C22 Sanji Began to Reflect on Himself

Sanji had never expected Lin Mo to come looking for him.

And to top it off, the encounter had led to him breaking a plate...

That really set him off.

"Hey! What's your deal?" Sanji grumbled, "Because of you, I've got a broken plate on my hands!"

Lin Mo chuckled, "Did I personally smash it?"

Sanji paused, his lips twisting in annoyance, "No, but..."

Lin Mo pressed, "Then how is it my problem?"

"Eh?" Sanji, realizing he was at fault, begrudgingly let the frustration simmer down. "Damn it! Everyone's always picking on me. Those rotten chefs do, that cranky old man does, and now even you, an outsider, are doing the same. Mark my words, one day I'll make all of you see me differently!"

Just then, Patty barged into the kitchen, fuming, and griping as he went, "The nerve of that broke guy, coming to Barati to eat—he's got no fear!"

The busy chefs burst into laughter.

"Patty, you threw someone out the back door again, huh?"

"Hahaha, classic Patty move."

Hearing about Patty tossing out a penniless man, Sanji's dishwashing came to a halt.

Lin Mo observed him with a detached gaze.

He knew Sanji well enough to guess that the young man would surely sneak some food to those who couldn't afford a meal.

Sanji simply couldn't stand by and watch someone go hungry.

Sure enough.

Sanji stealthily grabbed two loaves of bread and a bottle of milk.

Catching Lin Mo's eye, he signaled for silence with a gesture.

Then, while Patty and the others were distracted, he slipped out of the kitchen.

Lin Mo trailed behind him.

Sanji made his way to the back deck.

There, a gaunt man lay in utter despair.

Without a word, Sanji set the bread and milk down beside him.

"Eat," Sanji urged, sitting down and fixing his gaze on the man.

The man weakly glanced at Sanji, his hands shaking as he grabbed the bread and milk and devoured them with a desperate hunger.

Once he finished, he turned to Sanji, tears streaming down his face, "Thank you, thank you so much. I thought I was going to starve to death out here on the open sea."

Sanji flashed a grin and asked, "Feels pretty good to have a bite to eat, huh?"

The man nodded with a smile, "Yeah, for the first time, I realize how having food is such a blessing. I can't thank you enough."

"No thanks needed," Sanji replied. "Food is nature's gift to us. Just promise me that even when you're well-off in the future, you won't waste any food."

"Alright, I promise!"

"Good." Sanji nodded and turned to head back.

As he descended the spiral staircase,

Lin Mo was leaning against the wall on the second floor.

Watching Sanji walk by, he remarked, "Hot food always beats stale bread, doesn't it?"

Sanji froze in his steps.

Lin Mo's words pierced his heart like a dagger.

"Hey! What do you know?" Sanji retorted, his anger rising. "I want to cook for those who are hungry too, but I'm terrible at it! That stubborn old man refuses to teach me, and it's frustrating!"

"Hmph," Lin Mo let out a cold laugh.

Sanji was fuming, teeth clenched. "You're mocking me, aren't you? What gives you the right?"

"With your understanding, why would Zeff bother to teach you?"

"What!" Sanji shook with rage. "Looking for a fight, are you?"

Without another word, Sanji lunged at Lin Mo, throwing a punch.

Lin Mo sidestepped smoothly.

Sanji's fist hit the wooden wall behind Lin Mo, and he hopped in place, wincing in pain.

Lin Mo was at a loss for words.

It looked like the kid hadn't even begun to learn the Leg Technique...

And he was still using his hands to fight?

A chef's hands are for cooking.

A great chef fights with his legs.

Zeff did.

And so would the future Sanji.

It's just that his realization was coming along too slowly.

As Lin Mo looked on with a mix of disdain and insight, a lightbulb went off in his head.

Maybe this was the breakthrough he needed for his sign-in task!

With that thought...

Lin Mo asked, "Do your hands hurt?"

Sanji snapped back, "What do you think? Of course, they hurt!"

Lin Mo chuckled and then asked, "Ever wonder why Zeff won't teach you to cook?"

Sanji paused, then huffed, "How would anyone know what goes on in that old man's head? You're an outsider; don't pretend you understand why."

"I know."

"Ah?" Sanji couldn't believe his ears. "Are you kidding me? You've barely met the guy. How could you possibly know?"

"What's your dream?"

"Hey, hey, what's with the question?" Sanji grumbled but still gave Lin Mo a straight answer. "I aim to outdo that old geezer. And after he's gone, I'll set sail in search of All Blue."

All Blue was the place Sanji longed for, where the four seas converged, rumored to hold every ingredient from all the oceans—a haven every chef aspired to reach. Sanji's eyes sparkled at the mere mention of All Blue.

Lin Mo, however, responded with a nonchalant "Oh."

His casual remark snapped Sanji back to the present. "What's with the half-hearted response?"

"People who do nothing but gripe all day, what claim do they have to their dreams?"

"What? You jerk! You don't know a thing!" Sanji's fists tightened as he took another swing at Lin Mo.

This time, Lin Mo stood his ground. "Hands are a chef's most prized tools. If you injure them, what will you do—cook with your feet?"

Sanji's punch halted mere inches from Lin Mo's face.

With a slight smirk, Lin Mo continued, "Someone who can't muster the effort has no business talking about dreams."

With that, Lin Mo stepped aside, ready to explore Barati and get to know the lay of the land. He had said his piece.

Sanji wasn't slow on the uptake, at least that's what Lin Mo believed. He'd grasp the meaning soon enough.

Sanji glanced at his hands, then at the receding figure of Lin Mo, and couldn't help but ask, "What were you trying to tell me with all that?"

Without looking back, Lin Mo replied coolly, "Figure it out yourself."

Dumbfounded, Sanji watched Lin Mo walk away, then gazed at his hands once more. Memories flooded back. He realized he'd never actually seen Zeff, that stinky old man, use his hands in a fight. Whenever there was trouble or a lesson needed delivering to the erring kitchen staff, Zeff's feet were his weapon of choice!

Absolutely!

A chef's hands are their lifeblood!

How could I ever use them to fight?

Sanji balled his hands into fists, his voice brimming with resolve, "That's it, I've made up my mind. Starting now, I'm done fighting with my hands!"

After his declaration, he pondered the other words Lin Mo had spoken.

Just a guy who does nothing but complain and can't muster the effort...

Is that really who I am?

But I've been working my tail off, haven't I?

For months, I've diligently scrubbed dishes and cleaned the bathrooms at Barati's—how is that not trying?

Ugh...

Hold on!

A jolt of realization struck him.

Sweat beaded on Sanji's forehead.

"Ah, what on earth have I been doing all these months!"