Inside the dining hall of the Baratie, a "Food War" was reaching its climax.
"WAHHH!! So good!! DELICIOUS!!"
Luffy was operating at full throttle. His hands moved in blurs, frantically stuffing a seemingly bottomless gullet with every dish in sight. Opposite him, perched on the table, Kray was refusing to back down.
As an officially recognized "emergency food reserve" (by Viktor's standards), the crow seemed determined to prove its worth through pure caloric intake.
"Caw-caw-gaaa!!"
Kray snatched up an octopus tentacle thicker than its own body, tearing into it like a lion with a fresh kill. Tears of joy shimmered in its beady eyes. So good... even if I burst, it was worth it!!
Nami, Zoro, and Usopp were long past being surprised by this, eating and drinking at their own pace. But Johnny and Yosaku sat frozen, their forks hitting the floor.
Johnny watched the tower of empty plates rise higher and higher, swallowing hard. "Is he a ghost of starvation reincarnated?"
The chefs, running back and forth with fresh trays, were drenched in sweat. "What... what kind of monsters are these people? Well, whatever. They paid eight times the amount up front. Let's just treat it like feeding a pack of prize hogs."
Gulp.
With one final, thunderous swallow, Luffy finally stopped. He patted his perfectly spherical belly and let out a satisfied, soul-shaking belch. "Ahhh! So full! I feel like I've come back to life!"
"Hah? So there is a limit to your stomach," Zoro remarked, putting down his glass and draining the last drop of wine. He smacked his lips, frowning. "Sour. Not strong enough. I definitely need some real ale."
Luffy didn't respond to the jab. His eyes were fixed on a figure across the room. Sanji, the blonde sous-chef, was holding a steaming plate of seafood fried rice.
He didn't head for a customer's table; instead, he walked straight out the main doors toward the outer deck.
Luffy adjusted his straw hat, a glint in his eyes. "The guy the old man mentioned... it's him."
Without a word, Luffy hopped off his chair and followed like a curious shadow. Viktor, wiping a bit of grease from the corner of his mouth with a napkin, caught the movement.
He seemed to guess what was happening, stood up, and followed leisurely with his hands in his pockets.
Nami watched them leave, puzzled. "Where are those two going? Didn't they eat enough?" She sighed, her gaze dropping back to the table, her expression turning somber as her own thoughts caught up to her.
Out on the deck, the sea breeze was cool. Gin was huddled in a dark corner, clutching his spasming stomach and gasping for air.
He could feel his life leaking away with his body heat. The sensation of his internal organs seemingly devouring themselves from hunger was an agony worse than death.
At this moment, he almost wished the "violent" chefs from earlier had just finished him off.
Then, an intoxicating aroma drifted into his nostrils, instantly jolting his dying nerves.
Clack.
A plate piled high with seafood fried rice was placed gently in front of him. Gin struggled to lift his heavy eyelids. Through blurred vision, he saw a silhouette in a black suit.
Sanji crouched down, leaning his back against the railing, and flicked a lighter to ignite a cigarette. He took a deep drag and exhaled a plume of pale blue smoke.
"Eat," Sanji said flatly.
Gin stared at the rice, his throat working convulsively. But the last shred of pride as a pirate officer made him grit his teeth. "Shut up... don't look down on me..." he rasped. "No matter how hungry I am... I won't accept charity... take it away!!"
"Stop talking and just eat." Sanji didn't even look at him, staring out at the darkening sea. "To me, anyone who's hungry is a customer."
"Sorry... I'm not a customer..." Gin stubbornly turned his head away.
Grumble—!
His stomach chose that exact moment to let out a loud, traitorous protest. Sanji glanced at him sideways, a mocking curve to his lips. "See? Your body is a lot more honest than your mouth."
Sanji's eyes turned distant, as if he were reliving a memory he'd rather forget. "The sea is vast and cruel. I know better than anyone how terrifying it is to lose food and water out there. That kind of despair... I understand it. So eat. Staying alive is the only thing that matters."
Gin's body trembled. He looked at the fried rice and could no longer resist.
"Ugh..."
He lunged forward. Using every ounce of his remaining strength, he grabbed the spoon—then just used his hands—shoveling the rice into his mouth with animalistic desperation.
"Sob... damn it... damn it..." Tears mixed with grains of rice streamed down his face. "It's so good... It's the best thing I've ever tasted!!"
Watching the starving man devour the food, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touched Sanji's lips. He took another long drag of his cigarette.
"Hahaha! I found a great cook!!"
Luffy's signature laugh rang out from the stairs above. He and Viktor were standing there, having witnessed the entire exchange.
Luffy leaned over the railing, shouting down at Sanji, "Hey! Cook! Join us! Be the chef for our pirate crew! We need you!"
Both men below froze. Gin stopped swallowing, dazed. Sanji exhaled a cloud of smoke and looked up at Luffy with an annoyed expression.
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not becoming a pirate. I'm staying right here. I have something I have to finish."
"Why not? Come with us! It'll be fun!" Luffy persisted.
It was then that Viktor stepped forward. Hands in his pockets, his red eyes looked down at Sanji and Gin with a cold clarity. He wore his usual smile, but his voice lacked any warmth.
"Ah, how very kind, Chef-san. But if I may be blunt... this isn't just kindness. It's—naivety."
Sanji's eyes narrowed, fixing on Viktor.
Viktor continued, "In this cruel sea, a starving man is a pitiful sight. But have you considered..." He pointed at Gin.
"A wolf might wag its tail for a scrap of meat when it's dying of hunger. But once its belly is full and its strength returns, its wild nature comes back. Its fangs won't hesitate to tear out the throat of its savior."
"Risquing this entire ship for the sake of a self-indulgent moment of 'goodness'... is that your 'Path of the Chef'?"
Luffy stopped swaying and looked at Viktor, seemingly processing the words. Gin froze mid-bite, then snapped his head up to glare. "Don't... don't screw with me! You bastard! I would never—"
"Shut up and eat your rice." Sanji cut Gin off.
The cook stood up slowly, his back to Viktor. He pulled out a fresh cigarette and lit it. The flame flickered in the wind, illuminating his deep, resolute eye. He took a long breath, exhaled, and spoke without a hint of hesitation.
"...So what?"
Viktor raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Sanji turned around, looking through the smoke directly into Viktor's eerie eyes. "Hey, red-eyed brat. Do you know what the most terrifying thing on this ocean is? It's not bloodthirsty pirates, or the powerful Marines, or some unknown monster. It's hunger."
Painful memories flashed through Sanji's gaze. "The kind of pain where you'd throw away your dignity...
where your stomach feels like it's being eaten by acid...
where every second you pray for death...
A guy like you, standing there so calm and superior with that annoying smile... you've never felt it, have you?"
Viktor blinked, silenced for a moment.
Sanji flicked his ash. "As a chef, as long as someone appears before me hungry, they are a guest. I don't care if they're good or bad, a hero or scum, or even a wolf that bites... if they want to eat, I fill them up."
His gaze suddenly turned as sharp as a blade, his aura flaring. "As for whether that wolf wants to repay the favor or show its fangs once it's full... that's something to worry about after they've eaten!"
Sanji spat his cigarette onto the deck and crushed it under his polished shoe with lethal intent. "If that wolf really is stupid enough to try and bite my restaurant... then I'll just kick every single one of its teeth out myself!! That's how I do things. Got it, you red-eyed jerk?"
The sea breeze carried the scent of salt across the deck. Luffy's eyes were glowing with admiration. Viktor stared at the blonde man for a long time.
Then, the coldness on his face vanished, replaced by his usual smile—but this time, it held a genuine shred of respect.
"Ah... I stand corrected," Viktor said softly. He looked out at the horizon where the sea met the sky.
Indeed... even though he knew the "plot," the people in this world were made of flesh and blood, with their own convictions and iron wills.
They weren't just NPCs following a script. To judge them from a "God's eye view" and force his own "correctness" on them...
I was being a bit too arrogant, wasn't I? Viktor thought to himself.
He glanced at Gin, who was back to burying his face in the rice. Well, Chef. Since you've chosen to feed the wolf, I hope your leg is as hard as you say it is.
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