm.
A Night of Reflection
As the fire burned lower and the group began to drift off to their respective corners of the beach, Raizer remained by the fire, staring into the flames. The crackling embers mirrored the fire in his heart—a flame that burned for something greater than himself.
His peerage had become more than just a collection of powerful allies. They were his friends, his mentors, and his family. Each of them brought something unique to the table, and together, they were unstoppable.
But Raizer knew that the road ahead wouldn't always be this peaceful. There were battles to be fought, alliances to be forged, and an empire to build. This vacation was a brief reprieve, a moment of calm before the storm.
As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, Raizer rose to his feet, his resolve stronger than ever.
"This is just the beginning," he whispered to himself. "Together, we'll create a legacy that will never be forgotten."
With that, he turned toward the water, ready to face whatever the future held.
This concludes Chapter 10, focusing on a slice-of-life moment where Raizer and his peerage bond during a vacation on a private Hawaiian beach. Let me know if you'd like further expansions or adjustments!