In a secluded laboratory on Angel Island, Skypiea, Reiju stood poised beside a sleek lab table. Dressed in a crisp white lab coat and a short skirt, she leaned over a microscope, her gaze fixed on a magnified blood sample. Her focus was absolute—until a pair of strong arms encircled her waist.
She recognized the intruder instantly by his presence alone, so she didn't flinch. Instead, she remained still, her attention still fixed on the microscope. Then, she felt warm lips brush against her right earlobe, teasing it with soft licks and nibbles. A faint shiver ran through her body.
With a sigh, Reiju turned to face him. She draped her arms around Sephiroth's neck and smiled. "Do you want to do it in the lab today?"
He chuckled, his hand brushing her cheek. "The lab sounds tempting, but it's almost lunchtime. How about I take you out for a meal? A private date."
Reiju raised an eyebrow, her tone playful. "A private date? Just the two of us? That's rare." It wasn't unheard of, but Sephiroth's dates were usually shared with others. Alone time like this came only once every month or two.
Sephiroth didn't miss a beat, his smile unfaltering. "Indeed. A private date. Would you honor me, my lady?"
Reiju tilted her head, intrigued. "Where are you planning to take me?"
"How about Baratie, the famous sea restaurant in East Blue? And while we're there, we can visit your long-lost younger brother."
Her eyes widened. "Sanji? Where is he?"
"He's working as the sous chef at Baratie."
Reiju's expression softened, her curiosity piqued. "I've heard of Baratie. I'd love to see how good their food really is."
Soon after, Sephiroth and Reiju were speeding across the East Blue on a sleek alloy speedboat. Their destination loomed in the distance: a massive three-decked sailboat shaped like a giant green fish. Two broad deck platforms extended from its sides, bustling with diners. This was Baratie, the legendary sea restaurant.
The restaurant was helmed by Zeff, its owner and head chef. Once a notorious pirate known as "Red-Leg" Zeff for his devastating kicks, he had left piracy behind after losing his right foot in a shipwreck. He returned to East Blue and built Baratie, turning his life around.
Zeff's bounty, once a modest 60 million Berries, had faded into obscurity after his retirement. The Marines, overwhelmed by the sheer number of pirates in this era, often overlooked minor figures who stayed out of trouble. Pursuing every retired pirate would only push them into stronger crews, exacerbating the problem. It was a delicate balance—one the Marines couldn't afford to upset.
If they relentlessly pursued every minor character who chose to retire, they'd not only drive them into the arms of more powerful crews but also stretch their own forces thin. Doubling or even tripling their manpower would barely suffice to keep up with the growing chaos.
With the Marines' tacit approval, Zeff managed to safely establish his restaurant in East Blue and run his modest business. When Sephiroth docked his speedboat at the designated parking area near the Baratie, he casually surveyed the scene. The Merry Go was moored nearby.
On the deck, Zoro lay sound asleep, while Usopp sat cross-legged, head bowed, tinkering with bottles and jars as if concocting something. Luffy was nowhere in sight.
At the Baratie's entrance stood a burly man with a buzz cut, a stern expression, and a white apron. Spotting Sephiroth and Reiju approaching, he greeted them with a chuckle. "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, do you have a reservation? If not, you'll need to wait. We're completely full at the moment."
"Of course we have a reservation," Sephiroth replied with a smile. "I'm Sephiroth, and I've booked the entire second floor of your Baratie."
The burly man's demeanor shifted instantly. He bowed deeply and gestured toward the entrance. "Ah, esteemed guest! Please, come in! Right this way!"
The Baratie had opened its side decks for business today because the second floor had been fully reserved. Zeff had no choice but to utilize the side decks, typically reserved for brawls, to accommodate the overflow of customers.
Led by the burly man, Sephiroth and Reiju ascended the spiral staircase to the second floor and settled at a window-side table. The third floor housed the kitchen and staff dormitory, and occasionally, waiters and chefs carrying trays of food could be seen descending the stairs.
"What would you two like to order?" the burly man asked, rubbing his hands together.
Sephiroth opened the menu, scanned it briefly, and said calmly, "Bring us every dish on your menu. And I'd like your sous chef Sanji to prepare them. Is that acceptable?"
The burly man blinked, momentarily stunned, but quickly nodded. "Ah! Of course, of course! It's an honor that you'd specifically request that bastard Sanji." He bowed slightly, then hurried up to the third-floor kitchen.
Once there, he scanned the bustling kitchen and called out to a blonde man with curly eyebrows, dressed in a black suit and white apron, busy at the stove. "Sanji! The guest on the second floor requested you personally to prepare every dish on the menu. Don't screw this up and embarrass the Baratie!"
Sanji turned his head sharply, glaring at the man. "I heard you, Patty! Stop yelling nonsense in my ear."
Patty snorted. "If you mess this up and the dishes don't satisfy the guests, Boss Zeff will be furious. You'd better take this seriously."
"Stop nagging!" Sanji shot back. "My skills have already surpassed Old Man Zeff's. The guests will be raving about my food."
Just as those words left his mouth, a wooden stick came down hard on his head. Sanji whipped around to see an elderly blonde man with a prosthetic wooden leg, dressed in a white chef's uniform and towering hat, his facial hair braided into two golden strands—Zeff.
"You brat!" Zeff barked. "You think you've surpassed me? You're a hundred years too early!"
"If you screw up today's service, you're out of this restaurant." Zeff's voice carried a sharp edge. His warning echoed through the kitchen, cutting through the usual clatter of pans and knives. Just days ago, a man in a black suit had walked into the Baratie, the renowned sea restaurant. He'd made an unprecedented request—to book the entire second floor for a mysterious client.
Zeff had initially refused, his principles firm. But then came the offer: a staggering hundred million Berries. The amount was impossible to ignore. After a brief pause—three seconds, to be exact—the pragmatic chef had agreed. Business was business, after all.
Sanji let out a derisive snort, tossing a glance at Zeff. "Quit your whining, old man. My cooking will speak for itself." His tone was confident, bordering on defiant. Sanji wasn't just any sous chef; his skills rivaled Zeff's, a fact acknowledged by everyone in the restaurant. He could easily strike out on his own, forge his own path. But he hadn't.
The reason lay in the past, in a moment Sanji couldn't forget. During a shipwreck, Zeff had lost his right leg saving Sanji's life. That debt weighed heavily on him, anchoring him to the Baratie. Leaving wasn't an option—not yet, anyway.
However, Sanji had always been bothered by the fact that Zeff had sacrificed so much for him. The guilt lingered, a constant reminder of the debt he could never fully repay.