POWAAA...
I NEED THE POWAAA OF MONEY TO PAY THE CHILD SUPPORT...
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Thought of the Day:
People want to win without losing, but even heaven demands death.
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Attendance Please:
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Two days passed in the blink of an eye.
After Zeff's heartfelt talk with Sanji, the young cook finally decided to do what he had always wanted—to chase his dream by joining Luffy and the others on their journey.
Zeff and Sanji visited the Straw Hats during their free time and told them everything.
Luffy was the most delighted by the news.
They now had a cook on their crew, one who really knew how to kick ass.
As usual, Luffy organized a welcoming party for Sanji, where Sanji ended up cooking for his own celebration. Yet, there was a genuine smile on his face, soft and unguarded, as if he had finally found a place where he truly belonged. Every flick of his wrist, every careful seasoning, every plate he sent out carried something that had been missing from his cooking for years: joy.
Zeff watched from the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, looking as gruff as ever. Yet his eyes were soft and relieved. Seeing Sanji smile again and enjoy himself with the Straw Hats was enough.
Now, here they all were, sitting in a private booth inside the Baratie. Zoro was also there, which was something of a miracle considering he had spent most of the past forty-eight hours in bed.
True to Zeff and Yuji's words, it took only two days for Zoro's slash wound to heal completely. All that remained was a scar—a thin, silver line running diagonally across his chest, just shy of his heart. It was a permanent reminder of the real gap between him and the world's strongest swordsman.
During those two days, Zeff also experienced significant financial strain.
Why is that?
Well, he could only blame Luffy and Yuji for that.
Who would have thought that the captain and his first mate would have such enormous appetites that, in their joy over Sanji joining and Zoro recovering, they would consume nearly a month's worth of the restaurant's supplies?
"Two men," Zeff muttered to himself, staring at the empty pantries. "Two men. A month's worth of food—in two days."
The math was mathing properly.
Fortunately for the chefs, Sanji handled all the cooking, which meant the food was excellent. The kitchen staff had even started placing bets on how many plates Luffy could eat before his stomach gave out. The count was already at forty-seven and still climbing.
Zeff rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration, overwhelmed by the creeping fear of going bankrupt.
But he didn't say anything because one look at Sanji's happy, eager expression was enough to put his mind at ease.
'Truly,' Zeff thought again, watching Sanji spin a bottle of olive oil like a baton, 'being a father is not easy.'
'Even when the child is adopted.'
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"Ahhhh, now this is what I call living!" Zoro said, taking a long sip from a beer bottle and letting out a satisfied sigh that seemed to come from deep within his bones. "I really missed this!"
"Bro, it was only two days!" Usopp said with exaggerated disbelief.
"What was two days for you was two lifetimes without a drink for me!" Zoro shot back, already reaching for another sip. "You'll understand when you start drinking yourself!"
Usopp waved his hand dismissively. "No thanks, mate. I'm a sharpshooter, and a sharpshooter needs to be in top form at all times. Drinking will only make my aim clumsy."
"Well, too bad—you'll miss out on the best part of life," Zoro said, giving Usopp a pitying look.
Usopp just stared at him, deadpan.
"Shishishishishi… Zoro reminds me of how Shanks loves his alcohol too!" Luffy said with a laugh, already reaching for his fifth plate of something that had once been fish. "It's like they can't live without it!"
Zoro smirked, genuine camaraderie lighting up his face. "You're damn right! Sounds like Shanks is a man of culture. Now I really want to meet him one day and have a drink together."
Nami just shook her head, her voice tinged with fond exasperation. "I can't believe the first thing he did after getting out of bed was ask for alcohol!"
Yuji chuckled and leaned back, stretching his arms along the backrest. "Well, I'd say Zoro loves alcohol as much as you love tangerines."
"Wha— h-how do you know about that!?" Nami asked, her eyes widening with genuine shock. She had been careful. She had never mentioned her love for tangerines. Never. How could he—
"Come on, it's pretty obvious," Yuji shrugged, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "Whenever drinks are an option, you always look for tangerine juice first. And when you can't find any, you grudgingly order orange juice. Every single time."
Nami's mouth fell open. She pointed a finger at him, her cheeks flushing pink.
"Creepy big brother spying on his little sister."
"What can I say…" Yuji grinned. "…my little sister is just that cute!"
He reached over and gently pinched her cheek.
"H-Hentai!" she exclaimed, swatting at his hand, though she wasn't really trying to stop him.
Luffy, Zoro, and Usopp laughed at the sibling-like banter between them.
Then Sanji stepped forward with a plate and placed it in front of Luffy. "Here's your special order, Captain—meat on the bone. And there's a little surprise inside."
Luffy's eyes shone like twin suns as he gazed at the dish. It was exactly as he had requested, perfectly cooked meat wrapped around a large bone, its surface glistening with juices and an aroma rising in waves that suddenly made everyone else in the booth acutely aware of their own hunger.
He took a huge bite right from the middle immediately.
His eyes widened in surprise as he chewed, savoring the layers of flavor unfolding on his tongue: the richness of the meat, the subtle smokiness from the secret spice blend Sanji had used, and then—
"Whoa! This is so good…" Luffy said, already taking another bite, his voice muffled by the meat. "…Is that an egg inside!?"
Sanji smirked and gave a half-theatrical bow, one hand behind his back, the other gesturing to his creation like a magician showcasing a trick. "Well, I aim to please. And yes, I put a soft-boiled egg inside and cooked the meat at just the right temperature so that when you take a bite, the yolk stays runny instead of overcooking. It's a small detail, but small details matter."
"Mmm hmm…" Luffy hummed, his cheeks bulging and his eyes practically sparkling. "You really are the best cook in the world, Sanji."
Sanji smiled and rubbed the back of his neck, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Hehehe..."
And then, because the universe had a sense of humor, and because peace was never the option, Sanji's mood sank like a stone into still water.
"Hey, cook, bring me another bottle of beer."
Zoro. Of course, it was Zoro.
Sanji looked at him with a bored expression, the warmth draining from his face like a tide pulling away from the shore. "No."
"Huh!?"
"What? Do you have a hearing problem or something? I said no."
Zoro slammed his hand on the table, rattling the plates. "Now listen here, you curly brows, I need my sustenance, and this here—" he pointed at the empty beer bottle with the gravity of a man declaring war, "—is what I need the most."
"No," Sanji replied again.
Zoro's eye twitched, and his jaw tightened. He leaned toward Sanji. "You wanna fight, curly brows?"
Sanji stepped forward, closing the distance. He looked directly into Zoro's eyes. "I may be a cook, but I don't shy away from a fight. So bring it on, moss head."
"What did you just call me?"
Sanji smirked, his expression sharp enough to cut. "Looks like you really do have a hearing problem, huh—moss head?"
Zoro gritted his teeth, a vein pulsing at his temple. "Why you…"
His hand moved toward his sword.
Sanji raised his right leg slightly, shifting his weight and preparing to move.
But then—
BANG
The sound was like a cannon blast in the dining room. Wood splintered, glass shattered, and the waiter who had been standing at the entrance was sent flying through the air.
He crashed into a nearby table where a family of four was eating.
The table collapsed, and plates shattered as the family screamed.
"What the—!?" Zoro and Sanji muttered, turning toward the sudden commotion.
As the dust from the shattered door settled, a figure emerged from the haze.
He was tall, impossibly tall. Easily eight feet, with a body that seemed carved from granite and storm clouds. His skin was bluish gray. He wore a martial artist's gi, white and spotless despite the destruction he had caused. In one hand, he carried a brown sack that squirmed slightly, as if something inside were alive.
He surveyed the restaurant slowly and deliberately, his gaze sweeping from table to table over the terrified customers, the frozen chefs, and the shattered wood and broken glass.
Searching for someone.
Nami, meanwhile, had turned pale.
Her right hand immediately went to her left bicep, clutching the fabric tightly, her knuckles white. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps. She could almost feel the burn beneath the cloth, the mark, the brand, the proof of her cage.
Then the fishman's eyes landed on the private booth where Nami was seated.
And he smiled.
"So the clown was right. You really are here," the fishman said in a deep voice that seemed to vibrate through the floorboards.
"Of course I'm right, you Aquaman! Now pull me out of this sack." A muffled voice came from inside the brown sack, high-pitched, nasally, and annoyingly familiar.
The fishman lifted the sack, opened it with one hand, and reached inside.
What he pulled out caused several customers to scream.
It was a head.
Just a head, severed at the neck, with blue hair hanging in limp strands and a red clown nose gleaming in the light. Yet the eyes were alive, and the mouth was moving. The head was talking.
"Haahhh… fresh air! Even though my lungs aren't here, I still need it to live!" said the severed head, inhaling dramatically as if it had been drowning in that sack.
Then the head turned toward the group and grinned widely, its lips painted a garish red.
"Well, hello there, twinkles! Long time no see!"
Luffy, who had somehow continued eating throughout all of this, finally paused. He tilted his head and squinted.
Then his eyes widened.
"BUNNY!"
"IT'S BUGGY, YOU STUPID STRAW HAT BOY!" the head, Buggy, shrieked, his face turning red with rage. "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?"
Zoro stood up, followed by Yuji and Usopp. The three of them formed a loose line between the fishman and the booth, creating an unspoken wall of protection.
"How the hell did you find us?" Zoro asked, his hand resting on the only sword he had with him, Wado Ichimonji.
"Oh, you know, same old, same old…" Buggy said with a wide, smug smile. "I've got ears everywhere."
And then, Luffy's straw hat twitched.
A small, fleshy ear detached from the red ribbon on the hat, flew through the air, and reattached itself to the side of Buggy's head.
"See?" Buggy's grin widened. "Amazing, right?"
The fishman lifted Buggy's head higher, holding it by the blue hair like a grotesque lantern. He glanced at the clown with a look that was somewhere between contempt and exhaustion.
"Your part is done, clown. I have no further use for you."
With that, he tossed Buggy's head aside like a piece of garbage.
Buggy's head sailed through the air, tumbled twice, and landed squarely on one of the busier tables, right in the middle of a group of merchants.
"GOD DAMN IT!! THAT WAS NOT THE DEAL!" Buggy shouted at the fishman, his face flushed purple with fury. Then he noticed the merchants staring at his head with the frozen expressions of people who weren't entirely sure they were awake.
"Oh, howdy," Buggy said, his rage instantly shifting to theatrical charm. "I'm Buggy the Clown! You know me, right? Of course you do—after all, I'm a famous celebrity pirate." He winked. "Now, would you be kind enough to take me back to my fish friend over there? I really need to have a serious talk with him."
Right then, the merchants screamed. One of them fainted on the spot, his head hitting the table with a solid thunk.
Panic spread like wildfire. Customers scrambled over one another, knocking over chairs and tables, screaming about talking heads, fishmen, and pirates. Within seconds, the dining room was nearly empty.
Buggy sighed dramatically, watching the chaos with a hint of disappointment. "People these days," he muttered, "can't even appreciate kindness."
The fishman ignored everything.
His yellow eyes were fixed on Nami.
"So," he said, his voice low and rumbling, "you've joined another pirate crew, huh, Nami? Arlong will be really sad to see how you've betrayed him."
He took a step forward, and the floor groaned beneath his weight.
"Have you forgotten about your deal, or have you finally given up on it?"
Nami's breath caught in her throat, and her hand tightened on her arm.
"NO!" she said, her voice cracking. "I haven't given up on it. I've just been… busy collecting the money. Yeah, I've just been busy."
The fishman stared at her for a long moment. Then he nodded slowly, as if confirming something he had already known.
"I see," he said. "Then we should go now. Come with me."
He reached out his hand toward her, and Nami felt her legs begin to move.
But before she could take a single step—
"AND WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, LEAVING JUST LIKE THAT!?"
The voice cracked sharply like a whip.
Everyone turned around.
Zeff stood in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, wooden leg firmly planted on the ground, his chef's hat somehow still perfectly straight despite everything. His eyes were fixed on the fishman with an intensity that seemed to lower the temperature in the room.
"You barged into my restaurant, broke my door, hurt one of my waiters, and made all my customers leave." Zeff walked forward, his peg leg thumping against the floor in a slow, steady rhythm. He stopped directly in front of the fishman, looked up, and met those yellow eyes without a trace of fear. "Now tell me, fishman—who's going to pay for all this? You? Or your boss, Arlong?"
The fishman looked down at the old man. His gills fluttered once, then twice.
"This is none of your business, human," he said. "Step aside."
"Oh, this is my business," Zeff said without moving. "That girl right there is my VIP customer, so she's not going anywhere."
The fishman took another step forward. The floorboards groaned in protest beneath his weight. He towered over Zeff, casting a shadow that should have been terrifying, one that should have made the old man flinch.
"You shouldn't stick your nose into something you can't get out of," he warned.
Zeff looked up at the fishman and scoffed.
"Oh yeah?" Zeff said, a dangerous smile curling his lips. "And what are you going to do? Kill me?"
The tension between them was so thick it could be cut with a knife.
Then Nami spoke up, her voice small and trembling. "Mister Zeff, please, it's okay. You don't need to do this." She looked at the fishman, her eyes wet but her chin lifted with a defiance that cost her everything. "And Kuroobi, please, don't do anything. I'll come with you."
"No, girly. You're not going anywhere," Zeff said, his voice final. "I don't know what these fishmen are forcing you to do, but I know one thing, you're suffering. And I can't stand to see an innocent girl suffer like that."
The fishman, Kuroobi's face darkened with anger. His gills flared, and his hands clenched into fists.
"I've listened to enough of your nonsense," he growled.
He grabbed Zeff by the front of his collar and lifted him off the ground as if he weighed nothing. Zeff's wooden leg dangled uselessly.
"If you really want to die so badly," Kuroobi said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I'll gladly send you to your death."
And then he threw Zeff.
The old chef flew through the air like a ragdoll, arms and legs flailing, his chef's hat finally coming loose and spinning away. He crashed into one of the heavy wooden tables, which shattered upon impact.
Zeff lay in the wreckage, coughing as blood trickled from a cut on his forehead.
"OLD MAN!"
Both Sanji and Luffy shouted simultaneously.
Nami's hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. She had seen this before, what Arlong's crew did to those who stood up to them. She had seen bodies floating in the harbor, faces frozen in final screams.
'Not again,' she thought. 'Please, not again.'
Zoro's grip tightened on Wado Ichimonji.
But Sanji moved first.
"HOW DARE YOU TOUCH MY FATHER!"
Sanji shot forward, his foot connecting with Kuroobi's face with a sickening crunch.
Kuroobi staggered back a step, clutching his now-broken nose, but Sanji didn't stop. He kicked again and again, each strike landing with precision, each blow driving the fishman further back.
However, Kuroobi was a fishman, and fishmen were significantly stronger than humans.
He caught Sanji's next kick.
The impact froze mid-air, Sanji's leg locked in Kuroobi's grip, the fishman's fingers digging into his ankle hard enough to bruise the bone. Kuroobi looked at him with blood streaming from his nose and fury burning in his yellow eyes.
"Impressive," Kuroobi said, his voice thick with blood and rage. "For a human."
He pulled his right arm back, palm open and fingers splayed, the signature stance of Fishman Karate.
And then, he struck.
The palm struck Sanji's chest with the force of a battering ram. Sanji felt his ribs scream in pain. The air burst from his lungs as his body lifted off the ground and flew backward.
He hit the wall.
Sanji slumped to the floor, gasping, his vision swimming and blood staining his lips.
"SANJI!" Luffy shouted, his voice now different.
He turned to Kuroobi, his expression serious.
Luffy pulled his arm back, stretching it until the muscles tightened.
"GUM-GUM PISTOL!"
His fist shot forward like a cannonball, striking Kuroobi square in the chest with a sound like a drum being struck by a god.
Kuroobi was thrown backward and looked down at Luffy's outstretched arm, genuine shock evident in his yellow eyes.
"A Devil Fruit user? In the East Blue?"
Then Luffy was on top of him.
Punch after punch after punch, each one landing, each one driving the fishman further back, each one making the walls shake and the floorboards splinter. Luffy's fists were blurs, leaving afterimages in the air.
Kuroobi gritted his teeth against Luffy's assault, enduring the storm, allowing the punches to land and hurt, all while waiting for his moment.
'There,' he thought, as Luffy's left fist overextended by a fraction of an inch.
Kuroobi's hand shot out and grabbed Luffy's stretched arm. Before the rubber boy could react, the fishman yanked him forward, off balance, straight into the path of his open palm.
The palm struck Luffy's chin.
The rubber boy's head snapped back, and his body followed. He flew upward, crashed through the railing on the second floor, and landed somewhere in the shadows amid the crash of breaking furniture.
Silence fell.
Zoro stepped forward, Wado half-drawn. But before he could attack, Yuji's hand landed on his shoulder.
"Zoro," Yuji said quietly, "I know that with enough time, you and Luffy could take him down. But it would cause too much damage to the restaurant, and I don't think old man Zeff would appreciate that."
Zoro's jaw tightened. He wanted to argue. He wanted to draw his sword and cut this fishman bastard into pieces for hurting his captain.
But Yuji was right.
"Fine," Zoro growled, stepping back.
Yuji nodded and took a step forward, then Nami grabbed his arm.
Her fingers trembled. Her whole body shook. "Big bro, please, you don't have to do this. Just let me go with him—"
Yuji cut her off.
He placed his hand on her head and ruffled her hair, just as an older brother might.
"It's okay, Nami," Yuji said softly, his voice warmer than she had ever heard it. "You don't have to be afraid anymore. Stay by Zoro and Usopp's side and watch closely."
He turned toward Kuroobi.
The fishman was breathing heavily now, his chest heaving and his hands shaking from the punishment he had taken from Luffy. Blood dripped from his broken nose onto his pristine white gi. He looked… tired.
Yuji began walking toward him.
Slowly and quietly, his steps made no sound on the wooden floor. His hands hung at his sides, open and relaxed. His face was expressionless.
And yet.
And yet, as Yuji approached, Kuroobi felt something he had not experienced in years.
Fear.
This was something deeper, something primal. The kind of fear small animals feel when a shadow passes over the sun, when the wind shifts, when they realize, too late, that they are not the hunter.
They are the prey.
Kuroobi's animal instincts went haywire. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to run, to flee, to dive into the ocean and never look back.
Even with the height difference, it felt as if he were the one being looked down upon, by an apex predator.
'No,' Kuroobi told himself. 'No, I am a fishman. I am stronger. I am faster. I have killed men twice his size.'
But his hands were trembling.
When Yuji stopped in front of him, Kuroobi's fight-or-flight instinct immediately made the decision for him.
He attacked.
His palm strike was flawless, form perfect, power devastating, and technique honed over decades of training. It would have killed any normal man. It would have shattered stone.
Yuji caught it.
Just… caught it. His hand closed around Kuroobi's wrist like a steel trap, stopping the fishman's forward momentum dead in its tracks.
And then Yuji twisted.
The sound of bones breaking echoed loudly in the silent restaurant. Kuroobi's forearm bent at an unnatural angle, and a shard of white bone pierced through the bluish-gray skin, gleaming in the light.
"AAHHHH!"
Kuroobi screamed in pain.
He fell to his knees, clutching his injured arm, his face pale beneath its natural color. Sweat beaded on his brow, and tears leaked from his yellow eyes.
Yuji, still clutching his broken hand, raised his other arm. He curled his fingers into a fist and brought it down forcefully.
The punch drove Kuroobi's head straight through the floorboards, piercing the wood and the support beams beneath, until the fishman's face was buried below the restaurant. His body twitched once.
Then it went still.
Yuji pulled his fist out of the head-sized hole. Blood dripped from his knuckles, pattering onto the floor.
He stood up straight.
Turned around.
Looked at Nami.
She had fallen to her knees. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth was open in a silent scream that never came. She looked at him as if he were a force of nature.
Yuji walked back toward her, his footsteps soft on the ruined floor. He knelt down in front of her, lowering himself to her level.
"I hope," Yuji said quietly, "that you can trust us more now, Nami, and share your burden with us."
He reached out and gently wiped a tear from her cheek, a tear she hadn't even realized was falling.
"After all," he said, his smile gentle, "we're a family now. And family always stands with each other, in any and every situation."
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See you in next chapter....