Baratie's Top Secret Recipe

Flames soared into the sky outside the gates of the Baratie, the sea breeze carrying the pungent scent of charred debris.

The massive floating restaurant was plunged into a deathly silence. Whether they were the ferocious pirates or the merchants who prided themselves on their status, everyone huddled in the corners, faces pale, not daring to even draw a full breath.

Sabo sat back down across from Ace, glancing at his own palm with a gentle yet incredibly dangerous smile curling his lips.

"The destructive power of this Dragon Claw, combined with the explosive force of the flames, is indeed unexpectedly effective." Sabo turned his head toward Ace at the head of the table. "Captain, your suggestion back then was nothing short of perfect."

Ace swallowed a piece of exceptionally tender, specially grilled meat, a flash of hidden pleasure crossing his deep black eyes.

In this world, he alone knew the true origin of this Dragon Claw technique.

Four years ago, in the forests of Mt. Colubo, when Sabo was struggling with the limitations of his pipe's lethality and wanted to develop a hand-to-hand combat style of his own, the image of Sabo crushing a Vice Admiral's skull—a scene from the manga in his previous life—had surfaced naturally in Ace's mind.

Thus, Ace had solemnly proposed the martial arts concept of "imagining one's fingers as the claws of a dragon capable of crushing anything," and with a mischievous streak, he had even named it for him.

Ace had originally just thought the move looked cool and wanted to see its practical application. Who would have guessed that Sabo was a monster when it came to physical talent? He had not only perfectly grasped this superhuman technique but, combined with the Armament Haki honed through two years of hellish training, he had actually replicated this move from a past life right here in the East Blue!

"It's because your own foundation is solid enough."

Ace set down his juice and sliced off another piece of meat. "Without finger strength capable of crushing steel, this move would be nothing more than a flashy trick."

Just as they were finishing their meal, a sound echoed through the room.

Tap, tap, tap.

A heavy, rhythmic sound of a wooden peg hitting the floorboards came from the stairs leading to the second floor.

A tall old man with an exaggerated golden braided mustache and a thick wooden peg for his right leg walked down with a grave expression.

He was the owner and head chef of the floating restaurant, the man who had once ventured into the Grand Line: "Red Leg" Zeff.

Zeff's sharp eyes swept past the wreckage and locked onto Ace and Sabo sitting at the round table.

"Extremely refined Logia elementalization, and that technique capable of crushing refined steel."

Zeff took a deep drag of his cigar, his tone laced with rare trepidation and shock. "In a backwater place like the East Blue, known as the weakest sea, when did monsters like you, capable of standing tall in the New World, emerge?"

As a veteran pirate who had sailed the Grand Line for a full year, Zeff knew exactly what the power displayed by the man in the tuxedo during those ten seconds meant.

What was even more terrifying was that the black-haired man sitting at the head of the table like a demon god hadn't moved a single finger from start to finish. Yet, the pressure radiating unintentionally from him was enough to make Zeff, an aging beast, feel an instinctive heart-palpitation.

"Old man, put away your probing."

Ace picked up a napkin to wipe his hands and slowly stood up from his chair.

As he rose, a heavy, mountain-like pressure instantly enveloped the entire restaurant. Sanji, who had been feeling frustrated for failing to protect the lady, felt his pupils constrict under this absolute suppression of presence and physique; his legs felt as if they were filled with lead, unable to move.

"The food here is indeed good, and the control over nutrient loss has reached the limit of what the East Blue can offer."

Ace looked down at Zeff with absolute calm, cutting straight to the point. "I have no interest in hearing your clichés about the Grand Line. I came here for one thing."

"The core, top-secret recipes of the Baratie."

Ace's voice was not loud, but it was crystal clear in the deathly quiet restaurant.

"Including how to quickly process large Sea Kings, and the special cooking methods that maximize the retention of high calories and nutrients. Hand them over."

"What kind of joke are you making!"

Patty, a hot-headed chef nearby, couldn't help but roar, "Recipes are the soul of a chef! Who do you think you are?"

Bang!

Before Patty could finish his sentence, Zeff decisively kicked him flying.

Zeff looked at Ace with extreme composure. He knew all too well that in the face of absolute violence, any so-called chef's dignity was merely a figment of the weak. If it hadn't been for the man's subordinate intervening earlier, the Baratie would have already been smashed by that arrogant royal from the allied kingdom.

And now, if he dared to refuse, this monster before him definitely had the ability to send this floating restaurant to the bottom of the sea within ten seconds.

"I can hand over the recipes."

Zeff exhaled a cloud of smoke, his eyes fixed on Ace with a complex expression. "But that is the lifeblood of all our chefs here at the Baratie. Surely, Your Excellency wouldn't take the belongings of us cooks for nothing?"

"Of course not. The Eclipse Pirates never owe anyone."

Ace didn't speak, but instead snapped his fingers with ease.

Carina, who had been sitting to the side quietly watching the show, understood immediately. She stood up gracefully, picked up a black briefcase beside her, walked over to Zeff, and opened it with a snap.

The blinding golden light and thick stacks of cash instantly dazzled the surrounding chefs.

"Here are five million Beli, plus five high-grade gold bars."

Carina curled her lips into a professional, fox-like smile. "This is to buy your recipes, and we won't open a shop in the East Blue to compete with you. I think that's enough, boss?"

Looking at the box of eye-watering wealth, Zeff fell silent.

He couldn't win in a fight, and the other party was strictly following the rules by offering a high price. This style of combining favors with force, possessing the aura of a criminal overlord, made Zeff deeply realize that the future of these young people would certainly not be limited to the first half of the Grand Line.

"Sanji."

Zeff turned around decisively and looked at the blonde youth who was still in shock. "Go to the safe in my office and bring down that black handwritten notebook."

"But, old man." Sanji gritted his teeth, his eyes filled with unwillingness.

"Go get it!" Zeff's voice rose sharply.

A few minutes later.

Carina tucked the black cookbook, which recorded the pinnacle of Baratie's culinary arts, into her bag with immense satisfaction and casually locked the briefcase.

"Pleasure doing business, Boss Zeff."

Ace kept his hands in his pockets, not sparing a single glance at anyone else in the restaurant, and turned to walk away with an incredibly steady gait.

"Hey!"

Just as Ace was about to step out the door, Sanji suddenly clenched his fists in extreme frustration and shouted at that broad back:

"Who the hell are you people?!"

Ace's footsteps faltered slightly.

He did not turn back. The sea breeze whipped his dark red trench coat, and his imposing silhouette framed by the shattered doorway appeared as insurmountable as a demon god.

"A bunch of madmen heading for Reverse Mountain to completely overturn the rules of this world."

The tone was incredibly indifferent, yet it carried a terrifying arrogance that made one's soul tremble.

Ace resumed his stride, leading Sabo and Carina as they walked out of Baratie with extreme composure and boarded the luxurious black speedboat that had cost eighty million.

"Weigh anchor, hoist the sails."

Ace stood at the bow, looking at Buggy, who had scurried over to stand beside him and was shouting obsequiously, and a joyful smile curled the corners of his lips.

The massive, pitch-black sails of the Eclipse billowed open with a roar.

Under the gaze of countless eyes filled with a mixture of awe and fear from the first-floor dining hall, the terrifying warship, shaped like a black blade, cleanly turned its bow, tore through the waves, and sailed toward the distant horizon with extreme arrogance.

Sanji stood before the broken glass door, watching the back of the Eclipse as it gradually vanished, his hand holding a cigarette trembling slightly.

Only today did he wake up to just how vast and terrifying this ocean truly was.