Sanji's Dream

The next day, at the Sea Restaurant Baratie.

The shadow of the Krieg Pirates had already dispersed, and the sea had returned to its usual azure tranquility.

Seagulls circled above the mast tops, letting out crisp cries.

However, the Merry's departure was delayed.

Inside the restaurant's spacious living room, Ronan, Zoro, Nami, and Usopp sat around, bored.

Usopp slumped onto the table, poking at the ice cubes in his cup with his finger, and sighed, "When are we actually setting sail? Is that chef really going to come with us?"

Ronan leaned by the window, gazing at the sparkling sea outside, a confident smile curving his lips. "Don't rush. Once Luffy sorts out Sanji, we can set sail. Some knots in the heart can only be untied with a 'special' method."

The rooftop of the Baratie.

The sea breeze howled, making the ends of their clothes flutter.

Sanji leaned on the white wooden railing, a lit cigarette held between his fingers. Amidst the swirling smoke, his eyes held a deep longing, yet it was suppressed by a heavier sense of responsibility. "I can't leave..." Sanji looked towards the horizon where the sea met the sky, his voice low and hoarse. "None of the guys here can be relied on. If I leave, what will happen to that old man..." "But I'll go there someday too! To the Grand Line." Luffy, sitting cross-legged on the railing beside him, pulled down his straw hat and said with an excited, matter-of-fact tone, "Then let's go now! If you want to go, why wait?" "It's not time yet!" Sanji irritably extinguished his cigarette butt. He suddenly turned his head, his deep eyes seeming to burn with two flames. He looked at Luffy and his tone became unusually solemn. "Hey, do you know about the All Blue?" Luffy tilted his head, looking blank. "All Blue? What's that? Is it delicious?" "What, you don't know? That's the sea of miracles!" Mentioning the name, Sanji's entire being seemed to radiate with a different kind of spirit. "In that sea, all the fish from the East Blue, West Blue, North Blue, and South Blue—all four seas—gather!" Sanji gestured with his hands in the air, as if that dreamlike ocean was right before his eyes. "For us chefs, it's like paradise! A dreamland!" "It's in the Grand Line! How about that, isn't it amazing?" Luffy looked at the animated Sanji. Although he didn't understand the names of the fish, he understood that look in his eyes—it was the same look he had when he wanted to become the Pirate King. And directly above them, in the shadow of the roof shaped like a giant fish fin. "Red-Foot" Zeff stood with his arms crossed, quietly listening to the grand pronouncements of the "foolish son" below. The sea breeze ruffled his braided beard, and on his usually stern and hard face, a complex smile appeared. "Seeing him so happy... what a fool."

Lunchtime, the restaurant's main hall.

The bell rang, signaling mealtime for the chefs. "Want to eat together?" Sanji, back to his usual self, called out to Luffy. "Really? More delicious food!" Luffy immediately followed. However, as he entered the hall, the atmosphere was eerily quiet. All the chefs were gathered around a long table. The moment they saw Sanji enter, the previously noisy chatter instantly ceased. Everyone wore a stern face, as if they were owed millions of Belly. "Hey, where do we sit?" Sanji asked casually, not noticing anything amiss. A chef gnawing on bread said coldly without looking up, "There's no seat for you!" Another chef pointed directly at the floor. "If you want to eat, eat on the floor!" Sanji froze, his brow furrowing instantly. "No seat for me? What kind of joke is this! How is that possible!" Just then, Patty, who usually clashed with Sanji the most but also argued with him the most, stood up. He walked over to the soup pot, ladled a bowl, and took a sip.

"Pfft—!!"

Patty spat out the soup in his mouth with extreme exaggeration, shouting in disgust, "Who made this morning's soup?!"

Sanji immediately waved his hand and shouted, "It was me, it was me! It tastes great, right! I specifically got up early today and used the best ingredients to make this special delicacy!"

"Delicacy?"

Patty slammed the bowl heavily on the table, spat twice, and wiped his mouth, saying, "Who could drink something this awful! It's practically pig slop!"

"What did you say?!"

Veins bulged on Sanji's forehead. He rushed to Patty's side in a few steps and roared, "Human food doesn't suit your taste?! You big gorilla with a dead taste bud!"

Patty wasn't about to back down, glaring with his bull-like eyes and shouting back, "Making something this bad is an art form in itself! I'm about to puke!!"

Sanji trembled with rage. He approached Patty step by step, his eyes cold:

"Excuse me, today's soup is my specialty, and there's absolutely no problem with it! Your rotten tongue is the problem!"

However, to his surprise, the other chefs around him also put down their spoons and started to chime in.

"It really is awful!"

"I can't drink it! This isn't meant for humans!"

"Too salty! It's like drinking seawater!"

"This soup is so terrible, let's just throw it away!"

The harsh criticisms poured in like a tide.

These companions, who usually bickered but were generally harmonious, now looked ferocious, as if Sanji had committed some heinous crime.

Sanji stood in the center of the hall, looking around, his eyes filled with disbelief and anger:

"You... What do you guys want!!"

Patty sneered, revealing his true intentions, "You're just a fake vice chef anyway, just a old bird clinging to this place! We've had enough of you!"

"What did you say?!"

Just as Sanji was on the verge of exploding, a stern figure walked over.

Zeff was holding a bowl of soup and took a sip expressionlessly.

However—

"Smash—!!"

Zeff expressionlessly slammed the finished bowl onto the ground, shards scattering everywhere.

"What is this mud-like, awful soup!"

Zeff's voice was chillingly cold, devoid of any emotion:

"If you serve this to customers, the restaurant will go bankrupt!!"

This statement shattered Sanji's defenses completely.

He could tolerate Patty's mockery, he could endure the other chefs' ostracism, but he couldn't bear Zeff negating his cooking—the cooking Zeff had taught him!

"Don't mess with me! You old geezer!"

Sanji lunged forward, grabbed Zeff's collar tightly, his eyes bloodshot, his voice hoarse:

"What's the difference between this and the soup you make! It tastes exactly the same!!"