You can read ahead up to 90 chapters on my patreon and I've also activated (date to date) subscription model on my patreon https://www.patreon.com/darkshadow6395
As long as I reach 200 dollars on my Patreon, I will post 10 extra bonus chapters per month in batches of 5 for that month. If I reach 300 dollars then I will post 15 extra bonus chapters in batches of 5 for that month. If I reach 400 dollars then I will post 20 extra bonus chapters in batches of 5 for that month. So come and support me.
Checking the Independent Commission Against Corruption's work reports was just incidental. Rowen wouldn't forget his primary reason for traveling all the way to East Blue.
"Moshi Moshi, is this Vazat San?"
"May I ask who's speaking?"
"All is true; all is permitted."
"…I understand."
"All is true; all is permitted" – this was the secret code issued to information network managers worldwide after the Marine Assassination Force was reorganized.
Even if ordinary people knew this code, it would be useless because it would only activate after dialing the specially-made Den Den Mushi that they carried.
At the same time, neither they nor anyone else would know who was calling them.
Vazat was an exception. He had once been fortunate enough to meet the voice's owner in Loguetown.
To avoid the unnecessary troubles his apparent pirate past might bring, he fled from the restaurant he worked at overnight, wandering aimlessly.
Now, he wanted to put an end to it.
"Sir, I'm at the sea-going restaurant Baratie. Would you have time to come over for a meal tomorrow?"
"Baratie?"
Rowen silently furrowed his brows. Generally, when information network managers met him, they would choose remote mountains and wilderness, the more deserted the better.
Like the time he crouched at the top of the Red Line eating noodles.
It had nothing to do with his fame. Before meeting him, very few people knew that the Marine Soryu himself would come.
It was merely a choice driven by the instinctual need for concealment from an information worker.
Rowen trusted that this manager, with thirty years of experience on his record, wouldn't overlook the impact a meeting at Baratie would have on his work.
Yet he still said it.
Vazat waited nervously for a reply, and after a long while, the voice came through the Den Den Mushi: "Tomorrow at 11 AM. Don't be late."
"Yes!"
After hanging up the phone, Vazat carefully placed the Den Den Mushi back into a box under his bed. He looked up to find his six-year-old son rubbing his eyes, asking in a sleepy voice:
"Daddy, why aren't you asleep yet?"
"Daddy's going to sleep now, Quint. You...didn't wet the bed, did you?"
His past experience told him that his son waking up halfway through the night was never a good thing!
"No way, hmph!"
╭(╯^╰)╮
Vazat: "..."
Watching his little boy turn away and fall asleep with a pouty face, Vazat stood there for a moment, then chuckled to himself.
He blew out the oil lamp and lay on the bed in the moonlight.
His eyes made hazy and cloudy by the passage of time, stared wide open at the window, lost in thought about who knows what.
The next day, Vazat woke up early.
He bid farewell to his wife warmly and boarded a merchant ship bound for Baratie.
As East Blue's most famous sea-going restaurant, Baratie's stock of ingredients typically runs out quickly, and frequently seeks islands to dock for replenishments.
This time, it happened to be docked close to his hometown, allowing him to take leave to visit his family.
"Hey, Vazat! Why are you back so soon? Didn't I tell you to spend more time with your family?"
Currently, Baratie didn't have the iconic massive fish-head connecting the iron-clad barbecue ship; there was only a main ship with a mackerel's head.
Zeff, who was arranging for the chefs to clean up, looked at him in surprise. This wasn't business hours, and it required him to leave quite early from home to get here.
"Boss Zeff, I'd like to host an important guest here today. I hope you'll allow it."
"You look worried. What kind of guest do you need to report individually?"
Baratie's chefs have their own social circles, even though they were pirates in the past. Under normal circumstances, if it were just ordinary acquaintances, Zeff wouldn't bother with such matters, nor would they come to report individually.
"It's…Marine Soryu!"
Vazat took a deep breath and uttered this name that resonated across the Sea.
Pā dā...
The smoking pipe fell to the ground, but Zeff had no time to pick it up.
He stared blankly at Vazat, his mouth hanging open as he asked, "What did you say?"
...
**11 AM:**
The *sea-going restaurant Baratie*, which should be bustling with guests at this time, was unusually quiet.
The fish-fin planks on both sides shimmered with water, and not a speck of dirt could be seen in the nooks and crannies.
Chefs dressed neatly stood in a line at the entrance with sweat dripping continuously from their foreheads.
"What's the big deal? Whether they're Marines or pirates, once they walk into a restaurant, they're just guests. What's there to be afraid of?"
Amidst the group of white chef uniforms, one man stood out in a black casual suit with blonde hair. He wasn't nervous at all. Instead, he leaned against the ship's body, lighting a cigarette with ease.
Sanji inherited more than just kicking techniques, cooking skills, and dreams from Zeff— he also picked up his smoking habit.
**Bang!**
"Get your act together, you brat!"
"I don't want to have to clean up your corpse!"
Zeff, with his pointed teeth, roared in frustration, smacking Sanji on the head with a cigarette butt.
"Ow... that hurts, you old geezer!"
The cigarette fell from Sanji's mouth to the ground. He crouched down, clutching his head, furiously rubbing his blonde hair.
"Huh? What did you call me?!"
"Old geezer! Why? Got a problem with that?"
**Bang! Bang! Bang!**
Soon, a heated skirmish broke out between them.
Vazat exchanged glances with the others as beads of cold sweat dripped down his face. They all shared a look of helplessness.
Having both sailed the seas, why is there such a difference between people?
Who is Marine Soryu?
He's a *monster*, whose very name can stop a child from crying at night!
Just his presence in East Blue over the past few days has caused such a storm that their business has dropped by more than thirty percent.
Although, to be fair, due to Marine's recent massive purges, business in East Blue wasn't that great to begin with.
If you're not a pirate, you wouldn't understand the terror that the name "Soryu" instills upon the sea.
There's a rumor among pirates that they'd rather face the extremely aggressive Admiral Akainu than encounter the "Undying Vice Admiral" Soryu.
Just then...
**Boom!**
A clap of thunder startled everyone on the ship, prompting them to look up fearfully at the sky.
The previously clear and blue sky was now covered with dense clouds, and it was as if countless indescribable giant-scale serpents were writhing within them, stirring the clouds like boiling soup.
"Hiss... Could it be..."
Sanji froze in shock, unable to believe his eyes as he looked up.
"Is this also the work of Soryu?"
"That's not entirely accurate."
Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice emerged from behind: "To be precise, this is a chain reaction caused by the power dispersing when I use my fruit ability to alter the weather. It's not something I deliberately create."
"It's similar to how ordinary people create a breeze while walking; only what I stir up is a change in the weather."
Sanji's eyes widened instantly. He hadn't even noticed when another person appeared behind him.
This incredible speed— was it human or a ghost?
**Shua!**
Startled, Sanji quickly turned around and looked up.
**So tall!**
Rowen's height, while not remarkable in the One Piece world, at 2.23 meters, was enough to look down on most ordinary people.
He could sense that with his fruit's awakening, his previously stagnating physique was once again showing signs of surpassing its limits.
He was tall but not burly.
If he didn't know that the man before him couldn't possibly be impersonating the famous Marine Soryu, Sanji would find it hard to associate this seemingly ordinary man with that legendary figure.
It was only his eyes— glittering like stars— that seemed like a vortex, impossible to look away from.
When a strong person's spirit and energy are condensed to a certain extent, the eyes become the only visible window to the outside.
Hence, there's a legend on the sea that so-and-so can kill with just a glance.
That's actually a form of pressure attack similar to Haoshoku Haki, formed by an exceptionally concentrated spirit and energy, commonly known as "scaring someone to death."
"Sor... Vice Admiral Soryu, I'm Vazat."
At this moment, a man in his fifties, slightly plump and dressed in a chef's uniform, stepped forward, bowing slightly to Rowen in greeting.
Zeff watched this scene with confusion. Clearly, Vazat was the one who invited Rowen for a meal, but why did it seem like they were meeting for the first time?
"Let's not talk about these things yet. Since I've made the effort to come to East Blue, let me first try the renowned signature dishes of the sea-going restaurant Baratie."
Rowen waved his hand, signaling him not to rush. He then turned his head, looking at Zeff, and naturally at Sanji, with a smile: "I should mention that I'm used to dining in Century City and Golden City, where the world's top chefs gather. Satisfying me won't be easy."
**Century City, Golden City.**
These are the most luxurious entertainment cities on the Grand Line and indeed, the entire world. The culinary skills of chefs who can serve as masters there are self-evident.
Not to mention, the simplest of all, the dominance of top-level ingredients.
"Don't worry. If we can't satisfy our guests, we have no right to call ourselves chefs!"
Sanji rolled up his sleeves, flashing a confident smile.
Zeff: "…"
*(Chapter End)*
---