The commotion drew every eye in Baratie, even pulling Zeff from upstairs and Sanji from the kitchen.
"Enough, Paddy. Planning to smash the furniture again?" a deep, aged voice boomed from above, seizing everyone's attention.
An old man descended the stairs, dressed in a chef's uniform with a towering chef's hat. His golden mustache was braided into two long twists, framing his lips. A wooden peg leg on his right side clacked against the floor—thump, thump, thump.
The noisy navy men fell silent, unfazed by Paddy's Popeye-like bulk but wary of this old man. Civilians might not know his past, but the navy did.
A decade ago, he was the infamous captain of the Cook Pirates, renowned for leg techniques so fierce his kicks drew blood, staining his feet red—earning him the name "Red-Haired" Zeff.
Though retired, his reputation lingered. Who knew if he'd snap and deliver a crippling kick?
Zeff approached the navy, nudging Paddy with his peg leg. "What're you gawking at? Get to the ingredients. Making guests wait is rude."
Paddy pouted, clearly unafraid of Zeff, and shuffled toward Sora's table. His fierce scowl morphed into a blooming chrysanthemum grin, a master of face-switching. Bowing low, hands rubbing by his head, he fawned, "Sir, any further requests?"
The restaurant's diners twitched, collectively speechless. That obvious, huh?
Sora's lips quirked, amused by Paddy's antics. "Don't lean so close—I can see your nose hair. Gross. Go cook."
"Understood, sir! Your wish is my command!" Paddy backed off, straightened, dropped the grin, and marched to the kitchen.
With no fight brewing, other diners lost interest, returning to their meals. "That's it?" some muttered, disappointed. Rumor had it Baratie's chefs brawled with pirates and guests, drawing thrill-seekers.
Zeff faced the navy, now standing ramrod straight. "Fetch your Captain Luster for dinner," he said calmly. "Old friend of mine. He's usually first in. New recruits, huh? Haven't seen you before."
"Yes, Mr. Zeff," one replied cautiously. "If there's nothing else, we'll get the captain."
"Go on." Zeff waved them off.
The navy exhaled, scurrying out.
Sora, impressed by Zeff's effortless control, called out dramatically, "Yo! Worthy of a titled man. What presence!"
Zeff approached Sora's table, unfazed. "No presence here, sir. Just a humble restaurant owner."
"Whatever you are, can you hurry with the food?" Sora shrugged.
"Of course. Even the fastest cooking takes time," Zeff replied.
Slap! Sora tossed a stack of beri onto the table. "Now?"
Zeff's mouth twitched, sensing a slight. "Half an hour, sir."
Slap! Another stack. "Now?"
Zeff's calm cracked, a smile forming, his posture softening. If this is an insult, keep it coming. "Twenty minutes. My old bones can't go faster."
Slap! A massive pile, seven or eight stacks high. "Now?"
Sora grinned wider, enjoying Zeff's shifting expression. Smashing people with money was fun, especially with Krieg's "found" beri. Since leaving Shimotsuki, he'd shed his broke ship-building days. Call him Sora, the Richest. Every pirate ship's loot was his for the taking.
Zeff, eyeing the beri, dropped all pretense. Bowing, he mimicked Paddy's fawning grin, hands rubbing. "Five minutes, sir. I swear it."
Not a lack of principles—just too much money.
Sora burst into laughter. "Hahaha!"
Ahua, Alo, and Ata, watching the show, roared, pounding the table—bang, bang, bang. Kuina covered her mouth, shoulders shaking, her silvery laugh ringing out.
Zeff straightened, smiling at their mirth. He'd known Sora was joking and played along. Think I'd bend for beri alone?
As their laughter subsided, Zeff asked, "You lot don't dress like pirates. Sightseeing, or real adventure?"
"Adventure!" Ahua piped up. "We're circling the Grand Line!"
Sora had set that goal from the start.
"The Grand Line," Zeff mused, nostalgia in his eyes. "Haven't thought of it in years."
Ahua's trio knew Zeff as a chef, not an ex-pirate, unlike Sora or the navy. "You've been there, Mr. Zeff?" Ahua asked, adjusting his glasses.
Zeff smiled, reminiscing. "Long ago, I had dreams. Gathered like-minded friends and sailed there."
His face grew stern. "We lasted one year before we were wiped out. If not for a kind ship, I wouldn't be here."
"What then? Why open a restaurant at sea?" Alo asked, leaning on the table.
Ahua and Ata nodded, curious. Grand Line dangers didn't faze them—Sora's invincible strength shielded them. But why a sea restaurant? What sparked that?
Zeff's eyes flickered with fear. Pulling a chair, he sat beside Sora, recounting lightly his shipwreck and starvation on a barren island, skipping details about his leg and Sanji.
Ahua, glasses glinting, pieced it together. "So, Mr. Zeff, you endured ultimate hunger and opened Baratie to ensure no sailor starves?"
"Exactly," Zeff said.
The crew's eyes shone with admiration. For chefs, it was a noble dream.
Noticing their focus on Baratie over Grand Line perils, Zeff warned, "Prepare well before you go. The Grand Line's dangers dwarf the Four Seas. It's a den of the fiercest pirates."
"Pirates?" Ata shrugged, offering Zeff a cigarette. "Want one?"
Zeff waved it off. "These hands don't touch that. Taints the food."
Ata lit one for himself, unfazed. Seeing their nonchalance, Zeff pressed, "Pirates are one thing—you might escape. But a freak storm? You're done. I lost everything to one."
(End of Chapter)
Translator's Note: Every 50 Chapters I would be posting Characters'n name description, etc in the Aux. chapter. No need, to thank me.