The Krieg Pirates' Notoriety

The restaurant's many patrons couldn't help but burst into laughter. Even Harpody's female companion across from him couldn't help but cover her mouth, her shoulders trembling slightly.

To Harpody, who was extremely prideful, this laughter was no different from the loudest slap in the face.

His face instantly turned a liverish color, veins bulging on his forehead. The flames of shame and rage completely consumed his reason.

"Bastard! What kind of joke is this!!"

"Bang--!!"

Harpody abruptly stood up and slammed a powerful fist onto the dining table!

This punch, fueled by anger, instantly pulverized the solid wood table.

Exquisite porcelain plates shattered on the floor. The soup, painstakingly simmered for countless hours, and the meticulously cooked steak, along with red wine, spilled all over the carpet, creating a mess.

The surrounding laughter ceased abruptly, and the patrons stared at the scene in horror.

However, Sanji, at the center of the storm, didn't even bat an eyelid.

He slowly crouched down, his long fingers gently dipping into the spilled soup on the floor. He brought it to his nose to smell, then tasted it.

His gaze changed.

The carefree, roguish air he had before vanished, replaced by a chilling coldness that made one's heart palpitate. It was the ultimate rage of a chef whose food had been defiled.

"If you remove that bug, wouldn't it be drinkable?"

Sanji's voice was low and hoarse, carrying a suppressed fury. "This is... a soup made after three days and three nights of meticulously removing its bitterness."

"Shut up!"

Seeing that Sanji dared to talk back, Harpody's rage intensified.

He lifted his foot, clad in a leather boot, and stomped down hard on Sanji's hand lying on the floor!

He even ground his heel into it!

"Isn't your attitude a bit too arrogant, waiter!"

Harpody roared from above, his face contorted with a cruel delight. "I'm a customer! A paying customer! The customer is God, don't you understand!"

An ordinary person, with their hand trampled like this, would have long since screamed for mercy.

But Sanji just quietly looked at the wasted food on the floor, letting his hand be stepped on as if he felt no pain.

He slowly raised his head. His exposed right eye stared coldly at Harpody and asked the creed that would define his life:

"Can... money fill your stomach?"

This question stunned Harpody. "Wh-what?"

Sanji suddenly stood up. The hand being stepped on instantly clamped onto Harpody's ankle like a vise!

"I'll ask you one more time..."

Sanji's voice was like a cold wind from hell:

"Can money fill your stomach?!"

"Swish--!!"

Before he finished speaking, Sanji moved.

He didn't push with his hands. Instead, using his left foot as an axis, his entire body spun like a top. His right leg transformed into a black lightning bolt, whistling through the air, and from bottom to top, it fiercely struck Harpody's jaw!

"Bang!!"

A sickening crunch of bone and flesh echoed.

Harpody's tall body was like he had been hit by a speeding truck. He flipped twice in the air before crashing heavily onto the ceiling, then fell to the ground like a dead dog.

"Ptooey--!"

Two streams of bright red blood spurted from Harpody's nostrils. His eyes rolled back, and before he could even scream, he had already fainted.

The entire place fell silent.

Everyone stared at the scene, dumbfounded.

No one had expected that this seemingly refined waiter could instantly defeat a Navy Captain with a single kick!

Sanji straightened his slightly messy suit tie and walked with elegant steps to the unconscious Harpody.

He grabbed Harpody by the collar with one hand and lifted him up as if carrying trash.

Sanji took a cigarette from his pocket, put it in his mouth, and lit it with a "snap."

Taking a deep drag, amidst the swirling smoke, his cold voice echoed in the dead silent restaurant:

"On this sea... it's better to offend a Navy Admiral than a chef."

"Because--"

Sanji's eyes were icy:

"To oppose a chef at sea is to court death! Remember that!"

Sea Restaurant Baratie, Main Dining Hall.

Afternoon sunlight streamed through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, making the deep red carpet appear exceptionally vibrant.

The air, which had originally been filled with the aroma of red wine and steak, was now enveloped in a subtle, suffocating silence following the Navy Captain Harpody being kicked unconscious.

Luffy, however, was completely unfazed by the grim atmosphere.

He sat cross-legged in his chair, arms crossed, his gaze locked onto the blond chef who was lighting a cigarette. A wide grin spread across his face:

"I've found our cook."

"Huh?"

Zoro, who was about to retort, and Usopp, who was still trembling, froze simultaneously, their faces full of confusion.

Luffy pointed a finger directly at Sanji, who was exhaling a smoke ring with a cool expression not far away, his voice leaving no room for doubt:

"I'm going to make him our cook!"

Ronan picked up his teacup and took a gentle sip. He thought to himself:

As expected of Luffy, huh? That beast-like intuition saw right through Sanji's seemingly cold exterior to the desire for the sea and his dreams.

However, as the "voice of reason" in the crew, Ronan couldn't help but pour a bucket of cold water on the idea:

"Luffy, you can't expect a chef with a respectable job at a high-class restaurant like this to suddenly become a pirate whose future is uncertain. He might not agree."

"Heh heh!" Luffy adjusted his straw hat, his eyes sparkling with confidence.

"Then leave it to me! I'll get him on our ship! No one I've set my sights on can escape!"

Just then, the previously closed restaurant doors were violently pushed open.

A Navy soldier stumbled in, his cap askew and his face etched with terror.

Ignoring the astonished stares of the diners, he rushed to Harpody, who had just regained consciousness and was groaning while clutching his chin.

"Cap-Captain Harpody! N-No good!"

The soldier's voice cracked with fear, tinged with tears: "We... we let that prisoner from the Krieg Pirates escape!"

Harpody, enduring the intense pain, grabbed the soldier by his collar and roared in disbelief:

"What did you say?! He escaped?!"

"How is that possible! He was practically starving when we caught him three days ago!"

"We didn't even give him a drop of water for three days! Where did he get the strength to escape?!"

"Krieg... Pirates?!"

The phrase seemed to possess a certain magic, instantly detonating an invisible bomb in the spacious restaurant.

The patrons, who had been whispering amongst themselves, turned ashen-faced.

An elegant noblewoman fumbled and knocked over her wine glass, while gentlemen's forks clattered noisily onto their plates.

"Hey... did I hear that right? They said the Krieg bunch?"

"That pirate crew with fifty ships, the strongest pirate group in the East Blue, the 'Overlord of the East Blue'?!"

Fear spread like a plague.

In the East Blue, the name Krieg was synonymous with absolute violence and destruction.