OPTC Chapter 302: The Little Flirt
"Please enjoy your meal."
Young Sanji placed one hand before him, the other behind his back, bowing slightly in a gentleman's salute. He looked proper and well-mannered for about three seconds—until he lifted his head and saw Artoria and Rui Meng Meng.
The hearts in his eyes popped up almost instantly.
"Wh-what breathtaking beauty!"
Perhaps it was because he was still young, but Sanji's vocabulary was too limited to fully express himself. His flirting skills clearly hadn't developed yet—he could only offer that awkward compliment before falling silent.
"Thank you." Artoria replied politely, then turned her attention back to her meal. Compared to some kid, the food on the table was far more interesting.
Rui Meng Meng wasn't used to such direct compliments. Even though it came from a little boy, it still made her a bit flustered.
Ye Yan shook his head, looking mildly disgusted. "Kids these days mature too early."
"Yohohoho~" Brook chuckled approvingly. "This young man will definitely become quite the gentleman in the future."
"Gentleman? More like a pervert." Zhang Da Ye waved a hand in front of Sanji's face, but the boy didn't react—his eyes were still glued to Artoria eating.
Rui Meng Meng crossed her arms. "This is so awkward… how can anyone eat when someone keeps staring like that?"
"Mm?" Artoria, cheeks stuffed with food, made a questioning sound, completely unfazed.
Tom was the same—utterly unbothered by others' gazes as he shoveled food into his mouth. Since Zhang Da Ye forbade him from eating with his hands, Tom had mastered the art of wielding two pairs of chopsticks at once, stuffing food in with both hands.
"Reminds me of Lucy's Celestial Spirit—Leo, the Lion," Carla commented. "Honestly, he's still just a kid."
Wendy nodded in agreement. "He's definitely going to grow up like Leo—a shameless flirt."
Perona giggled mischievously. "If that bothers you, I can fix it for you! Negative Ghosts!"
Young Sanji instantly collapsed. "I... I'm not even as good as a sardine…"
Zhang Da Ye didn't stop her—this kid could probably take the hit. He even wondered if he should get Usopp next, to help Perona farm a few achievements. Kid Usopp shouldn't be as gloomy as his future self, right?
Shark Chili sighed sympathetically. "Don't you think that's a little too harsh?"
"He was the one being rude first," Perona pouted.
"What just happened?" Sanji blinked in confusion as he stood up again. It felt like he had just said something extremely embarrassing in front of a beautiful woman.
"Hey, kid! You're too slow!"
A man with an absurdly tall chef's hat pushed out a food cart from the kitchen.
It was Zeff, the restaurant's owner and head chef. Since Sanji had taken too long to serve the dishes, Zeff had to come out himself.
The moment he saw Artoria and Rui Meng Meng, Zeff immediately understood why Sanji had been delayed. Stroking his braided mustache, he scolded, "Don't bother the lady guests, brat!"
"I wasn't, you old geezer!" Sanji shouted back out of habit.
"Then hurry back to the kitchen!" Zeff tapped the boy's head with the wooden peg of his prosthetic leg.
Sanji fell silent and pushed the cart back into the kitchen. That leg was something he would never talk back to.
In the manga, Sanji and Zeff were stranded on a deserted island for eighty-five days. Zeff gave Sanji all the food and, in desperation, ate his own leg to survive.
In the anime, it was toned down: Zeff's leg got trapped underwater, and he severed it with a chain to save Sanji.
Either way, Zeff sacrificed his leg for Sanji. Believing himself to be the reason Zeff lost everything, Sanji swore to repay him—even if that meant giving up his dream of finding the All Blue.
"My apologies for the trouble," Zeff said courteously, placing the new dishes on the table and clearing the empty plates.
He didn't seem too shocked by the bizarre crew or their inhuman eating speed. Having once sailed the Grand Line, he had seen stranger things.
Recognizing the Amber Travel Group from their features, Zeff said nothing more. Whoever they were, guests were guests—and he was just a chef.
After he left, Shark Chili muttered quietly, "That man used to be a pirate—captain of the Cook Pirates. Red-Leg Zeff. He was active on the Grand Line for a time before disappearing."
"So it's really a pirate-run restaurant?" the others exclaimed in disbelief.
Only Artoria and Tom continued devouring their food, entirely unconcerned. Pirate or not, the flavor was divine.
"Does he have a bounty?" Zhang Da Ye asked.
Shark Chili shook his head. "No. According to records, the Cook Pirates were declared dead after a shipwreck. The Marines wrote them off as wiped out."
"Another 'dead man,' huh." Zhang Da Ye glanced at Brook. "One's legally dead, the other's actually dead. I guess they're kindred spirits."
Brook's hollow sockets turned toward him. "Please don't look at me like that, Mr. Da Ye. It feels like you're thinking something terribly rude."
"Apologies," Zhang Da Ye said sincerely.
That only made Brook more distressed. "At least argue back! So you really were thinking something rude! How cruel!"
"Apologies."
"Stop saying that—it sounds like mockery! Is it because I don't have ears to hear you with? Yohohoho!"
Shark Chili ignored the skeleton's antics. "Boss Da Ye, should we intervene?"
"No need," Zhang Da Ye replied. "As long as it's not a scam restaurant, we're fine."
…
In the kitchen, the chefs of Baratie moved in a well-practiced rhythm, preparing dish after dish while chatting casually.
"Ten guests, right, Patty?"
"Of course! I never mess up a count!"
Everyone trusted him—Patty treated paying customers like royalty.
"But they ordered way too much! Who orders an entire menu?"
Zeff pushed his cart back in just then, frowning. "Focus! Those people aren't ordinary. If you collapse before the guests are full, that's a disgrace to this kitchen!"
"Boss, come on—it's just ten servings! I could cook all day!"
"Yeah! No real chef gets tired over a little food!"
At the sink, Sanji looked up curiously. "Old man, what do you mean they're not ordinary?"
"They came from the Grand Line," Zeff said, glancing at him. "Each one's something special."
"The Grand Line?"
"Don't tell me—it's that Amber Travel Group?"
The kitchen went silent. The chefs stared wide-eyed, whispering about the legendary group.
Sanji, however, didn't hear a word. His mind was stuck on those three syllables: Grand Line.
If they'd been there, maybe—just maybe—they'd seen the All Blue.
Everyone used to laugh at him for dreaming about it, except Zeff. If these travelers had real information…
"Sanji! Dish up for table seven!"
"This one too!"
"And here!"
The kitchen burst into activity. One by one, dishes were plated beautifully and sent out.
"Coming!" Sanji hurried to serve the meals. He was still young, with much to learn, so his main duties were running orders and helping with prep work.
Moments later, he rushed back in, the cart stacked high with empty plates. "Faster! Table seven's already finishing their second round!"
"What?"
"No way!"
But the mountain of empty dishes didn't lie.
"Sanji, here," Zeff said, working four woks and a soup pot at once, completing several dishes simultaneously.
Sanji barely had time to breathe. He forgot all about asking them anything—the guests' eating pace was terrifying.
"What's with those faces? You giving up?" Zeff barked.
"Never!"
"As chefs, we'll never let a guest wait!"
"I'm fired up!"
Their pride reignited, the cooks dove back in, spatulas blazing. Sanji and even the waiters joined the chaos, running plates as fast as they could.
Zhang Da Ye's group, meanwhile, kept eating leisurely. Baratie's culinary skill was clearly above average—even better than that gourmet island near Water 7.
The food disappeared over and over again. Other diners gawked, frozen in place, forgetting to leave after paying.
The poor waiter, only on his second day, looked about ready to faint from exhaustion.
Some customers fled, but others stayed—curious how much these maniacs could eat.
Back in the kitchen, everyone was drenched in sweat except Zeff, who calmly cooked on. The others could only mutter, "No wonder they're from the Grand Line…"
But then, trouble arrived.
Around twenty armed thugs swaggered into the restaurant, pistols and swords at their belts. They scraped chairs loudly as they sat down, grinning maliciously.
The leader had a mountain-shaped beard and matching bangs. Leaning back in his chair, he put his filthy boots up on the clean white tablecloth.
The air grew tense. The other diners wanted to leave but didn't dare move toward the exit.
Shark Chili scanned the newcomers—no records of them. He lowered his gaze and kept eating.
After setting down another dish, the terrified waiter shuffled over. "G-good evening, sirs. What would you like to order?"
"Listen up! I'm Dick! And I'm taking this ship. Get your captain out here!"
"P-please, sir, that's not funny…" the waiter stammered, trembling.
One of Dick's men grabbed him by the neck, pressing a gun to his head. "Didn't you hear the boss? If you don't want to joke with my gun, bring the captain out!"
"Y-yes! Right away!" the poor waiter cried, scrambling for the kitchen.
"Boss…" he gasped once inside.
Rui Meng Meng set her chopsticks down. "Boss, looks like there's trouble in the restaurant."
Tom glanced toward the commotion. He tried to think through what was happening, but when he saw Artoria still calmly eating, he gave up and went back to his food.
"Don't worry," Zhang Da Ye said. "Let's see who really has trouble. Wendy, keep an eye on the regular guests."
The Baratie cooks could fight—stronger even than Arlong's lieutenants. Zhang Da Ye doubted these thugs would last long. Maybe Zeff would even use it to advertise the restaurant's strength.
"Got it!" Wendy wiped her mouth and prepared a defensive spell.
Ye Yan chewed on a chicken wing. "Man, these idiots have bad taste. Our ship's worth way more than this restaurant, isn't it? Why rob this instead?"
Zhang Da Ye shrugged. "Well, Baratie's much bigger. If you're going to rob something, go big. And hey—leave me one of those wings!"
Compared to the panicked diners, Zhang Da Ye's table felt like another world—so calm that Dick finally noticed them.
Before he could act, Zeff walked out, wiping his hands. "I'm the owner of Baratie. What do you want with me?"
Sanji and a few grim-faced chefs followed behind.
The waiter hid near the door, trembling. He was already planning to quit—no job was worth getting a gun pointed at your head.
Dick sneered at Zeff. A cook? And a crippled one at that? Perfect.
This ship was practically a gift.
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