Demon Human Gin

"BANG--!!"

A piercing gunshot mercilessly shattered the last shred of order within the restaurant.

The Navy soldier who had been reporting let out a scream as a bloom of blood erupted from his back, and he collapsed heavily onto the floor.

The smell of gunpowder instantly mingled with the aroma of food, stimulating everyone's nerves.

All eyes turned in terror towards the entrance.

Standing there was a man like a walking corpse.

He wore a tattered gray jacket, and beneath his headscarf were deep-set eyes with heavy dark circles around them.

His lips were cracked and peeling, his cheeks sunken, and he was so thin a gust of wind could seemingly blow him over.

But the smoking handgun in his hand, and those eyes that, even in extreme weakness, still held a beast-like ferocity, made one dare not look directly.

Demon Human, Gin.

He dragged his heavy steps, shuffling into the restaurant one step at a time.

Each step felt like it was stepping on everyone's heartstrings.

"Thump."

He reached the dining table closest to the entrance and slumped into a chair, as if he had exhausted all his strength.

He slammed the muzzle of his gun onto the pristine white tablecloth, his voice hoarse as if being scraped on sandpaper:

"Anything is fine... Hurry... Serve the food..."

"Welcome--!! Sir!"

A booming, somewhat exaggerated voice rang out.

A chef, as burly as a gorilla, emerged from the kitchen.

He sported a comical mustache, hands on his hips, and a smile that was extremely professional yet carried a hint of roguish obsequiousness.

It was Patty, the violent chef Baratie was known for due to his "terrible service attitude."

"I'll say it again..." Gin's fingers weakly tightened on the trigger, his gaze unfocused yet fierce, "Hurry... Serve the food..."

Patty's smile widened. He leaned closer to Gin, rubbing his hands together and asking:

"Esteemed guest, you seem to be in a hurry. However, we have a rule here--no credit. May I ask, do you have money?"

"Money..."

Gin's hand trembled as he raised his handgun, the dark muzzle pointed at Patty's massive head, and gritted his teeth: "Do you want to eat... bullets?"

At this moment, Ronan keenly sensed that the aura around Patty had changed.

The pretense of being mercenary and obsequious instantly tore away, replaced by a ferocity honed on the battlefield.

"Oh? No money, is that it?"

Patty's voice suddenly turned cold, his smile vanishing without a trace.

"Then you're not a customer!!!"

"BOOM--!"

Patty wasted no words, not even giving Gin a chance to shoot.

His fist, as large as a cooking pot, whistled through the air as it descended from above, smashing heavily onto Gin's head!

This punch had no technique, only the pure, monstrous strength of a chef!

"Pffft!"

Gin, already weak from hunger, couldn't possibly withstand this blow!

He didn't even have time to scream. The entire person, along with the chair beneath him, was blasted flying, crashing heavily onto the floor, blood instantly dyeing the carpet red.

"So... so strong!" Usopp, terrified, shrunk under the table. "Is this really a chef?"

Zoro watched the scene with interest: "It seems the chefs in this establishment weren't exactly gentle souls in the past either."

Ronan nodded, thinking to himself: The chefs at Baratie were originally a gathering place for combat chefs who couldn't make it on the sea.

Under Zeff's leadership, they were not only skilled at cooking but also fighting was commonplace.

"If you can't pay for your meal, you're trash!"

Patty strode forward, grabbed the barely-alive Gin by the collar, and dragged him towards the entrance like a dead dog.

"Don't dirty our floor! Get out!"

"Bang!"

Gin was unceremoniously thrown out the door, landing on the cold deck.

The patrons in the restaurant applauded, believing it was only right to drive away this fierce Pirate.

However, behind the noisy crowd, Ronan caught a detail.

The blond chef who had been showing off moments ago—Sanji—silently glanced towards the door, then turned around without a word and walked towards the depths of the kitchen.

His retreating figure looked a bit desolate, yet carried a resolute determination.

"That's..."

Luffy clearly noticed it too. His eyes darted, and he immediately jumped up from his chair, quietly following.

"Hey, Luffy! Where are you going?" Usopp asked in a low voice.

Luffy didn't look back, lowering his voice but unable to hide his excitement, "I'm going to find us a cook!"

Watching Luffy disappear around the corner of the kitchen, Ronan understood.

He knew what was about to happen.

This was one of the most moving scenes from the early days of the Pirate King – the absolute justice of "giving food to the hungry."

"It seems Sanji went to cook for that Demon Human, Gin," Ronan mused inwardly.

On this sea where the strong preyed on the weak, Sanji's kindness seemed so out of place, yet so dazzling.

Ronan picked up his fork, speared a relatively intact piece of meat, and said to a slightly worried Zoro and Nami, "Let's continue eating. Don't worry, while Luffy might seem unreliable usually, he's terrifyingly accurate when it comes to judging people."

"Let's just wait and see if he can win over that cook."

Twenty minutes later.

Luffy returned to the dining table, puffing his cheeks indignantly.

The moment he saw that most of the plates on the table were empty, he panicked, pouncing over like a monkey protecting its food, "Ahhh! You guys are too sly! Hurry and leave some for me! That bone-in meat was mine!"

Ronan smiled and pushed a plate of fried rice, which he had deliberately saved, towards him. "Luffy, how did it go? Did you get him?"

Luffy stuffed food into his mouth frantically, his cheeks puffed out like a hamster's, and mumbled, "Mmm... He hasn't agreed yet... Gulp... But that curly-browed guy is a good person!"

"He cooked for that hungry Pirate! I like him even more! I'm definitely going to persuade him!"

"Cooked for a Pirate?" Nami sounded surprised. "Even though that Pirate had no money and held people at gunpoint?"

"That must be a chef's creed," Zoro said, taking a sip of wine, his gaze deep. "For a chef, feeding the hungry is more important than anything."

Just then, another commotion erupted from the restaurant's main hall.

Ronan looked up.

He saw Sanji, holding a bottle of red wine, elegantly weaving between the tables.

He approached a stylishly dressed young woman's table, poured her wine with fluid movements, a gentlemanly smile on his face, and uttered words of praise that made her heart flutter, causing the lady to cover her mouth and giggle.

"Tch, so he's a pervert," Zoro scoffed.