Patty stood in the bathroom, his reflection staring back at him in the slightly fogged mirror. His apron was tied meticulously, his shirt spotless. , He squared his shoulders, and began reciting his mantra with a deliberate rhythm. "The customer is king. Serving the customer is love. Service motto, service mott—"
A thunderous bang shook the walls, cutting him off mid-sentence. The vibration rattled the mirror, and faint sounds of shouting and shattering glass seeped through the door.
"What the heck?!" Patty exclaimed, tossing aside the towel he'd been wiping his hands with. Without hesitation, he yanked open the door and sprinted down the hallway, his heavy boots echoing against the polished floor.
As he burst onto the restaurant floor, he skidded to a halt, his jaw dropping at the scene before him. Lying face-down in a growing puddle of spilled wine was none other than Marine Lieutenant Fullbody. His once-pristine white uniform was smeared with stains, bits of food clinging to the fabric. Shards of broken plates littered the floor around him, and the murmur of shocked customers filled the air.
"What happened here?" Patty barked, his gaze darting from the unconscious lieutenant to the stunned faces of the diners and staff.
Sanji stood nonchalantly a few feet away, with a cigarette perched between his fingers. He blew a thin stream of smoke into the air before replying, "He disrespected the food."
Patty's face turned beet red, his temper flaring instantly. Stomping toward Sanji, he jabbed a finger in his face. "So what?!" he roared. "He's still a precious customer! And not just any customer—a Marine lieutenant! Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you've just dragged us into?!"
Sanji's expression remained unchanged. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, his gaze steady and unflinching. "What's the big deal with customers," he replied evenly, "especially ones who don't respect food? I don't serve trash."
Patty opened his mouth to fire back, but a loud, rhythmic thudding interrupted him. The sound of wood striking the stairs echoed through the room, drawing every eye toward the source.
Descending the staircase at a deliberate pace was Zeff, the head chef, his wooden peg leg striking the floor with an ominous cadence. His sharp eyes scanned the room, taking in the unconscious Marine, the shattered plates, and the brewing argument between his two chefs.
"What the hell is going on here?" Zeff demanded, his gravelly voice cutting through the din. His piercing gaze landed on Fullbody's lifeless form before flicking between Patty and Sanji.
Patty wasted no time. He jabbed a thumb toward Sanji, his frustration boiling over. "Ask him!" he yelled. "This idiot knocked out a Marine lieutenant! Do you even understand what this could mean for us?"
Zeff's frown deepened, the lines on his weathered face hardening. He opened his mouth to speak, but a loud, cheerful voice interrupted him.
"Oh, it's the old geezer with the wooden leg!" Luffy exclaimed from a nearby table, his grin as wide and clueless as ever.
The ripple of murmurs that followed was immediate and incredulous.
"What's wrong with that kid?" whispered a woman clutching her partner's arm.
"Is he insane?" muttered another customer. "First, he distracts the chef, and now he's insulting the head chef?"
Zeff's patience snapped. With a sudden burst of speed that defied his age, he launched a powerful kick at Luffy. The impact sent the rubbery boy flying across the room, crashing into the wall with a comical thud. When the dust settled, there was a Luffy-shaped dent in the plaster.
"Have some respect," Zeff growled.
Luffy, his head still embedded in the wall, managed a muffled, "Sorry, old man…" With considerable effort, he pulled himself free and tumbled backward, landing squarely on Zoro.
"Hey, Luffy, what was that for—"
Before Luffy could offer an explanation, the restaurant's doors flew open with a resounding bang. A Marine soldier stumbled inside, his uniform tattered, His face was pale, his breaths ragged and desperate.
"Trouble!" the soldier shouted, his voice strained and frantic. "Lieutenant Fullbody—one of Krieg's men escaped! He's coming here!" His panicked gaze fell on the unconscious Marine. "What happened to the lieutenant—"
Before he could finish, a sharp crack of gunfire rang out.
The restaurant erupted into chaos.
Patty stood frozen for a moment, his mind racing. He blinked, then muttered under his breath, "Well, looks like we've got a new customer…"
Zeff's jaw tightened as he glanced toward the disturbance. "That idiot better not cause a rampage in my restaurant," he muttered darkly.
At the center of the room stood a tall, wiry man with wild eyes. His clothes were tattered, and a thin stream of blood dripped from his forehead. His walk was unsteady as he staggered toward a nearby table, slamming his foot down.
"This is a restaurant, right?" the man rasped. "Bring me food. Anything… just bring me food."
Patty approached him, a sneer spreading across his face. "Welcome, you damn crook," he spat.
The man glared at Patty, his sunken eyes bloodshot and his body trembling with a mixture of exhaustion and desperation. His voice was hoarse as he growled, "Listen, just bring me food. Any food. I don't care what it is."
Patty raised an eyebrow, his burly arms crossed over his chest like an immovable fortress. The sharp lines of his face reflected skepticism as he asked, "Do you have any money, sir?"
The man didn't answer immediately, pointing the pistol and leveling it directly at Patty. His hand shook slightly, but his voice didn't waver as he snarled, 'Would a bullet do?"
Gasps erupted throughout the restaurant, the air thick with panic. Customers ducked behind tables, their faces pale with fear. A woman clutched her child tightly, whispering, "What kind of lunatic is he?"
"Is he crazy?" another customer hissed, his wide eyes darting between the man and Patty.
Patty, however, didn't flinch. "So, you don't have money," he said flatly, his tone devoid of fear.
The man blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the lack of reaction. Before he could compose himself, Patty moved.
With the precision and force of a hammer, Patty lunged forward, his massive arms swinging down in a thunderous double-handed strike. The impact was explosive, sending the man crashing into a table that shattered into splinters beneath his weight.
"What the hell?!" Zeff bellowed. "That idiot just destroyed one of my tables!"
For a moment, the room was silent. Then, a ripple of cheers broke out among the customers and cooks of the Baratie.
"Get him, cook! Get him, Patty!" someone shouted, clapping enthusiastically.
Patty wasn't done. He delivered a series of powerful kicks, each blow sending the man closer to the entrance. With one final heave, Patty hurled him out the door.
"Don't come back!" Patty bellowed, brushing his hands off.
Outside, the man groaned, his body sprawled on the deck. The harsh sunlight bore down on him, highlighting the bruises already forming on his battered frame.
Luffy, perched lazily on the railing of the Baratie, watched the scene unfold with unconcealed amusement. A wide grin spread across his face as he called out, "You're hungry, right? Don't worry, my chef's cooking something for you!"
The man lifted his head weakly, his expression contorted in a mix of humiliation and anger. "Shut up," he rasped, his voice barely audible.
Before he could say anything more, the soft sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention. Sanji appeared, holding a steaming plate of food and a glass of water in his hands. Without a word, he crouched beside the man and placed the meal on the ground before him.
"Eat up," Sanji said calmly.
The man's pride flared again. He shook his head, his voice trembling as he muttered, "No. Take it away. I don't take charity."
Sanji's blue eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. "Eat it and stop whining," he snapped. His voice softened, but the edge remained. "I can't imagine how terrifying it must've been for you, starving and barely holding on. Don't make it worse for yourself."
The man hesitated, his resolve crumbling under the weight of both his hunger and Sanji's gaze. With trembling hands, he picked up the utensils and began to eat. Tears streaked his dirt-stained face as he took bite after ravenous bite. Between mouthfuls, he mumbled, "Thank you… I thought I was going to die."
Luffy, unable to resist, leaped down from the railing, landing lightly beside Sanji with his characteristic wide grin. "Sanji, you're joining us again right ?"
Sanji sighed, running a hand through his blond hair. "What other option do I have, Luffy?"
Luffy's grin stretched even wider. "Sanji, I caught a huge fish! Cook it for me, please! I'm starving!"
Sanji rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You really haven't changed at all, huh?"
A Few Moments Later
At the center of the room sat Don Krieg, a towering figure clad in gleaming golden armor that radiated an aura of menace. His piercing gaze locked onto Gin, who stood stiffly at attention before him.
"So, that chef saved your life, Gin," Krieg rumbled, his voice a low growl that seemed to vibrate through the room.
Gin's head dipped slightly in acknowledgment. "Yes, Captain. He gave me food when I was at death's door."
Gin hesitated, his jaw tightening for a brief moment. Then, in a steady voice, he replied, "I'll take you there. To the sea restaurant—the Baratie."
Luffy leaned back casually in his chair, his trademark grin stretching from ear to ear. "Sanji, that fish was amazing!" he said, rubbing his stomach contentedly.
Nearby, Usopp, seated with his legs crossed, pointed dramatically toward Fullbody's unconscious form sprawled awkwardly on the floor. "Oi, Sanji, wasn't that kick a bit too much? The marine lieutenant's still out cold!" Around them, diners moved gingerly around Fullbody, treating him like a ghost they were too afraid to acknowledge directly.
Sanji exhaled a puff of smoke, his expression unbothered as he crossed his arms. "He deserved it for throwing food on the ground. Nobody disrespects a meal in my restaurant."
Zoro, leaning lazily against a pillar with his swords tucked at his side, let out a low chuckle. "Curly brows, don't act like you're innocent. You started it by spilling wine on him, idiot."
Sanji's blue eyes flared, and he turned sharply toward Zoro, jabbing an accusatory finger in his direction. "Mosshead, that's no excuse for wasting perfectly good food! You're as brain-dead as ever!"
Zoro's smirk faded into a scowl. "Tch. You're lucky I don't feel like arguing, waiter."
Sanji was about to retort, but his attention shifted back to the group. Curiosity flickered in his eyes as he changed the subject. "So, tell me. Why are we all back in time—or at least, in the past? Is this connected to that storm you mentioned, or what?"
Nami rested her chin on her hand, her brows furrowed in thought. "We don't have any clues yet. Nothing about this makes sense."
Usopp, ever the optimist, chimed in, throwing his hands up as if presenting a grand idea. "Maybe we shouldn't waste this chance! It could be divine judgment—or fate giving us a second shot!"
Before anyone could respond, the thudding sound of a wooden peg leg echoed from the staircase. Zeff appeared, descending steadily, his expression a mixture of bemusement and mild irritation. "Didn't know you had friends, brat," he remarked, his sharp eyes locking onto Sanji.
Sanji opened his mouth, ready with a sharp reply, but the sudden crash of shattering glass froze him mid-sentence.
A woman's scream pierced the air, and a man at a nearby table pointed out the large window, his face pale as a sheet. "That flag… That's the ruler of the East Blue! Don Krieg!"
Sanji looks at Luffy and says, "I'll be back," as he walks up the stairs.
The room erupted into murmurs of panic, the words spreading like wildfire through the frightened crowd.
"Are we going to be okay?"
"What's he doing here?"
"Don Krieg… He's supposed to be unbeatable…"
The towering silhouette of Don Krieg's warship loomed over the restaurant, its menacing form casting a long shadow across the Baratie. As the massive ship came to a halt, a chilling silence gripped the restaurant. Through the Baratie's windows, Krieg's figure emerged, towering and fearsome, flanked by a gaunt yet determined Gin.
The restaurant doors swung open, and Gin staggered inside, supporting the weary Don Krieg. The once-feared pirate was almost unrecognizable—his body thin and haggard, his movements sluggish, and his eyes sunken from hunger. His voice, usually filled with arrogance, came out in a desperate rasp: "Please… Does anyone have food?"
Sanji didn't hesitate as he descended the stairs. "Out of my way, Patty," he said, delivering a swift kick to Patty's face, sending him stumbling aside.
Ignoring the gasps and protests from the crowd, Sanji approached Gin and Don Krieg with a plate of food in hand. Kneeling slightly, he held the plate out. "Here. Take it."
The diners erupted into a cacophony of disbelief.
"What's he thinking? That's Don Krieg!"
"Has he lost his mind? He's going to destroy the Baratie!"
Gin's expression softened, a mix of shock and gratitude washing over his features. "Thank you…" he said, his voice trembling with emotion.
Don Krieg, however, snatched the food from Sanji's hands with the ferocity of a starving beast. He devoured it at a savage pace, crumbs and morsels falling from his mouth as he ate with a single-minded hunger.
Carne burst out from the kitchen, his face flushed with fury. "Sanji, you idiot! Don't trust him! You don't know what kind of man Don Krieg is! He won't leave this place in peace!"
As if to prove Carne's point, Don Krieg suddenly lunged at Sanji, his gaunt hand balled into a fist aimed directly at him.
Sanji, ever prepared, sidestepped effortlessly and retaliated with a sharp kick to Krieg's chest. The blow was precise, sending Krieg stumbling backward with a grunt of pain. "Get out of here, as you promised," Sanji said coldly, his voice like steel.
Zeff, now standing at the base of the staircase, broke the silence. He tossed a heavy sack of provisions to the floor with a resounding thud. The force of the impact made the floor creak beneath it. "Take this," Zeff said firmly. "Feed your men and leave this place."
The restaurant fell deathly silent, all eyes on Don Krieg. He stood frozen, his chest heaving, his gaze flickering between Zeff and the provisions. The weight of the demand lingered in the tense air as the crowd collectively held their breath.