Sanji had always wanted to go out to sea; the only reason he stayed here was Zeff.
If Alan wanted to push him toward a decision, he naturally needed to aim at that point.
Perhaps he didn't do perfectly, but the direction was right. If it still didn't work, then there was nothing he could do.
He didn't know how long he'd been standing there, but the bottle in his hand was already empty.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
On the second-floor balcony, Zeff walked out and stopped at the railing.
He stared at the calm sea for a moment, then at Alan's back.
The black pirate coat fluttered slightly, as if expressing its longing for wind and freedom.
A cloak really is the perfect match for a pirate…
Zeff sighed sentimentally.
After a quiet moment, he spoke in a deep voice: "Why do you want to go to the Grand Line?"
"With your strength, you could already dominate a region in the East Blue. Why go somewhere so deadly?"
Before Alan could answer, Zeff continued: "Since you came from Marineford, you should know how terrifying the Grand Line is."
"Extremely dangerous weather, hostile islands, powerful beasts, not to mention the ambitious pirates roaming the sea."
"You might encounter a massive tsunami in one sea area, get chased by strange, unknown creatures the moment you land, or get targeted by some big-name pirate for no reason..."
Gazing at the gray sky, Zeff spoke on and on.
It sounded like he was explaining something to Alan, but also like he was telling his own story in a different way.
Alan didn't look back; he simply listened quietly.
In this sea where pirates trembled at the name of the Grand Line, Zeff probably hadn't met someone he could talk to about these things in a long time.
Alan silently played the role of listener while an old man rambled endlessly.
His words were scattered; one moment, he talked about a pirate crew, the next about a tornado he encountered.
Alan actually wanted to hear about how Zeff met Sanji, but Zeff didn't mention it at all.
Not once did he talk about what he did to save Sanji.
Eventually, Zeff's voice trailed off.
Alan turned slightly and looked at the old man on the balcony. He couldn't help asking: "So, how exactly did your leg break?"
Zeff: "..."
Zeff lowered his head and looked at his missing leg. After a moment of silence, the corner of his mouth curled.
"I bet my dream on a young man!"
Alan: "..."
Don't tell me you also bet on the new era like someone else…
"But you still haven't answered my question. What exactly is drawing you to the Grand Line even though you know how dangerous it is?"
Zeff asked again while staring seriously at Alan.
Alan didn't know why the old man cared about this question, but he looked back at the sea and said calmly: "The sky of the East Blue is too small..."
"Knowing how vast the outside world is, yet forcing yourself to stay in this tiny corner... Isn't that suffocating?"
A faint smile tugged at Alan's lips as the sea breeze lifted his black hair. Something like a starry sky seemed to gleam inside his eyes.
"My life must bloom most brilliantly, on the grandest stage!"
"So, old man."
Alan turned, planted his hands on his hips, and grinned.
"Convince Sanji to come with me. If that doesn't work, you can come out of retirement and go one more round yourself. Seventy is just the right age to fight like hell."
Zeff: "..."
Zeff stared at Alan with dead-fish eyes.
Even an old man half a step into his coffin wasn't spared. Just how desperate was this guy for a chef?
But Alan had been suffocating these past two days from the horrible food.
In this world lacking technology and shortcuts, ordinary people's cooking was disgustingly awful.
He really didn't know how they lived with it.
If he couldn't recruit a good chef, he'd seriously need to reconsider becoming a marine again.
...
"What convinced him? I don't understand what you're talking about."
Zeff turned around, looking like he was about to leave.
Just as Alan was about to resign himself to disappointment, Zeff suddenly added, back still facing him: "I don't know what you told him, but he's already preparing to leave."
"Eh?"
Alan froze.
Expressionless, Zeff continued walking toward the cabin.
As he walked, he grumbled: "He barged into my room talking nonsense about dreams, seeing the All Blue for me with his own eyes, living long enough to return and be filial, and other idiotic things."
"I'm not even seventy yet, I can live another fifty years just fine."
"That brat doesn't know humility. He learns a bit and thinks he's great!"
Bang!!
"Tch! Idiot!"
The door slammed shut violently, leaving only a crude insult echoing on the empty deck.
Watching Zeff's grumbling back disappear indoors, Alan blinked in confusion.
So… did it work...?
…
Inside the restaurant, pirates streamed in, looking around excitedly, chatting and bragging noisily.
For the first time, Alan realized how accurate the phrase country bumpkins entering the city was.
Sham had already coordinated with Baratie's staff. Over two million belly was more than enough for an eighty-person banquet.
Baratie might be a famous East Blue restaurant, but it didn't only serve luxury meals.
As for drinks, they had everything, from rare bottles costing hundreds of thousands of belly to entry-level ones costing a few thousand, depending on what you wanted.
Eighty people, eight tables, thirty thousand Belly worth of dishes per table.
Add in decent alcohol and regular food, and the budget was enough to let them eat themselves to death here.
When Sham showed the kitchen's menu, the pirates all drooled with excitement.
To pirates who treated cheap rum as the source of life, they'd never experienced such luxury!
Meanwhile in the kitchen… Most of Baratie's chefs were mobilized, ready to go all out.
Zeff and Sanji were among them.
Zeff lowered his head to check the list of ingredients and said in a deep voice, "This is probably your last time working in the restaurant. Don't tarnish my reputation right before you leave."
"You're the one who should be worried. Don't let your old hands tremble while cooking, you wrinkly geezer."
Sanji held a cigarette in his mouth as he carefully cleaned his cooking station, replying indifferently.
Zeff didn't even lift his eyelids.
He snorted and countered: "Hmph, when I picked up a ladle, you were still crawling around on the ground with a pacifier in your mouth, you snot-nosed little brat."