The grand dining hall buzzed with a sudden silence.
At this very moment
Most of the guests had put down their utensils.
Their attention was fixed on the scene unfolding: a heated argument between a server and a customer.
That server was none other than Sanji.
A lavishly dressed woman glanced around the room.
Noticing that all eyes were on her, she curled her lips in annoyance. Then, as if struck by inspiration, she abruptly tipped her half-eaten plate of fried rice onto the floor right in front of Sanji.
Sanji's eyes went wide.
The woman didn't stop there. She stepped on the fallen rice twice with the heel of her shoe, then smirked maliciously.
"Aren't you the one who can't stand people wasting food? Then why don't you eat it off the floor? I already paid for it, so think of it as a treat from me. Don't be shy."
"You-" Sanji trembled with fury.
"Oh my, what's wrong?" the woman said mockingly. "What, all talk and no guts? Telling others what to do when you can't do it yourself? How disappointing. Next time, don't demand from others what you can't do yourself."
Some of the onlookers burst out laughing.
A few frowned at her cruelty, but no one spoke up.
Sanji stared down at the trampled rice. His fists clenched and unclenched over and over again.
At last, he took a deep breath.
"If I eat the rice off the floor," he said, "you'll finish the rest of the food on your table."
The woman narrowed her eyes, grinding her heel into the rice once more.
"Sure," she sneered. "If you eat that dirty rice, I'll finish everything on my table."
"You said it."
Without hesitation, Sanji crouched down, scooped the soiled rice into his hands, and shoved it into his mouth.
"Mom, is that guy an idiot?" the woman's son pointed at Sanji with his spoon, bursting into laughter.
"Hahaha! He's really eating it! Off the floor! Is he a beggar? Hahaha!"
By now, murmurs filled the hall.
"What kind of person bullies a kid like that?"
"He actually ate it? I thought he was bluffing."
"Hey lady, he did what you said. Time for you to keep your word and eat the food on your table."
"Yeah, come on, dig in."
The woman grit her teeth, forced to listen to the rising chorus of criticism.
Reluctantly, she stood up, grabbed her son's plate, and stuffed the remaining fried rice into her mouth in a few large bites. Then she snatched her son's hand and stormed toward the exit, muttering under her breath,
"What a lousy restaurant. That brat you better watch your back!"
Meanwhile, Lucas Moore sat at his table, sipping from a gourd of wine and idly nibbling at a couple of side dishes, all the while observing the scene.
To most people, it might've seemed ridiculous overkill, even for Sanji to argue with a customer over something so trivial.
And eating food off the floor? It was unthinkable.
But to ignore it?
That would mean Sanji wasn't Sanji.
After all, the two things he couldn't stand were wasting food and hitting women.
So really, everything Sanji did was exactly what Lucas had expected.
At that moment
Paddy, carrying a large tray full of desserts, came smiling out of the kitchen. But the smile faded the instant he saw the mess near Sanji.
His face darkened.
He quickly delivered Garp's dessert, then strode over and grabbed Sanji by the collar, yanking him up.
The mother and son were already gone.
Though Paddy hadn't seen what exactly happened, the sight of the trampled fried rice and the grain stuck to the corner of Sanji's mouth told him all he needed to know.
"Let go of me, you bastard!" Sanji thrashed about.
At only nine years old, he was no match in strength or size for the burly Paddy.
No matter how he struggled, he couldn't break free from Paddy's grip.
With his free hand, Paddy smacked Sanji on the head.
"You little brat! You picked another fight with a customer, didn't you? Do you know how many guests we've lost because of you this month? Do you have any idea how much money you're costing us?!"
Sanji shouted back, "Money, money, money that's all you care about! Can money fill your stomach?!"
Paddy gave him another firm knock on the head. "What do you think a restaurant is for?! Without money, how the hell are we supposed to buy ingredients, huh? You idiot!"
Still scolding him, Paddy dragged Sanji toward the kitchen. "You good-for-nothing freeloader, go wash the damn dishes!"
"Buzz off! You lousy chef!"
"Oh yeah? And you want to become a lousy chef? You don't even qualify to insult me, brat!"
Lucas watched silently as Paddy hauled Sanji into the kitchen.
He had come to Baratie to complete a sign-in progress task.
But it was clear this ship was strictly a floating restaurant not a place for guests to stay overnight.
Unless... he got a job here.
Lucas immediately dismissed the thought.
Getting a job? Not in this lifetime.
There was one other option: talk to Zeff, the head chef and captain of Baratie.
Based on his experience back in Shimotsuki Village
That might just trigger his next sign-in task.
With that in mind, Lucas finished the last bite of food and drained the final drop of wine from his gourd.
Just as he stood up, ready to head upstairs and look for Zeff
A donut flew toward him.
Lucas twisted sideways and effortlessly caught it with one hand. Then he turned, expressionless, toward the thrower.
It was Garp.
"Hahaha!" Garp let out his trademark laugh. "Nice reflexes, kid. Ever thought about joining the Navy?"
…Huh?
Out of nowhere, the old man was recruiting him?
Seriously?
"No." Lucas flatly refused and tossed the donut back.
Garp caught it midair, took a bite, and grinned. "You know, wasting food is against the rules here at Baratie."
Lucas was speechless.
You're the one who threw it at me!
Still laughing, Garp added, "Don't rush your decision, kid. Think it over."
Despite his goofy manner, Garp was a Vice Admiral whose strength rivaled an Admiral's. And when it came to judging character, he had an uncanny instinct.
From the first moment he saw Lucas, he'd sensed that this quiet kid was something special.
One of the signs was the wine Lucas drank.
Though it didn't smell particularly strong, it carried the faint scent of cherry blossoms and other unique grains, blended in a way Garp recognized instantly.
It was the same brew made at Isshin Dojo in Shimotsuki Village.
Garp had visited there once on official duty and spent two nights at the dojo. Koushirou had shared a small amount of that special wine with him.
When Garp left, he even tried to beg Koushirou for a small jug of it but the swordsman had flat-out refused.
And now, this kid's gourd was full of it.
Which meant one thing:
Koushirou had a lot of faith in this boy.
Then there was the tiny sailboat docked outside Baratie.
Its design was unmistakably from Windmill Village.
Garp had recognized it immediately.
That's why he'd asked if Lucas had come here alone.
When Lucas confirmed it, Garp knew.
That boat was his.
And when he recalled his recent call with Shanks where the red-haired pirate mentioned meeting a kid who might one day shake the world
Garp was almost certain.
That kid was standing right in front of him.
---------------------------------------
Want more chapters?
Help us reach 50 Power Stones and an extra chapter will be released as a thank you for your support.
If you're enjoying the story and want to see more, consider leaving a review or comment. Your feedback means a lot and helps the story grow.
Thank you for reading and supporting!