Chapter 19: The Unique Charm of Hotpot
Mihawk sat with the stillness of a predator. His yellow eyes, the ones that earned him the moniker "Hawkeye," were extremely sharp and firm, just like a raptor scanning for prey. This was the rarest gaze for practitioners of the martial arts, especially swordsmen—a gaze that saw everything but revealed nothing.
Shanks grinned, slapping the table. "First, two pots of that previous wine—the Demon King's Shochu! And then... Boss! Do you have any spicier food? Something even stronger than that garlic pork belly I had before~ I want something that kicks like a mule!"
Ren thought for a moment after hearing Shanks' words. He tapped his chin, evaluating their request. Strong, spicy, communal...
He tilted his head and said, "Do you two want the same thing to share, or does Mr. Hawkeye have something else he'd like to order?"
Hawkeye pondered for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. "Give me beef. High quality. And the rest of the order is the same as his. If he wants spicy, I will not back down."
Ren nodded, then showed a strange, knowing smile. Beef, strong-flavored, spicy food, and something that goes perfectly with alcohol. Besides that dish, there shouldn't be anything else that fits the bill better.
"Understood. Coming right up."
Ren turned to the kitchen.
"I didn't expect you actually didn't lie to me," Mihawk said to Shanks, his voice low and resonant. "This place... the atmosphere is unique. It feels removed from the Grand Line entirely."
Shanks was stunned to hear Hawkeye's words, then laughed twice, pouring himself a glass of water. "What's the point of lying to you about something like this~ Good booze is meant to be shared! By the way, your strength seems to have improved again. Your aura is sharper. Want to go practice after this? I know a deserted island nearby."
"Not tonight. I'm here to drink, not to babysit you."
"Ouch! So cold!"
Just as they were bickering like old married couples, Ren returned.
He brought a portable gas stove and placed it in the center of the table. Then, he placed a strangely shaped pot on top of it. It was a split pot, shaped like a Yin-Yang symbol, though for now, only one side was filled.
Hawkeye and Shanks were seeing such a thing for the first time and were both stunned.
Shanks leaned forward, looking down into the pot. Inside, there was a visible layer of deep red oil that shimmered under the lights. Floating in it were countless dried chili peppers, Sichuan peppercorns, star anise, and other unidentifiable spices. It looked less like soup and more like liquid magma. The smell alone made one's mouth water involuntarily.
Shanks stirred it with chopsticks, frowning slightly. He looked up at Ren.
"Only soup?" he asked with a puzzled expression. "Where's the meat?"
Ren smiled and nodded.
Shanks asked again, poking the cold oil. "Cold? Are we supposed to drink this?"
Ren watched Shanks and Hawkeye staring blankly at each other, amused by their confusion. These were men who could split the sky with their swords, yet a hotpot stove baffled them.
He reached over and turned the dial on the stove.
Click. Whoosh.
Blue flames erupted beneath the pot.
Shanks and Hawkeye both flinched slightly, their hands twitching towards their weapons instinctively before relaxing. They were quite surprised because they had never seen such a compact fire device before.
Seeing their expressions, Ren immediately returned to the kitchen to fetch the rest.
This time, he came out pushing a multi-tiered dining cart. It was laden with plates upon plates of ingredients: thinly sliced marbled beef, fresh vegetables, various mushrooms, tofu, meatballs, and tripe.
He parked the cart next to their table.
"You might have something similar where you're from, but judging by your expressions, you probably haven't eaten it this way before. This is called Sichuan Hotpot (Ma La Huo Guo). It can satisfy all your requests for spice and flavor."
[Akarin's Note: Sichuan Hotpot is famous for its numbing and spicy flavor, combining Sichuan peppercorns (Mala) and chili oil.]
He gestured to the pot, which was beginning to bubble ominously.
"Just wait for the soup in the pot to boil, then put the ingredients in to cook yourselves. It's a communal meal."
Hawkeye stared at the bubbling red oil. "An interesting way to eat. Is it just boiling?"
"That's right. But timing is key. There are a few things that shouldn't be boiled for too long, like the Tripe and Duck Intestines. These only need to be blanched for a few seconds—'seven up, eight down'—before they're ready to eat. If you overcook them, they become rubber."
Ren placed two small bowls of dipping sauce in front of them.
"This is the sauce I've prepared for you—sesame oil, garlic, oyster sauce, and cilantro. It coats the food, cools it down slightly, and adds flavor. Just dip the cooked food in it before eating."
After saying that, Ren walked to the side and continued reading his fishing magazine, leaving them to their devices.
Hotpot is something that even the most oblivious person can learn how to eat intuitively. It appeals to the hunter-gatherer instinct. Cook what you kill (or order).
The next scene, if placed on the Grand Line, would be enough to scare many Marines to death.
Because at this moment, Red-Haired Shanks (one of the Four Emperors) and Dracule Mihawk (the World's Strongest Swordsman) were both staring intently at a pot, their Haki flaring slightly as they waited for the soup to boil.
Ren smiled and shook his head after a glance. They look like kids waiting for candy.
"It's boiling," Mihawk stated, his eyes narrowing.
"I see it!" Shanks cheered. He grabbed a plate of beef. "In it goes!"
He dumped the entire plate into the bubbling red inferno.
"Idiot," Mihawk muttered. "You'll overcook it."
Ren was reading when he suddenly heard a low voice.
"Hmm? What is this… sensation?"
He looked up and saw Hawkeye looking at the hot pot with a stunned expression. He had just eaten a piece of beef. A touch of red oil on his lips proved the deed.
Shanks, on the other side, also fished out a piece of beef from the pot. He blew on it hastily and, with a hint of anticipation, took a bite.
Chew.
The tender texture of the beef combined with the rich, violent spicy flavor exploded in his mouth.
Hot. Spicy. Fresh. Lively. Tender. Numb. Fragrant.
The seven sensations of Sichuan cuisine instantly assaulted the brain of this peak figure who dominated the seas. The Sichuan Peppercorns numbed his tongue, while the chilies set it on fire. It was a battle in his mouth.
"Hah!" Shanks exhaled, his eyes watering. "This is… amazing!"
While the two were still in a daze from the first impact, Ren walked over. He placed two large, frosted glass steins on the table. Condensation dripped down the sides.
"This is the perfect accompaniment! Iced Draft Beer. Please enjoy!"
Shanks' eyes lit up. He grabbed the mug. "Cheers!"
Mihawk clinked his glass against Shanks'.
Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.
"Aaaah!" Shanks slammed the empty mug down. "That hits the spot! The cold beer cuts the spice perfectly!"
They continued eating.
Their movements became increasingly skilled. They learned the rhythm of the pot. Sweat slowly appeared on their foreheads, glistening in the light.
Hawkeye even took off his wide-brimmed hat, placing it carefully on an empty chair. Shanks also took off his coat, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt to his elbows to feast properly.
"Ha! Phew…"
Shanks seemed to have accidentally eaten a whole chili pepper disguised as a piece of meat. His face turned beet red instantly.
"Water! No, beer!"
Ren knew they were not ordinary people with ordinary constitutions, so naturally, the chilies he used weren't ordinary either. They were Ghost Peppers (System-enhanced version).
[Akarin's Note: Ghost Pepper (Bhut Jolokia) is one of the hottest peppers in the world, significantly spicier than standard chilies.]
Shanks looked at the untouched hard liquor (Shochu) he had ordered at the beginning. In his panic, without thinking, he grabbed the flask and took a swig.
Mistake.
High-proof alcohol + Spicy food = Fire.
"Gah!"
He immediately put the flask on the table and covered his mouth, letting out a strangled cry. Tears streamed down his face.
Hawkeye, seeing his old friend suffering, laughed—a rare, deep sound. "Pathetic."
But then, he inhaled at the wrong moment while swallowing a piece of spicy tripe.
Cough! Cough!
He choked.
One must know the feeling of choking on spicy oil fumes—one word: Exhilarating (and painful).
Ren said nothing. He put down his book, propped his head on his hand, and watched these two legendary figures struggling against vegetables.
He found it much more interesting than reading a magazine. Even the strongest fall before the Ghost Pepper.
Finally, Shanks recovered enough to grab the pitcher of iced beer Ren had refilled. He took a massive gulp.
Half a glass of beer went straight down.
Shanks slumped into the chair like a salted fish, mouth open, drenched in sweat, his lips visibly swollen a little.
"I feel… alive!" he panted.
Hawkeye was the same, but he still maintained his composure, wiping his mouth with a napkin. His face was red from choking, and he propped one arm on the table, also sweating profusely. He looked as if he was questioning his life choices, but his chopsticks were already reaching for more meat.
"Hahaha! You're getting your comeuppance today, Hawkeye!" Shanks pointed a trembling finger at him. "You look like a boiled lobster!"
Perhaps it was the communal atmosphere of the hot pot or the fact that they had just witnessed each other's embarrassment, but Hawkeye also differed from his usual stoic demeanor.
He smirked. "You're no different, Red Hair. You're crying."
"It's sweat from my eyes! Keep it coming! Boss! This beer is too good! Give us… two more pitchers! And more meat!"
Ren nodded, suppressing a laugh. "Coming up."
He watched the two burly uncles tease each other and eat hot pot like teenagers.
Ren couldn't help but think, This is the charm of hot pot!
There's nothing fancy about it. Just a soup base, fresh ingredients, and fire. But it forces you to sit together, cook together, and share the same pot. It breaks down barriers.
In your leisure time, a glass of iced beer—there's no freer dish than this. And there's no dish that can bring friends closer and create a lively atmosphere better than this.
After three rounds of drinks...
Their alcohol tolerance was frighteningly good. Including the extra pitchers, they had each drunk about five liters of beer.
Since beer mostly fills the stomach and doesn't get people like them very drunk, neither of them showed any signs of intoxication, but they felt significantly more relaxed and comfortable.
Finally, the cart was empty.
Except for one last piece of premium Shimofuri Beef floating in the red oil.
Both of them paused simultaneously. Their chopsticks froze over the pot.
Their gazes sharpened. The air pressure in the room dropped again. Haki sparked.
"Hawkeye!" Shanks grinned, his eyes dangerous. "Isn't your appetite usually small? You should watch your figure."
"Didn't you also drink a lot of beer?" Mihawk retorted, his hand hovering. "Doesn't it bloat you? You're getting old, Shanks."
Zip!
The two chopsticks moved at supersonic speeds. They clashed in mid-air over the pot.
Clack!
The two struggled and snatched at the meat, their utensils locking in a test of strength that would shatter normal wood. They were nearly drawing their swords to settle it.
Of course, this was a joke. Mostly.
In the end, with their terrifying precision, they simultaneously exerted force.
Rip.
The beef tore perfectly down the middle. They each got half.
Thus avoiding a battle that would destroy the shop.
"Phew~ Tsk… That was great! As expected, Boss, your dishes are the most satisfying to finish!" Shanks burped, patting his stomach.
"Extremely delicious food," Mihawk agreed, leaning back. "It clears the sinuses."
Hawkeye also rarely gave a compliment.
Ren smiled and nodded as he cleared the table. "It's our dish! I only provided the soup base and ingredients; as for truly turning them into delicious, edible food, that's you two! You cooked it."
The two paused, considering this philosophy. Then both smiled.
Ren suddenly froze. He stood up and returned to the kitchen.
Then, under their questioning gazes, he placed a small plate of Iced Bayberries (Yangmei) in front of them. The dark red fruit was covered in a light frost.
Ren smiled as he said, "Let's have a perfect finish! The tartness will cleanse your palate. It's also time to drink the Demon King's Shochu you ordered at the beginning. It pairs well with fruit."
[Akarin Note:
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