GRRRR! The Baratie rocked like a stubborn beast, its fish-shaped hull a blazing lantern defying the storm's snarling jaws. Inside, the restaurant roared like a pirate shanty unleashed—CLINK-CLANK! of glasses, HA-HA-HA! of sailors' bellows, and SIZZLE-POP! of pans, the air thick with fried fish and salty dreams. But tension crackled like a fuse sparking in gunpowder, all eyes on Lieutenant Ironfist Fullbody, his face purple as a rotten grape, sweat DRIP-DRIP! cascading down his brow, fist clenched as Silas Daytime's icy gaze skewered him like a harpoon. His date shrank into her seat, fan limp as a dead jellyfish, the crowd holding its breath as the storm outside growled in wicked harmony.
"BASTARD! HOW DARE YOU!" Fullbody roared, voice splintering like a mast in a hurricane. WHOOSH! His fist rocketed toward Silas's jaw, a desperate lunge to claw back his shattered pride. Diners gasped, mugs frozen mid-sip, the air electric with anticipation.
Silas stood like a shadow forged in steel, crimson hair flickering like cinders in a dying fire, his mischievous eyes pinning Fullbody with a weight that could sink a warship. The fist froze an inch from his face, Fullbody's arm quivering like a sail in a typhoon, Silas's gaze cold as the ocean's depths. GULP! Fullbody's bravado melted, knees wobbling like soggy dough, his slicked hair fraying into a chaotic tangle.
KABOOM! Sanji's polished shoe slammed into Fullbody's chest with a spinning kick, a black comet of fury. CRASH! Fullbody soared backward, smashing a table, plates exploding in a glorious CLATTER! as diners yelped and dove for cover. Sanji strode forward, cigarette flaring like a supernova, and yanked Fullbody up by the collar, hoisting him like a soggy dishrag. Blood dripped from Fullbody's nose, eyes dazed, uniform a crumpled disgrace. "How dare you attack a good customer, huh?!" Sanji snarled, voice sharp as a freshly honed cleaver, his chef's pride blazing like a wildfire. "You spit on the Baratie's food, you spit on me, you sorry sack of a Marine!" His eyes burned, a storm fiercer than the sea's wrath, and the restaurant erupted, mugs raised in a thundering CLINK!
WHOOOSH! Whispers exploded into cheers, the crowd gorging on the chaos like sharks on a fresh catch. Nami's eyes gleamed like polished berries, her mind whirling like a ship's compass in a squall. That cook's got style… and that redhead's a walking treasure chest. Zoro's grin sharpened, fingers drumming his sword hilt, a glint of respect sparking. No Haki, but sharper than a master's blade. Usopp, half-under the table, squealed, "DEMON! MONSTER! WE'RE ALL SHARK BAIT!" Luffy vaulted over the table, landing with a THUMP! that rattled the floorboards, his grin wide as a crescent moon splitting the night. "AWESOME! GUNBLADE GUY! COOL COOK! YOU'RE JOINING MY CREW NOW!"
Silas watched Luffy. That smile—carefree, wild, like a solar flare igniting the dark. For the first time in years, a cinder stirred in his chest. "Tch… this damn storm must be messing with my head," he muttered, voice low as a whisper in the gale. But lies never sat well in his mouth. That stupid grin… why did it remind him of dreams he buried long ago? Luffy's voice—"You're joining my crew NOW!"—rang like a ship's bell tolling through fog. Now? This brat's already claiming me? His rings glinted as he gripped his coffee cup, the cinder smoldering, refusing to die.
"Don't get any ideas, brat," Silas shot at Luffy, smirking, his voice sharp and teasing. "You look at least a year younger than me, but you're fresh meat out in these seas, Straw Hat!"
Luffy's eyes sparkled, his HA-HA-HA! shaking the air like a cannon blast. "Fresh meat?! Shishishi! You're the one joining my crew, Gunblade Guy!" His grin was unrelenting, like he'd already charted Silas's future on his ship.
Silas snorted, turning away, boots clicking softly on the wooden floor. This brat's got some nerve. But that grin lingered, a tide crashing against his iron walls. Fullbody, bloody and dazed, scrambled up, dragging his mortified date toward the door. "Y-you'll pay, pirate scum!" he croaked, voice cracking like a broken horn, hair a tangled wreck. SLAM! The doors shut, and diners roared with laughter, toasting Sanji's victory with clinking mugs and raucous cheers.
The Baratie surged back to life, plates clinking, voices soaring like gulls riding a gale. Sanji strutted over, balancing a tray of steaming fish, twirling his cigarette like a baton and winking at a giggling waitress who blushed like a dawn sky. "Nice move, Red, but I'm the main course here." His glance flicked to Silas's sabre, noting the custom grip etched with faint runes. No rookie. Trouble worth a second glance. He spun, calling to Fullbody's empty table, "A dessert for the lovely lady's lost seat, on the house!"
KABOOM! Zeff's voice thundered from the kitchen, rattling the walls like a cannon salvo. "Sanji, you damn eggplant! Stop flirting and cook, or I'll boot you to the All Blue myself!" His peg leg THUMPED like a war drum, his mustache quivering like a storm cloud, eyes sweeping the room and lingering on Silas with a glint of intrigue. Trouble. The kind that could churn the seas.
CREAK! The doors groaned open, slow and heavy, and a hush fell like a dropped cannonball. A man stumbled in, gaunt as a specter, clothes torn like sails shredded by a maelstrom, face shadowed by hunger and desperation. THUD! He collapsed to his knees, clutching his stomach, breath ragged as the storm outside. Diners gasped, chairs scraping as they craned forward. Sanji's grin vanished, cigarette pausing mid-puff, eyes narrowing with a flicker of something raw—memory, pain, a shadow of a starving boy he once was.
"Oi, you okay?!" Luffy called, shrimp forgotten, straw hat tilting, grin undimmed but curious. Zoro's hand settled on his sword, senses sharp as a katana's edge. Not just starving. Danger. Nami's eyes flicked over, calculating like a merchant in a storm. No berries. Another freeloader. Fantastic. Usopp peeked out, trembling like a leaf in a gale. "H-he's a ghost! A Grand Line wraith come to curse us all!"
Sanji stepped forward, shoes clicking with purpose. "Get up, pal. You're scaring the ladies." His tone was light, but his eyes were soft, searching, seeing a flicker of himself in the man's hollow gaze. The stranger—Gin, name still unknown—looked up, eyes fierce yet shattered, a wolf too proud to die. "Food…" he rasped, hands trembling like reeds in the wind. "Please… anything…"
The Baratie chefs jeered from the kitchen. "Toss him out, Sanji!" one sneered, twirling a cleaver like a pirate's cutlass. "No berries, no grub!" another barked, arms crossed. Zeff's peg leg THUMPED, voice booming like a cannon. "No freeloaders, you hear?!" But Sanji stood firm, cigarette glowing like a lighthouse beacon, eyes locked on Gin, a quiet fire burning in his chest.
Silas watched, coffee cup still, catching the glint of a dagger in Gin's tattered coat, hidden but razor-sharp. Dangerous. Not just a beggar. Sanji's stillness, his unflinching gaze on Gin, stirred something in Silas—a flicker of belief he couldn't name. He's giving him a chance. Like that brat would. Luffy's grin flashed in his mind, that solar flare searing through his defenses. It's just coincidence. That's all it is. He told himself that, but the words tasted hollow. Somewhere in his chest, the flame he'd smothered flickered. Why's that brat so damn sure? Luffy's "NOW" echoed, a call he wasn't ready to answer, and worst of all—why did part of him want to believe it?
CLATTER! Sanji turned, defying Zeff's glare with a swagger, and strode to the kitchen, steps sharp as a blade. He returned with a steaming plate of fried rice, golden as a sunrise, setting it before Gin with a flourish. "Eat," he said, voice low, firm, a vow carved in the salty air. Gin stared, eyes wide with disbelief, then tore into the food, GOBBLE-GOBBLE!, tears mixing with rice as he shoveled it in, hands shaking with gratitude. The restaurant fell silent, diners watching, some softening, others scoffing, the air heavy as a storm cloud.
"Sanji, you fool!" a chef barked, slamming a pan with a BANG! "That's your pay!" Zeff's mustache quivered like a thunderhead, eyes narrowing to slits, but he stayed silent, peg leg still. Luffy's grin stretched wider, straw hat bouncing like a buoy. "SO COOL! You're joining my crew, Cool Cook!" Sanji blew a smoke ring that curled like a dragon's tail, smirking like a fox. "Dream on, Straw Hat. I owe this place my life."
Silas watched, Sanji's kindness fanning the cinder in his chest, Luffy's grin a relentless tide. That stupid grin… why did it remind him of dreams he buried? The coffee was bitter, but it couldn't drown the feeling, that flicker of hope clawing its way back. Now? Luffy's voice rang, unshakable as the sea itself, and Silas's grip tightened, rings glinting like defiant stars against the dark.
WHISPER-WHISPER! A sailor's voice sliced through the silence like a cutlass. "That guy… he's with Don Krieg's crew! The Pirate Admiral himself!" GASP! The restaurant froze, forks pausing, mugs clattering to tables. Zoro's smirk vanished, hand tightening on his sword, eyes sharp as steel. Krieg. Trouble's coming. Nami's eyes widened, mind racing like a storm-tossed ship. A bounty worth millions… and a death sentence. Usopp dove under the table, squeaking, "FIFTY SHIPS?! WE'RE DEAD MEAT!" Luffy tilted his head, grin unfazed, bright as a lighthouse. "Huh. Sounds like a fun guy!"
Silas's eyes narrowed, catching Gin's flinch at the name, the dagger shifting in his coat like a coiled viper. Krieg. No accident. The storm outside roared, GRRRR!, the Baratie creaking like a ship braced for battle. The restaurant was a powder keg, Gin's arrival a lit fuse, and Luffy's grin a flame that wouldn't quit. Silas sipped his coffee, the taste sharp as memory, but Luffy's "NOW!" echoed louder, tugging at that smoldering cinder. I don't believe in legends. But as Gin's hollow eyes met Sanji's, and the name "Don Krieg" hung heavy as the storm, Silas felt the tide shift, wondering if this brat—this impossible, sun-bright brat—could make hope burn in a heart long turned to ash.