The Shimozuki family sure is full of talented people. Even skills like this?
Shano was a little surprised. He bent down, getting ready to tap the wooden leg to check its texture—but as soon as he squatted, his gaze met that of a certain curly-browed blond kid.
"Sha… Shano big bro!"
Sanji looked a little nervous and stammered,
"Thank you! That old geezer told me everything. If it weren't for you showing up in time, the two of us would've starved to death on that deserted island!"
What an adorable voice… is there a hidden Chopper inside him or something?
"I can't take all the credit." Shano smiled and patted the kid's head. "You made it through thanks to Uncle Zeff more than anything."
"I know."
Sanji nodded hard.
He only figured everything out after waking up at the clinic this morning. Right then and there, he clung to Zeff's broken leg and bawled his eyes out.
Zeff just laughed heartily and comforted him, saying there's no way he'd just sit by and let a kid with the same dream starve to death. That only made Sanji cry harder. He didn't calm down until right before they left.
"Uncle Zeff,"
Shano held the wooden leg and looked up, asking, "Seems like day-to-day activities are fine now. But what about fighting? Can you still use those kicking techniques?"
"Eh?" Zeff looked dumbfounded. "You… you knew about my past, benefactor?"
"Sure did." Shano clapped his hands and stood up. "Leader of the Chef Pirates—Red-Leg Zeff. You're pretty famous in the East Blue."
Actually, "pretty famous" didn't even cut it. Zeff had survived a whole year in the Grand Line and made it back in one piece—he was basically a hidden final boss.
Shano had even seen his bounty in the paper—50 million Berries. In East Blue, that was practically a one-of-a-kind legend.
"And you're still this calm? I'm a pirate, you know. Shouldn't you be scared or something?"
"Are you the kind of guy who'd betray someone who saved your life?" Shano gave him a puzzled look. "If not, then why would I be scared?"
Pirates had a pretty bad reputation among the general public.
But Shano, as someone who'd crossed into this world knowing the story, wasn't going to dumbly judge people just based on their affiliations.
In this era of rising pirates and clashing powers, using modern-day standards of morality just didn't work. Shano had a good impression of people from both the Marines and the pirates—and Zeff was definitely one of the good ones.
"…I see." Zeff paused, then suddenly realized—this benefactor of his didn't seem like an ordinary guy either.
He glanced around.
Koshiro was still smiling as usual, like nothing they said had fazed him at all.
So none of them are regular folks, huh… Zeff couldn't help but burst out laughing. Whatever tension he'd been carrying evaporated completely.
"As for the kicks… I can manage them, but the power's dropped a lot."
Zeff said cheerfully,
"With what I've got left, I can't make it in the Grand Line anymore. No more pirate stuff for me. But hey, maybe that's for the best—I'm getting old. Time to rest up."
But Shano still saw a flicker of sadness in his eyes. After thinking for a moment, he asked, "So what are you planning next?"
"Well… not sure yet."
Zeff looked toward the kids inside the dojo, all yelling and training hard. Then he suddenly turned to Koshiro.
"Say, Mr. Koshiro—does your dojo need a cook?"
"Hmm?"
Koshiro looked surprised and shook his head. "Can't afford a real cook. Up till now, Guina and I took turns cooking. Only in the last few years, when more kids started learning swordsmanship, we got the old lady next door to help out."
"How about letting me give it a shot?"
Zeff grinned. "Looks like no one's had breakfast yet. Let me show you what I can do!"
"You're still recovering. Isn't that a bit much…"
Koshiro reflexively tried to stop him, but Zeff waved him off and strode toward the kitchen. His booming voice echoed from the doorway:
"Curly-browed brat! Get over here and help out!"
"Coming!"
Sanji's eyes lit up and he rushed over.
What the heck… letting an injured guest do the cooking? Koshiro rubbed his forehead helplessly. Looking toward the dojo, he called out:
"Guina, Zoro—you two go help out as well."
"Yes, Father."
Guina nodded, set down her bamboo sword, and expressionlessly grabbed a certain green-haired boy—who was shouting and struggling, "I don't wanna!"—by the ear and dragged him toward the kitchen.
…
In the kitchen.
Zoro angrily chopped onions with a kitchen knife, wearing the kind of look you'd expect from someone owed five million Berries.
What the heck!
Interrupting my training to do chores like this?
"You're Zoro, right?"
Suddenly, a blond head popped up beside him—cheerful and friendly.
"Nice to meet you! I'm Sanji. I've worked as a professional chef on a passenger ship. If there's anything you're not sure about, feel free to ask me."
"'Feel free to ask me~~'"
Zoro mockingly repeated in a weird tone, "There's a ton I don't know, alright? Not everyone wants to waste their life in a place like this."
"Well, I love it." Sanji scratched his head and smiled brightly. "Cooking's one of the most fun things in the world, don't you think? Oh, right—"
He pointed at the onion Zoro had just massacred.
"There's a proper way to cut onions. First you trim the ends, then slice it in half and lay it flat like this, it's easier…"
"Shut up!"
Zoro yelled in frustration, turning to glare at him, "I don't want to hear your dumb chatter! And why does hearing you talk always make me feel like crying?!"
"That's the onion, not me…"
Sanji looked exasperated at Zoro's teary face.
"You can try breathing through your mouth, and keep a bowl of water next to the cutting board…"
"Still don't wanna hear it!"
Zoro roared, baring his sharp teeth. "Are you even a guy?! Or just a short-haired girl? What kind of man doesn't train with swords but knows all this cooking junk?!"
"Huh!?"
Sanji's eyes widened, flaring up as well.
"Who are you calling a girl?! Can't even chop onions right—you're not scared you'll chop your own hand swinging that sword around?"
"Feeling proud about cutting onions? Onions are the worst! Round and annoying—just like your eyebrows, makes me wanna puke!"
"What did you say?! You can't even tell salt from sugar, you damn green-haired vegetable!"
"You're a girly boy who waves a spatula ten times slower than my sword!"
"You single-celled meathead who thinks with his muscles!"
The two kids were nearly nose-to-nose, completely unaware of a dangerous presence approaching behind them.
"You two little brats…"
Zeff growled through clenched teeth, grabbing one ear with each hand,
"If you keep arguing in my kitchen, I'll cut you both up and make you today's main dish! Got that?!"
Thud!
One minute later.
Zoro and Sanji were both kneeling in front of the sink in perfect dogeza posture, quietly washing vegetables.
A bunch of lumps had sprouted on their heads, and smoke was slowly rising from them.