Chapter 29: The Green-Haired and the Yellow-Haired

The Shimotsuki family truly is full of talented people; they even have this kind of craftsmanship?

Shano was somewhat surprised. He leaned down, intending to tap the wooden leg to test its quality, but as he crouched, he found himself locking eyes with a certain curly-eyebrowed blonde brat.

"Sha... Shano-nii!"

Sanji was a little nervous, stuttering, "Thank you! The old geezer already told me everything. If you hadn't arrived in time, we both would have starved to death on that desert island!"

What an adorable voice... is there a Chopper hiding in there?

"I can't take all the credit." Shano smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair. "You should thank Uncle Zeff for your survival."

"I know." Sanji nodded vigorously.

He had only grasped the situation after waking up in the infirmary that morning, and he had spent the time since then bawling while clutching Zeff’s stump. Zeff, however, had just laughed and comforted him, asking how he could have stood by and watched a kid with shared dreams starve to death, which only made Sanji cry even harder until he finally calmed down just before leaving.

"Uncle Zeff," Shano said, gripping the wooden leg as he looked up, "it seems your daily mobility isn't affected, but what about combat? Can you still perform those kicking techniques of yours?"

"Eh?" Zeff looked dumbfounded. "Benefactor, so you... you knew my true identity?"

"I did." Shano stood up, clapping his hands. "Captain of the Cook Pirates, 'Red-Leg' Zeff. You’re quite famous in the East Blue."

In truth, "famous" was an understatement. For Zeff to have ventured into the Grand Line for a year and returned to the East Blue unscathed meant he was effectively a hidden boss. Shano had seen his wanted poster in the newspaper: 50 million berries, a tier of his own in the East Blue.

"And you’re still this calm? I’m a pirate. Shouldn't you be afraid?"

"Are you the type of person to return kindness with betrayal?" Shano looked at him curiously. "If not, why should I be afraid?"

Pirates certainly had a terrible reputation among the general public. However, as someone who knew the story, Shano wasn't foolish enough to blindly categorize everyone by their faction. In this turbulent Great Pirate Era, one couldn't judge people strictly by the moral standards of his past life. There were people he respected among both the Marines and the pirates, and Zeff was undoubtedly one of them.

"This..." Zeff paused, suddenly realizing that the young benefactor who had saved him was no simple character.

He looked around. Koushiro was still smiling, as if the revelation hadn't affected him in the slightest.

So, none of them are ordinary people... Zeff couldn't help but burst into hearty laughter, and the faint sense of restraint he had felt finally vanished completely.

"As for kicking, I can manage, but the power is greatly diminished!" Zeff said candidly. "With what I have left, I wouldn't survive in the Grand Line. I can't be a pirate anymore, but that's fine. I’m old enough; it’s time to rest for a while."

Still, Shano caught a flicker of gloom in his eyes. After a moment of contemplation, he asked, "Do you have any plans for the future?"

"That... I’m not sure." Zeff watched the kids training in the dojo and suddenly asked, "Tell me, Mr. Koushiro, does your dojo need a cook?"

"Hmm?" Koushiro looked surprised and shook his head. "How could we afford to hire a cook? Kuina and I have always taken turns with the meals. It’s only because the number of students learning swordsmanship has grown these past few years that the elderly woman next door has started coming over to help."

"How about you let me try?" Zeff gave a cheeky grin. "Since everyone hasn't had breakfast yet, let me show you what I can do!"

"You're still recovering, that wouldn't be appropriate..." Koushiro instinctively tried to dissuade him, but Zeff waved his hand and strode toward the kitchen. Once inside, his booming voice echoed out: "Curly-browed brat! Come help me!"

"Coming!" Sanji’s eyes lit up as he rushed over.

What is this? How could he let an injured guest cook? Koushiro sighed helplessly, looked into the dojo, and instructed, "Kuina, Zoro, you two go and help as well."

"Yes, Father." Kuina nodded, set aside her bamboo sword, and expressionlessly grabbed the ear of a certain little green-haired boy who was struggling and shouting, "I don't want to!" She dragged him toward the kitchen.

...

In the kitchen, Zoro was grumpily hacking away at an onion, his expression as sour as if someone owed him five million berries.

What the hell! Interrupting his training to make him do chores!

"You’re Zoro, right?" A blonde head popped up next to him, friendly and enthusiastic. "Nice to meet you, I’m Sanji. I’ve worked as a professional chef in a passenger ship’s galley, so you can ask me if there’s anything you don't know how to do."

"Anything you don't know how to do..." Zoro repeated sarcastically. "Well, there's plenty I don't know, since not everyone likes spending their time in a place like this."

"I love it, though." Sanji scratched his head, grinning brightly. "Cooking is one of the most interesting things in the world, don't you think? Oh, right—" He pointed at the mangled onion under Zoro's blade. "There’s a technique to cutting onions, too. Remove the top and bottom, cut it in half horizontally, and then turn it; it makes it easier to..."

"Shut up!" Zoro snapped, turning his head to roar, "I don't want to hear this nonsense! And why does hearing you talk make me want to cry?!"

"That’s because of the onion, not me..." Sanji looked speechless as he watched Zoro, who was now weeping profusely. "Look, you can try breathing slowly through your mouth, or put a bowl of water next to the cutting board..."

"Still don't want to hear it!" Zoro bared his teeth and shouted. "Are you a man or what? Or are you just some girl who just got a short haircut? How can a man not be focused on training his swordsmanship and instead know so much about this kind of stuff!"

"Huh?" Sanji’s eyes widened, his temper flaring. "Who are you calling a girl? Someone who can't even cut an onion properly—aren't you afraid you'll accidentally kill yourself when you swing a sword?"

"You're acting smug just because you can cut an onion? I hate onions! All those layers and circles—they’re as nauseating as your eyebrows!"

"What did you say?! You green-haired vegetable who can't even tell salt from sugar in a kitchen!"

"You sissy who swings a spatula ten times slower than I swing a sword!"

"You single-celled organism that thinks with your muscles!"

The two kids were almost forehead-to-forehead, completely unaware of the dangerous figure slowly creeping up behind them.

"You two brats..." Zeff gritted his teeth, grabbing one ear in each hand. "If you keep arguing in my kitchen, I’ll chop you both into pieces and make you today’s main course! Do you hear me?!"

*Thump!*

One minute later, Zoro and Sanji were kneeling obediently in front of the sink in a *dogeza* position, washing vegetables, with bumps rising on their heads and steam drifting from them.