A cook, vice-captain of the Rocks Pirates?

As if to confirm his words, an indescribable, domineering aroma, a blend of rich meaty fragrance and fresh sea salt scent, drifted in from the direction of the ancestral giant tortoise in the distance without warning, precisely entering the nostrils of everyone.

Glug...

A loud, thunderous sound of swallowing saliva came simultaneously from the throats of Karp and Newgate.

The two figures, who had been colliding like demons, suddenly stopped and looked toward the source of the fragrance.

"Gurgle gurgle gurgle... Looks like it's time to eat."

Newgate sheathed his naginata and grinned.

"Damn it! It's always like this!"

Garp withdrew his fist, rubbing his rumbling stomach, a childlike expression of dissatisfaction on his face: "You're the ship's cook, your cooking always smells so good!"

A fierce battle was abruptly ended because of a meal.

"Hahaha! I'm not fighting anymore!"

Garp plopped down on the ground, waving his hand. He looked nothing like a naval hero; he resembled a street thug who had just finished a fight and was heading home for dinner.

"I'm on vacation recently, so let's not talk about business, just food and drink!"

He looked at Newgate, his eyes flashing with a complex light that seemed to be both friend and foe.

Over the years, they have fought countless times, each time wishing they could kill the other, but each time it ended inconclusively for various reasons.

They are enemies, rivals, but at the same time, they are also the people who understand each other best on this vast ocean.

After so many years, those grudges and affections seem to have faded a lot with the passage of time.

After a fight, sitting down for a drink and a chat seems like a good option.

"Gulalalalala, you think you can mooch a meal off my boat? Not so easy."

Although Newgate said that, he still winked at Marco, who was not far away.

Marco understood immediately. He walked up to Garp and gestured for him to enter: "Mr. Garp, please. Our captain said there will be plenty of food for dinner tonight."

Chapter 273 Cook a dish for Garp

"Hahaha! Then this old man won't be polite!"

Garp laughed as he stood up, dusted himself off, and actually swaggered off toward the Primordial Giant Turtle.

The naval attendants behind him were dumbfounded. They wanted to stop him but didn't dare, and could only follow behind with long faces, feeling that their worldview was being ruthlessly overturned.

A naval hero is going to have dinner on his nemesis's ship?

If this gets out, the entire Navy Headquarters will probably be in an uproar.

The Whitebeard Pirates were used to this. They followed behind, laughing and joking, surrounding the two legends who had just been fighting to the death, and headed towards their dining table.

The scene was less like a meeting of arch-rivals and more like a group of old friends getting together for barbecue after playing basketball.

However, when Karp's enormous figure stepped onto the back of the progenitor tortoise, feeling the vibrant land beneath his feet and the invigorating fragrance in the air, even he was momentarily stunned.

"Newgate, you're really getting better and better at enjoying life!"

He looked around, filled with curiosity about this moving land.

The twin divine trees radiating a seven-colored halo, the small lake flowing with the elixir of life, and the strangely shaped plants in the vegetable garden all amazed him.

"What's the big deal?"

Newgate crossed his arms, his face beaming with undisguised pride.

However, Garp's next move once again surprised everyone.

Instead of walking straight to Newgate's throne to sit down and drink with his old rival as everyone expected, he simply sniffed the air and then, like a hunting dog that had locked onto its target, walked straight in one direction.

That direction leads directly to Ryan's kitchen.

"Hey! Where are you going? The dining table is over there!"

Gatz pointed to the huge dining table in the center of the deck, which was already filled with all kinds of delicious food, and exclaimed in confusion.

Karp ignored him, his steps firm and filled with longing.

He walked through the cheering crowd, around the huge dining table, and finally stopped in front of the young man who was quietly wearing an apron and preparing to serve the last soup.

Karp stared intently at Renn, his gaze not that of someone looking at a chef, but more like that of someone looking at a priceless treasure lost for many years.

"Hey kid, long time no see."

Karp's voice was loud and clear, filled with an unquestionable tone.

Raine calmly raised her head, met his gaze, and nodded: "Long time no see."

"Ha ha ha ha……"

Garp slapped his thigh hard, a bright, almost fawning smile spreading across his face.

"I've been curious about your cooking for a long time! They all say your cooking can make even the gods weep! They say your culinary skills are enough to change a war!"

"I've dealt with that bastard Newgate for so many years and suffered so many losses. Today, I'm going to get some interest back from you no matter what!"

Karp's voice was full of self-righteousness.

"Quick! Make me a dish too! It has to be the kind that... makes people want to uphold justice to the very end after eating it!"

This shocking and highly personal ordering statement left everyone present, including Newgate, frozen in place, instantly drawing all eyes to him and Ryan.

The air was filled with the aroma of roasting meat and a peculiar smell called awkwardness.

"Pfft... Wahahahahaha!"

Gatz was the first to burst out laughing.

He laughed so hard he was bent over, tears welling up in his eyes. He slammed the huge anchor onto the deck with a loud thud that made Dorum's heart tremble.

"This guy...did he get his head stuck in a door? What did he just say? He asked the head chef to cook him a special dish? And the kind that...makes people uphold justice?"

"This requirement... is really simple and straightforward, and full of naval characteristics, yoi."

Marco lazily picked at his ear, his face showing an expression of utter disbelief.

Dorum took out his notebook and quickly took notes.

"Record: Naval hero Monkey D. Garp is suspected of suffering from severe cognitive impairment due to brain malnutrition caused by long-term consumption of senbei (rice crackers). Humanitarian isolation treatment is recommended to prevent his foolish remarks from polluting the precious air on our ship."

The smile on Newgate's face vanished, replaced by a cold, gloomy look, like the calm before a storm.

How long has it been since he's seen such an arrogant and foolish fellow?

Ordering food directly from the head chef in front of the captain? And ordering such bizarre dishes?

This is no longer a provocation, this is blatant disregard!

"Garp! You bastard!"

Newgate's voice was deep, carrying an anger that could make the ocean tremble.

However, Karp seemed completely oblivious to Newgate's anger; his eyes remained bright as he stared at Ryan, looking just like a fervent fan waiting for his idol's autograph.

"So, buddy! Want to do it?"

Garp's tone even carried a hint of urging: "My stomach can't wait to taste the divine cuisine!"

Raine did not answer immediately; he calmly looked at the naval hero with the peculiar style before him.

He could smell an incredibly pure scent emanating from Garp.

It was a flavor that blended sunshine, sea breeze, scallop crumbs, and the purest, unadulterated taste of free will.

This flavor is, for him as a chef, the absolute best and most perfect ingredient, and also... the most discerning diner.

"can."

Ryan finally spoke, calmly uttering two words.

This answer not only stunned the members of the Whitebeard Pirates, but even Newgate was somewhat surprised.

"Raine?"

"captain."

Ryan turned his head and nodded slightly to Newgate, his eyes calm yet full of confidence: "It's alright, it's just a dish."

He paused, his gaze returning to Garp, a subtle smile playing on his lips—a smile only a top gourmet could decipher.

"However, my dishes are very expensive."

"Expensive? Hahaha! I have no money!"

Karp patted his empty pockets with a self-righteous air.

I wasn't talking about money.

Renn shook his head and pointed to Karp's weathered but still powerful iron fists.

"I want a promise from you."

"promise?"

"Yes."

Raine's tone remained calm, yet carried an undeniable power.

"If my cooking satisfies you, someday in the future, when I need it, I hope you can use these iron fists that have protected countless civilians to do something for me."

This requirement caused everyone present to gasp in shock.

Demand a promise from the naval hero? Or use his most prized iron fist?

This chef is even bolder than the food he makes!

Chapter 274 This dish, I call Guardian

Karp looked at Ryan, and for the first time, a sharp light flashed in his eyes, which always seemed somewhat sleepy. He fell silent.

He could tell that the young man in front of him was not joking.

It was an equal, even somewhat condescending, transaction.

"Hahaha! Interesting! You little rascal, you're really interesting!"

After a long while, Garp burst into hearty laughter again. He patted his chest and shouted, "Alright! I promise you! As long as your dishes are really that amazing, I'll do anything, even demolish the Celestial Dragons' holy land!"

"make a deal."

Renn nodded, took off his apron, and put on a brand new, spotless one.

Then, in front of everyone, he turned around and walked back to his sacred kitchen.

It was as if the deal that had just occurred, which concerned the world's future, was merely a minor episode before he decided on the dinner menu.

On the deck, the members of the Whitebeard Pirates looked at each other, and finally, all eyes were on Newgate.

Newgate looked at the closed kitchen door, then at Garp beside him who was rubbing his hands together expectantly, and finally sighed helplessly before sitting back down on his throne.

"Gurarararar... What are you all standing there for! Let's eat!"

Although the main course we were most looking forward to had been booked, the banquet still had to go on.

However, everyone seemed a little distracted, their eyes frequently drifting towards the kitchen, wondering what kind of astonishing dish the head chef would present to this legendary naval hero.

There were no earth-shattering phenomena in the kitchen, nor did they emit any extraordinary or shocking aromas.

Ryan prepared the ingredients at a leisurely pace, just like preparing a simple home-cooked meal.

Instead of choosing those legendary ingredients that contain enormous energy, he took out some of the most common and simplest things from the storage room.

A piece of firm-fleshed sea fish, freshly caught from the waters near the windmill village.

Several freshly picked potatoes and onions, still fragrant with the scent of soil, from the vegetable garden on the back of the ancestral giant tortoise.

And a small handful of the most ordinary sea salt, dried in the sunshine of the East China Sea.

He carefully deboned and removed the bones from the fish, then marinated it using the simplest methods.

Cut potatoes and onions into evenly sized chunks, put them in water and boil them to extract their original sweetness.

His every movement was full of focus, as if he were not cooking, but having a conversation with the ingredients.