Pirates: Invincible from the Start

Ahua might have been a slacker, but he took the profession of cooking seriously.

"No problem, sir! The customer is God. Forget having the head chef cook for you—I'd even dance for you!"

"It's just... it's just..."

Kuta smiled at Patty, who stood beside them rubbing his hands together, his face full of flattery.

The guy looked fierce, but the way he acted was almost a little cute.

Kuta asked with a laugh, "It'll cost extra, right?"

"That's right!"

Patty wasn't embarrassed in the slightest. A head chef's cooking naturally cost more than an ordinary cook's.

And as for his own service fee, the more the better!

"All right, all right. Bring us one of everything your restaurant does best today."

Kuta waved at him, displaying hands covered in gold rings.

He'd picked up all those things aboard Krieg's ship. Besides the rings, he had several thick gold chains around his neck.

He'd even had Ahua and the other two put on matching rings and necklaces.

Why else did you

think Patty was being so enthusiastic?

"Understood, sir! I'll get the head chef to cook for you right away."

To Patty, the customer was God, and a wealthy customer was God's God.

These guests looked like they had money to burn, with the air of nouveau riche about them. He'd give them ten thousand percent of his enthusiasm and earn as many Beli from their pockets as he could.

"Tch. They're just a bunch of nouveau riche."

The marines at the next table had had enough. The big guy certainly hadn't treated them like that.

"Didn't you say the customer is God? You're treating some gods differently from others."

"Please wait a moment, gentlemen. I'll take care of this and be right back."

Patty turned around and straightened up at once. The smile vanished from his face.

He walked slowly over to the marines, pulled his lips into a professional, false smile, and spoke evenly.

"Please keep your voices down, gentlemen. You're disturbing my valued guests."

Customers had their own ranks, and in his mind, these marines were typical paupers. He didn't care who they were. There were only three kinds of people in his eyes.

First came people with no money at all. They couldn't even afford a meal, and he disliked them most.

Second came the poor. They could afford a meal, but only plain bread and fish soup. He'd serve them, but he wouldn't be especially warm about it.

Third came the rich. They could eat whatever they wanted. Those people were God in his eyes.

Actually, there was one more kind: people like Kuta and his companions. They were Gods among Gods.

"Could you make your attitude any more obvious?"

"Is it?"

Patty's reply was perfunctory.

"Of course it is! Anyone can tell that smile you gave us was fake. Now you look downright impatient."

"What, are we that unwelcome?"

"Oh! Do I?"

Patty stretched his lips wider and gave them a smile uglier than a grimace.

"Are you gentlemen satisfied now?"

"Like hell we are! You're even less sincere than before!"

The marines all stood up and roared at Patty.

Patty dropped his smile. A fierce look crossed his face as he spoke again.

"Gentlemen, could you please keep your voices down?"

He used to be a pirate. He wasn't about to indulge a few marines, especially marines without money.

"What? Are you going to hit us?"

Seeing Patty glare at them, the marines shouted even louder.

What was this? Did their guns no longer work? Did their uniforms mean nothing? Now even a waiter dared show them hostility.

They knew nothing of Patty's past. Back then, he'd been a nobody pirate without so much as a bounty.

Red-Leg Zeff

The commotion drew the attention of everyone in the restaurant.

It also brought Zeff down from upstairs and Sanji out of the kitchen.

"That's enough, Patty. Are you trying to wreck the restaurant's tables and chairs again?"

A deep, aged voice came from upstairs, drawing every eye.

An old man came down the stairs.

He wore chef's whites and an exceptionally tall chef's hat. His blond mustache was braided into two long plaits that hung on either side of his mouth.

A wooden prosthesis replaced his right leg, thudding against the floorboards as he walked. "Thud, thud, thud..."

The marines who had been making such a racket fell silent at the sight of him. They weren't afraid of that Popeye-looking fellow, but they were afraid of this old man.

Ordinary people might not know his past, but they were marines. Of course they knew.

More than a decade ago, the old man had been captain of the Cook Pirates, famous throughout the East Blue.

Legend had it that his kicking techniques were extraordinary. He kicked his opponents until blood sprayed everywhere, staining his own foot red. That was how he'd earned the name Red-Leg Zeff.

He might no longer be a pirate, but his reputation still held. Who knew if he might suddenly lose his temper and kick them?

When Zeff reached the marines, he first gave Patty a kick with his prosthetic leg. "What are you standing around for? Go prepare the ingredients. Making guests wait this long is rude."

Patty pursed his lips. He clearly wasn't afraid of Zeff.

He turned and hurried back to Kuta's table.

The moment he reached Kuta, his fierce expression transformed. A smile spread across his face like a blooming flower.

He bent at the waist, rubbing his hands beside his head, and asked ingratiatingly,

"Anything else I can do for you, sir?"

Everyone in the restaurant stood speechless, their mouths twitching.

Could he be any more obvious?

Kuta's own mouth twitched as he stared at Patty. This guy was really something else.

"Don't get so close. I can see your long nose hairs. Disgusting. Go make the food already."

"Understood, sir. Your wish is my command."

Patty backed away a few steps, then turned. His bent back straightened, his smile vanished, and he strode into the kitchen.

With nothing more to watch, the other customers gradually returned to what they'd been doing.

"That's it?"

Some of them had come specifically to watch a fight after hearing that the cooks here liked brawling with pirates and customers alike.

Zeff looked at the marines standing stiffly before him and spoke calmly.

"Go get your Navigator, Laster, and bring him in for a meal. We're old friends. He's usually the first one through the door whenever you come here."

"Oh, right. I haven't seen you before. Are you new aboard?"

"Yes, Mr. Zeff."

One marine watched Zeff cautiously. "If there's nothing else, Mr. Zeff, we'll go fetch our Navigator."

"Go on, then."

Zeff waved them

away.

The marines breathed a sigh of relief and hurried out of the restaurant.

Kuta watched Zeff settle the whole matter with ease.

"Wow! You really live up to your title. How imposing!"

"Sir, I'm hardly imposing. I'm just an ordinary restaurant owner."

Zeff walked over to Kuta's table and stood beside him, his expression calm.

"Well, whoever you are, could you hurry up and cook?"

Kuta shrugged.

"Of course, sir. Please be patient. Even the quickest meal takes time to prepare."

Slap!

Kuta pulled a stack of Beli from his clothes and tossed it casually onto the table.

"How about now?"

Zeff's mouth twitched. He felt as though Kuta was insulting him.

"Sir, it'll still take at least half an hour."

"How about now?"

Slap!

The same move. The same amount of money.

A smile slowly crept across Zeff's composed face, and he bent a little at the waist.

If this was an insult, he wouldn't mind a lot more of it.

"Sir, I can bring it down to twenty minutes, but no less. Any faster and these old bones of mine will fall apart."

Slap!

This time, Kuta dropped a huge pile of Beli—at least seven or eight stacks.

"And now?"

Kuta watched Zeff's expression change and grinned even wider.

There was something deeply satisfying about throwing money around.

Besides, he'd just picked it all up.

Yes, picked it up. There were plenty of pirates at sea waiting for him to collect their money.

From the moment he'd set sail, he was no longer the man who'd had to borrow money just to build a ship.

From now on, they could call him Kuta... the richest man alive.

He'd already claimed all the Beli aboard every pirate ship he had yet to encounter.

Zeff stared at the money on the table, his composure finally gone. He bent at the waist, forced a stiff smile onto his face, and rubbed his hands as he looked at Kuta.

"Sir, I promise you: five minutes. I'll have your food ready in five minutes."

It wasn't that he had no principles. The man across from him was simply offering far too much.

Seeing Zeff act just like Patty had a moment ago, Kuta burst out laughing.

"Hahaha...!"

Ahua and the other two, who had watched the whole exchange, laughed along with him.

They'd been holding it in for ages.