The hearts of everyone inside Baratie throbbed violently along with the intense vibration.
Ryoma's movement as he sat back down in his original spot didn't pause for a second, as if he were completely uninterested in the commotion and the person who had crashed onto the deck.
At the kitchen entrance, Sanji held a tray of desserts, his hands trembling uncontrollably.
He looked at the tall figure who had descended from the sky wearing a Justice coat, then at Ryoma, who sat calmly as if none of this concerned him, feeling an unprecedented shock to his soul.
He took a deep breath to force himself to calm down and walked toward Ryoma with somewhat stiff steps.
"Guest... your dessert."
Sanji placed two exquisitely presented caramel puddings in front of Ryoma, then lowered his voice and added a sentence as quickly as possible, "The old man said... the surrounding waters have already been surrounded by warships."
Ryoma picked up a small silver spoon and gave Sanji a slight nod of thanks, acknowledging the warning.
He lightly tapped the caramel crust on the surface of the pudding with the back of the spoon.
Crack.
The crisp sound of cracking spread through the dead-silent restaurant, eerily clear.
Everyone caught this tiny sound and then instinctively cast their eyes toward the figure outside the window.
Just then, Zeff walked silently from the kitchen entrance to the center of the restaurant. His wooden prosthetic leg made a dull, rhythmic thumping sound as it stepped on the floor.
"Everyone."
Zeff looked around at the diners, who were already pale with fright.
"Today's business is ending early. The restaurant will cover all expenses for all guests, you may all leave by boat directly."
As soon as he finished speaking, the diners were stunned for a moment before erupting into a commotion as if they had survived a disaster. Not daring to make too much noise, they frantically grabbed their belongings and scrambled toward the restaurant's exit.
When passing Ryoma's table, everyone subconsciously held their breath, treading very lightly and taking a wide detour, fearing they might disturb the confrontation between this "Death God" and the other individual.
A chef, watching the chaotic crowd, couldn't help but lean in toward Zeff and ask with great concern, "Boss, are we... aren't we leaving together? That's the Marine Hero, Garp."
Zeff blew out a thick ring of smoke, the haze blurring his serious face.
"Idiot." He cursed under his breath.
"If that old man really wanted to tear this place down, where do you think we could escape to?"
His sharp gaze flicked toward the figure by the window who was leisurely scooping pudding with a spoon.
"Besides... someone will pay sufficient compensation."
The young chef followed his gaze and shut his mouth completely.
Garp stood tall and used the ship's railing to leap again, his movements so agile he didn't seem like an old man at all.
In mid-air, he even had the leisure to pull a bag of rice crackers from his coat, grabbing a piece and stuffing it into his mouth with a "crunch, crunch" sound.
His iconic Marine Justice coat was completely unbuttoned, revealing his sturdy chest, while the word "Justice" on the back fluttered in the sea breeze.
His first action upon landing wasn't to look at Ryoma, but to sniff his nose forcefully.
Garp's eyes lit up instantly.
"It's the smell of seafood risotto. And the charred aroma of Papanic Grilled Fish. Kyahahaha! It seems I have come to the right place."
Just then, a series of urgent "Bulu Bulu" sounds rang out from his chest.
Then, a small Den Den Mushi wearing a Marine Fleet Admiral's hat poked its head out from his open coat, continuously spraying spittle.
"Garp! You bastard! I told you to go handle things, where have you run off to again?!"
Sengoku's roar, distorted by anger, exploded from the Den Den Mushi's mouth.
Garp slowly pulled out the poor Den Den Mushi and shouted back at it, "Hah?! What did you say? The wind is too strong here! Bad signal! Hello?"
Having said that, he didn't give the other party a chance to speak again, pressing his large hand onto the head of the Den Den Mushi and the world became instantly quiet.
He casually stuffed the Den Den Mushi back into his coat, grinned to reveal a row of bright white teeth, and strode into the restaurant, heading straight for Ryoma.
"Yo!"
Garp gave a cheerful greeting, his massive figure casting a large shadow.
"We meet again, frost boy."
Ryoma had just finished the last bite of the sweet and smooth pudding and set down his spoon with satisfaction.
He looked up at this legendary Marine Hero. "I say, old man, your way of making an entrance is truly unique."
Ryoma's tone betrayed no emotion. "The little things I've done shouldn't be enough to trouble you to come and catch me yourself, should they?"
"Kyahahahahaha!"
Garp let out a burst of deafening laughter and, without invitation, dragged over an empty chair and sat down heavily across from Ryoma.
"I followed the scent. Whether I catch you or not is one thing, but a meal must be eaten."
He yelled toward the kitchen at the top of his lungs, "Boss! Give me the same dish this kid just had!"
At the kitchen entrance, Zeff's face was incredibly dark, but he didn't lose his temper, simply gesturing coldly to the stunned Sanji to go and prepare it.
Garp's gaze fell upon the particularly conspicuous Bounty Poster on the table, printed with the number 180 million.
"Oh? It's risen to this amount already?"
He muttered a sentence and suddenly reached out, so fast he left an afterimage, grabbing toward Ryoma.
"Let me have a good look."
Although this grab carried no killing intent, its speed and power were enough to ensure that 99% of pirates wouldn't be able to react.
Ryoma's body, however, eerily shifted backward. Beneath his chair, a layer of tiny ice tracks, almost invisible to the naked eye, instantly froze and then melted, sliding him back half a meter. This allowed him to avoid the grab and even skillfully dissipate the impact that might have followed.
Almost simultaneously, the air temperature within a three-meter radius centered on the table between them suddenly dropped by at least five degrees. An invisible chill spread out, yet it was precisely controlled within this small circle, not affecting the kitchen or other areas further away.
Garp's hand, having caught nothing, stopped in mid-air. He slowly raised his head, his eyes, which always held a hint of cynicism, narrowing slightly as a sharp glint flashed through them.
"Oh?"
He withdrew his hand, casually scratched his short gray hair, and grinned.
"I didn't see that coming. Kid, you actually have such a slippery move."
Ryoma controlled the chair to slide silently back to its original position and sat upright, shrugging with composure.
"You flatter me, old man. After being beaten enough times, one naturally learns how to dodge."
He said this nonchalantly, but it made Zeff, who was eavesdropping, feel a chill in his heart.
What kind of existence could make this monster use the words "being beaten"?
The smile on Garp's face grew even wider as he suddenly threw a punch without any warning. This punch was not infused with any Haki, it was purely an explosion of physical strength, but the fierce wind pressure it generated let out a sharp howl, causing the surviving tableware on neighboring tables to clatter and tumble to the floor.
Facing this sudden punch, Ryoma reacted immediately, lightly tapping the tabletop in front of him.
A ring of extremely thin yet incredibly tough ice rose from the edge of the table. The Ice Wall had a clever curve. Instead of choosing to block head-on, it guided the violent wind of the punch to deflect sharply upward.
Boom!
The wind from the punch brushed past the top of Ryoma's head and slammed heavily into the restaurant's ceiling. A chandelier exploded on impact, glass shards and wood chips raining down.