Boom!
The cannon roared.
Fullbody was already taking a dinghy toward Baratie, not sparing the pirates behind him a glance.
"Hey, are you kidding me—what are you trying to do to my ship?!"
With almost no warning—before Zoro could even touch his hilt—Luffy moved.
Not a normal springing lunge; his whole body flushed crimson as fine white steam boiled from every pore.
"Second Gear—Gum-Gum Jet Pistol!"
What was that?
Nami covered her mouth.
Swoosh!
A blur of Luffy remained where he'd been. He appeared midair, striking form set, a shriek of air ripping in his wake.
"So fast!" Zoro's eyes widened. Faster than his blades.
The technique had worked.
By accelerating blood flow to reinforce the body—like an adrenaline surge—an ordinary person's vessels would burst. Luffy felt no strain.
He was rubber.
"Well? Pretty fast, right? I just developed this move."
He couldn't wait to see the shock on their faces.
"Very fast, very fast."
"Thanks, Luffy—on behalf of the Going Merry!"
"Yeah, that's him."
Usopp and the others humored him.
Between Luffy and her wallet, Nami chose the latter. A place like Baratie wouldn't be cheap.
The solid shot Luffy had sent flying streaked toward the restaurant's glass dome and punched a huge hole straight through it.
Who knew how much that would cost.
Through the smoke at the rim of the breach, a not-so-tall figure in a chef's coat could be seen flung back by the shockwave.
Baratie's head chef—Red-Leg Zeff.
To pirates, "How about a little cannon fire today?" was business as usual.
But Zeff hadn't been a pirate in years.
"Who the hell?!" Anyone would feel wronged by disaster from nowhere.
[ Warning: Half of Crew Day remains. Begin recruiting a crewmate. ]
By the time the countdown sounded, the staff had hauled Luffy before Zeff.
"I said I'm fine. Get back to work. Keep an eye on that idiot Sanji—who knows what'll happen if I'm not there…"
Luffy met the voice's owner.
A rough-faced man in his forties or fifties—clearly no saint in his youth. Luffy almost thought he'd run into one of his own.
"Old man, are you a pirate?" Luffy asked.
"Hm? That was when I was young. Not important. Let's talk compensation." Zeff sat, arms folded, propping up the leg missing a foot.
"Your leg—did it break?" Luffy gaped. "You trying to scam me?"
"Old injury. I'm not billing you for that," Zeff said, forcing himself to follow Luffy's logic. Shouldn't a normal person be looking at the rest of his injuries? What was so interesting about the leg?
"Oh. Then I'll go."
"What?"
"You said you're not charging me," Luffy added. "Besides, I don't have money."
"...You little brat, you dare say that?" Zeff actually laughed in anger.
Luffy's brand was honesty—he really was broke. Finally noticing the chef's coat, and with half of Crew Day ticking away, he clapped as a two-birds idea struck.
"Old man, come be the cook on my ship!"
No payout and he'd recruit a cook—Luffy had never felt so clever.
"Bold of you." Zeff snorted. "What do you think you are, some famous pirate? Name."
"I'm Monkey D. Luffy—the man who'll become the Pirate King!"
"Ha-ha-ha!" Zeff burst out laughing. "Do pirates all dream that unreal these days?"
"Without dreams you're just a salted fish. Old man, mocking another's dream is rude."
Luffy's fist cracked tight.
People's dreams don't stop.
For a moment the youth's fire showed Zeff the man he'd been. Then the picture shifted to a blond kid talking about his own dream.
Those two would have a lot to say to each other.
"Fine. I apologize," Zeff said, conceding Luffy.
"Then I'll be going!" Luffy tried to slip away.
"Recognizing you isn't the same as waiving the bill. No money? Work it off washing dishes on my ship."
…
Inside Baratie.
Nami and the others sat by a window. Almost as soon as they ordered, fragrant dishes began to land on the table.
Whatever else, Baratie had speed and efficiency.
Seafood rice, a massive steak, perfectly grilled sea fish, and rich soup quickly filled the spread.
"Amazing—so this is a sea restaurant!"
Drooling, Usopp couldn't wait.
"Hey, Usopp! Don't be so uncouth!"
Nami scolded, but her fork darted at a delicate, delicious-looking pudding.
Out here, you might go ten days or half a month without food like this.
Zoro took a long pull of beer, satisfied, then cut into his thick steak.
Something struck him, and he muttered, "Did we forget something?"
Forget what?
Maybe they'd forgotten the captain.
They traded a look—then tacitly dropped it.
A commotion rose at the far end of the room.
A blond, curly-browed young cook set a lady's plate down with elegant grace—elegance that irked the lady's date. Fullbody even checked to see if he was wearing green.
"Hey! Curlybrow waiter—where's my fish? Quit dawdling! I've got pirates to catch after I eat!"
"I'm not a waiter. The waiters ran off. I'm the sous-chef."
…
"Looks like that Marine's picking a fight," Usopp said, glancing up.
"Anyone trying to wreck our ship, keep eyes on him," Zoro said. "When we're done, find Luffy. See if the captain wants a war."
The ruckus brought Zeff over.
"Everyone here is a guest. Don't cause trouble in my restaurant, you damn Sanji," Zeff barked, scolding Sanji and smothering the sparks.
"Marines—always throwing their weight around," Zoro hummed under his breath, clearly disgusted by Fullbody.
"Let's just enjoy the food," Nami said, worried things would spiral, and hurried them back to eating.