"Wow, this looks incredible! Don't you think so, Anya?" Yor exclaimed, clasping her hands together as she surveyed the feast spread before them.
"Uh-huh!" Anya nodded enthusiastically, her eyes wide with anticipation.
As the dishes were arranged on the table, both Yor and Anya showered genuine praise on the collaborative efforts of Loid and Gustave. Their appreciation was so heartfelt and expressive that it made Gustave think fondly of his own crew back on the Bamboo Staff.
What a difference, he mused with amusement. When I serve meals back home, especially since the Red Hair Pirates returned, everyone just grunts their thanks and digs in like hungry wolves. These two actually know how to make a chef feel appreciated.
"Everyone, please take your seats," Loid announced formally, gesturing to the carefully arranged table.
"Tonight's meal is in honor of Mr. Gustave," he continued, his tone sincere. "If it weren't for his kindness, Anya might still be wandering the streets lost and frightened."
He raised his glass of wine with ceremonial precision. "Mr. Gustave, I toast to your generosity!"
"Mr. Loid, you're far too kind," Gustave replied warmly, standing to return the toast.
"Anya wants to toast too!" the little girl piped up, lifting her glass of apple juice with both hands to join the celebration. Her enthusiasm drew gentle laughter from all three adults.
"Of course, Anya! Mrs. Yor, shall we all toast together?"
"Cheers!" they chorused, the warm atmosphere marking the official beginning of their gratitude dinner.
Gustave took his first bite of the black pepper beef tenderloin pasta and immediately gave an appreciative thumbs up. "Mr. Loid, your culinary skills are genuinely impressive. The pasta has absorbed the flavors perfectly, and the beef is cooked to absolute perfection. This is restaurant-quality work!"
"You're too generous with your praise," Loid demurred modestly.
However, when he tried Gustave's cold shredded chicken, his expression shifted to one of genuine amazement. The complexity of flavors - the perfect balance of heat, sweetness, acidity, and umami - revealed the vast gap between hobby cooking and true professional mastery.
"Mr. Gustave," Loid said with newfound respect, "compared to your expertise, my cooking is merely amateur dabbling."
"Please, Mr. Loid, you're being far too modest," Gustave deflected graciously. "I'm a professional chef who owns a restaurant - this is my livelihood. You're pursuing cooking as a passion, and frankly, your skill level rivals many professionals I've encountered. That's genuinely impressive."
The two men continued their polite exchange of compliments, much to Anya's bewilderment. She stared at them with wide, confused eyes, completely baffled by why adults spent so much time talking instead of simply enjoying their food.
With the decisive wisdom only a child could possess, Anya chose to ignore the grown-ups' chatter and focus on the important business of eating.
After the thoroughly enjoyable meal, Gustave bid farewell to the Forger family. Though it was already dark in their world, when he stepped through the Gate back to the Bamboo Staff, brilliant daylight still bathed the deck.
"Burp!"
The satisfied sound escaped him involuntarily - he'd definitely overindulged at the Forgers' dinner table.
After taking a moment to settle his overly full stomach, Gustave made his way down to the main floor. He grabbed a small blackboard from behind the bar, scrawled a brief message across it in bold letters, and unceremoniously dropped it on the counter before heading to his quarters for the night.
When dinnertime arrived, the usual suspects began trickling back from their various activities - gaming sessions, deck lounging, interdimensional visits - all expecting their customary feast. But tonight felt different.
"Where's Gustave?" Tu Shanyan demanded, looking around frantically. "There's no food anywhere, and he's completely vanished!"
"I'll check the kitchen!" Luffy volunteered, racing toward the galley at full speed. He returned moments later, shaking his head. "Nothing! It's totally empty!"
"Look at this!" Uta called out, pointing to the blackboard Gustave had left behind.
The hungry crew gathered around to read the message scrawled across it:
"Handle your own dinner tonight. I already ate. - Gustave"
A collective wail of despair rose from the assembled group. After a full day of leisure activities, they'd all counted on returning to one of Gustave's magnificent meals. Instead, their chef had gone on strike!
With no other options, they reluctantly pressed Po and Tom into emergency cooking duty, managing to cobble together a simple meal that would at least prevent anyone from starving.
The next morning dawned bright and breezy. Gustave yawned as he slowly emerged from his cabin, stretching away the last remnants of sleep. As he descended to the main deck, he was surprised to find Shanks and Uta sitting there, both fully dressed and alert - a stark contrast to their usual leisurely morning routine.
"Well, well," Gustave said, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. "Did the sun rise in the west today? What's gotten you two up so early?"
He stepped out onto the deck and squinted at the sky, half-convinced he was still dreaming. Shanks typically slept until noon before stumbling over to the Bamboo Staff in search of food. This sudden change in behavior was deeply suspicious.
"Gustave," Shanks said seriously, "we came to say goodbye."
"Goodbye?" Gustave's eyebrows shot up. "What, are you leaving just because I didn't cook last night? That's pretty petty, even for you."
"Hahaha! What kind of person do you think I am?" Shanks laughed heartily, genuinely amused by Gustave's immediate assumption. "The Red Hair Pirates have been anchored here for quite a while now. It's natural that we'd eventually move on."
"Uncle Gustave," Uta added gently, "Shanks isn't joking. We really are leaving to continue our adventures around the world."
Only when Uta confirmed it did Gustave realize Shanks was completely serious.
"You're leaving already? That seems awfully sudden."
Despite how troublesome the Red Hair Pirates could be - with their boisterous drinking, endless appetite, and general chaos - Gustave felt a genuine pang of reluctance at their departure. For all their noise and disruption, they'd brought joy and liveliness to the Bamboo Staff.
"To use your own words, Gustave," Shanks said with a philosophical smile, "'All good things must come to an end.'"
"We've stayed in Windmill Village longer than usual this time, and we've learned your greatest secret. We've traveled to other worlds and witnessed incredible sights that most people could never imagine. But pirates are meant to be free - we can't remain anchored in one place forever, no matter how comfortable it becomes. This world is vast, and there are countless places we haven't explored yet. It would be a shame not to see what's out there."
"Besides," he added with his characteristic grin, "leaving doesn't mean we'll never return. Give it some time, and we might just show up again when you least expect it."
"Won't you at least stay for breakfast before you go?" Gustave offered, though he already knew the answer.
"No, let's save that breakfast for next time," Shanks replied thoughtfully. "That way, we'll have something to look forward to when we return. Right, Uta?"
"Right!" Uta nodded vigorously, though there was a hint of sadness in her bright smile.
"Well then," Gustave sighed, making a shooing gesture with his hands, "if you're determined to leave, I won't try to stop you. Get going before I change my mind and convince you to stay for one of my legendary breakfasts."
"Gustave, you really do change your tune quickly!" Shanks complained good-naturedly as he turned to leave with Uta.
After taking just a few steps, Uta suddenly stopped and turned back, pulling something from inside her jacket.
"Uncle Gustave, this took me several days to make," she said, holding out an exquisitely crafted shell instrument. "Please make sure Chan'er gets this!"
Gustave realized that Uta had been quietly working on this gift throughout their stay. During the Red Hair Pirates' extended visit, Uta and Yang Chan had quickly become close friends despite their different backgrounds. Yang Chan particularly loved listening to Uta sing and had expressed interest in learning to play music herself.
Remembering this, Uta had asked Shanks to help her search for the perfect shell, spending days carefully crafting it into a beautiful xiao flute. The sudden departure had been Uta's own suggestion - she couldn't bear the thought of a tearful goodbye with her new friend, so she'd decided to entrust the gift to Gustave instead.
"Don't worry, Uta," Gustave said gently, crouching down to her eye level and ruffling her hair affectionately. "I promise Yang Chan will receive this, and I'll tell her exactly how much thought you put into making it."
"Thank you, Uncle Gustave," Uta whispered, giving him a quick hug. "Goodbye!"
"Take care of yourselves out there," Gustave replied, returning the embrace.
And with that, he watched as Shanks and Uta walked away, their figures growing smaller as they headed toward the harbor. The Red Force slowly pulled away from the dock, its distinctive sails catching the morning wind. Gustave remained on deck until the ship disappeared completely beyond the horizon, leaving only empty ocean behind.
When the other members of the Bamboo Staff crew finally woke up and discovered the Red Force's absence, panic briefly ensued until Gustave explained the situation. There was a collective sense of loss - the pirates had become part of their extended family during their stay.
Later that morning, Gustave presented Uta's handcrafted xiao to Yang Chan. The young girl accepted the gift silently, her expression unreadable, but the care with which she handled it spoke volumes. She immediately found a red silk cord and threaded it through the instrument, hanging it carefully around her neck where it would remain close to her heart - a beautiful reminder of an unexpected friendship that had bridged worlds.