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"Huh? Who's that old man?" Satori asked, looking up with a puff of steak in his cheek.
Nami scrutinized the man on the balcony—the extra-tall hat, the braided mustaches, and the prosthetic leg. A guess formed in her mind. This must be the owner, the legendary "Red-Leg" Zeff.
"You old geezer, what do you mean you don't need me?" Sanji snapped, biting his cigarette. "I'm the Sous-chef here!"
"So what? There are plenty of cooks. After you leave, someone can easily replace you," Zeff said bluntly. He had watched from the shadows as Sanji swooned over Nami, and he had heard the duo's sincere invitation. He knew Sanji had spent years tethered to this floating restaurant, unable to chase the dream of the All Blue.
To Zeff, Sanji was a son. It pained him to think of him leaving, but it pained him more to see Sanji waste his vibrant youth in a kitchen, never seeing the world's splendor. So, he chose the only language Sanji understood: insults.
"What good are you? You fawn over every woman and your cooking is terrible. You're completely dispensable. Go with them and save me the eyesore."
Sanji's forehead pulsed with veins. "You old geezer! Say what you want, but don't you dare belittle my cooking! I'm staying here forever!" He turned to storm upstairs to settle the score with Zeff, but Satori's clear, innocent voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Um, Sanji, is your cooking really that bad?"
Sanji spun around, his jaw dropping. Satori was looking at him with pure, simple curiosity. Behind him, Nami was frantically trying to cover Satori's mouth, offering an awkward, "he-doesn't-know-what-he's-saying" smile.
Sanji froze for two seconds, his impending rage hitting a brick wall. He walked back to the table, snatched the menu, and asked gruffly, "Is this what you're ordering?"
"Yes," Nami nodded quickly. "The steak. We'll have... fifty portions."
"Fifty?!" Sanji blinked.
"Don't let his size fool you," Nami warned. "He's a monster."
"Fine," Sanji grumbled. "You wait here. I'll let you personally experience my 'terrible' cooking." As a proud chef, he couldn't let a doubt like that linger.
Once Sanji disappeared into the kitchen, Nami delivered a sharp chop to Satori's head.
"Satori! That was so offensive! You don't ask a chef if his food is bad!"
"But the old man said it first," Satori rubbed his head, pouting.
"That old man was clearly trying to provoke him," Nami sighed. But why? She looked up, but Zeff had already vanished.
Soon, Sanji returned, pushing a cart stacked with sizzling plates. "Your steaks."
Satori's eyes turned into saucers. Drool pooled at the corner of his mouth. "Wow! It looks delicious!" He didn't bother with a knife or fork. He grabbed a whole steak and stuffed it in his mouth, swallowing it in two seconds. "So delicious! Sanji, your food is great! Why did the old man lie?"
Sanji, stunned by the speed of Satori's eating, lit a cigarette. "Who knows what that old geezer is thinking."
Nami took a bite and her eyes widened. "This is easily the best food I've ever had."
Hearing the compliment, Sanji's composure vanished. Hearts replaced his eyes as he leaned over the table. "Miss Nami's praise is a sweet spring for my parched soul! I am so happy!"
Nami sighed. I shouldn't have said that.
"Sanji," Satori mumbled through a mouthful of meat, "can you really not join us? I want to eat this every day!"
Sanji's expression softened, but he shook his head, exhaling a puff of smoke. "No. I won't leave. I have more of your order to finish. Enjoy."
As he walked away, Satori looked at Nami. "Why won't he come?"
"He has a reason to stay," Nami said, shrugging. It looked like their search for a third companion would continue.
As Satori continued his mountain-sized meal, the surrounding nobles began to whisper.
"How uncivilized," a woman tutted, covering her child's eyes. "Don't ever eat like that, Christine."
"A starving ghost," a nobleman sneered. "What a vulgar family he must have."
The murmurs grew louder until Nami slammed her fork down. She stood up, hands on hips, and roared at the room. "What are you all staring at?! Haven't you seen someone enjoy a meal before? Mind your own business!"
The nobles grumbled and looked away, intimidated by the "vulgar woman." Nami sat back down, fuming. "Satori, aren't you mad at them?"
Satori looked up, blinking innocently. "No. Why should I be?"
Nami smiled helplessly. "You're right. Getting angry at them is a waste of time."
Just then, a woman sitting by the window screamed, her face turning paper-white.
"PIRATES! PIRATES ARE HERE!!"