The Whitebeard Pirates were founded by Edward Newgate, the man known as "Whitebeard," wielder of the most powerful Paramecia-type Devil Fruit, the Tremor-Tremor Fruit.
At this point in time, the Whitebeard Pirates were arguably the most powerful pirate crew in the world.
Lucas Moore remembered that their main ship had a whale figurehead carved onto its bow.
But the vessel currently approaching Baratie was only a light sailing ship.
Judging by its size and build, it likely carried one of Whitebeard's division commanders.
The only question was which one.
Lucas withdrew his gaze. There was no need to dwell on it. He turned and made his way toward the stairs.
Downstairs, the once-bustling restaurant had fallen into dead silence.
All the customers who had been dining earlier had fled in a panic.
Zeff, along with the chef who had run to inform him, now stood face-to-face with Krieg and his men.
Behind Krieg, in addition to his usual band of underlings, stood a woman.
She was the same one who had arrogantly taunted Sanji the day before.
Just as Lucas had expected.
Krieg's eyes widened the moment he laid eyes on Zeff.
"It's you! You're that legendary pirate captain who once sailed as a chef the unbeatable pirate Red-Leg Zeff! I heard you died in a shipwreck. Never imagined you'd still be alive!"
Zeff narrowed his eyes, letting out a cold chuckle. "So what if I'm alive? That has nothing to do with you. I'm just a chef now, making a living in the kitchen."
Krieg froze for a beat before breaking into laughter. His face, already long and narrow, looked even more like a monkey's when he laughed.
"Hahaha! That's a good one. Saying you 'make a living as a chef' sounds noble, but let's be real it just means being a chef is all you're good for now."
He glanced at Zeff's prosthetic leg, a cruel grin curling on his lips. "Back when you were whole, maybe I would've been cautious around you. But now you've lost a leg, and with it, your fighting power. You're no threat to me."
"And what of it?" Zeff's expression darkened. "I'm not a pirate anymore. But I still have these hands. If you've got something to say, say it."
Krieg smirked. "Red-Leg Zeff, you're one of the few men who entered the Grand Line and returned alive. You must've kept a logbook of that year at sea. Hand it over, and I'll let you all walk away."
"Hmph!" Zeff snorted coldly. "You're right, I do have a logbook. But I won't give it to you. That log is the pride of every crew member who sailed with me. Handing it to you would be a disgrace."
Krieg's face darkened. He clenched his fists. "Then I'll just take it by force!"
Just as the words left his mouth, a relaxed male voice echoed from the restaurant's entrance.
"Man, we finally spot a floating restaurant and think we'll get a nice dinner, but I guess we showed up at the wrong time."
A tall, lean man stepped into view. He wore a golden punk-style haircut, a dagger at his waist, and the tattoo of the Whitebeard Pirates inked across his chest. Several subordinates followed behind him.
Lucas recognized him instantly.
It was Marco the Pineapple, the "Undying Flame" of the Whitebeard Pirates.
The undisputed second-in-command under Whitebeard himself.
Krieg, irritated, turned to glance toward the door.
When his eyes landed on the tattoo across Marco's chest, he froze.
That mark… it looked familiar...
"Hey! Can't you see our boss is handling things here?" one of Krieg's men barked at Marco's group. "This isn't dinner time for you. Get lost!"
"You might want to watch your mouth," one of Marco's men shot back, ready to argue further, but Marco raised a hand to stop him.
"Don't waste your breath on people who don't know what they're dealing with," Marco said with a wry smile, rubbing his chin. "Been a long time since anyone told me to 'get lost.' Must be ten years or more."
"You've got a big mouth. Boss, want us to take care of them?" Krieg's men cracked their knuckles and signaled to one another, preparing to attack.
At that moment, Zeff let out a small laugh.
Krieg scowled. "What are you laughing at?"
Zeff shot him a mocking look. "So this is the mighty Krieg Pirates, the most active crew in the East Blue? You've got guts, I'll give you that even daring to mess with the Whitebeard Pirates."
"What? Whitebeard?" Krieg finally connected the dots. That tattoo… it was the Whitebeard Pirates' emblem.
Damn it.
Whitebeard was not someone he could afford to cross right now.
He quickly turned and shouted, "Everyone, stop!"
But it was already too late.
His underlings had already drawn their weapons and charged at Marco's group.
"You're really something else," Marco said casually. "Picking on people who haven't even eaten yet."
His crew wore grins, stretching their arms and flexing their fingers, clearly eager for a brawl.
Marco turned to Zeff with a laid-back smile. "We've got fifteen hungry mouths here. Mind preparing us dinner?"
Zeff chuckled and nodded. "Sure, no problem. Just do me a favor try not to wreck the place."
"Of course. We'll take this fight outside."
Marco grinned.
Zeff gave him a nod.
As he turned to head toward the kitchen, one of the chefs behind him asked nervously, "Boss, are you sure it's okay? Krieg commands fifteen pirate ships."
"Relax. The Whitebeard Pirates are insanely strong. And the one here today is their second-in-command, Marco the Phoenix. Dealing with Krieg will be a walk in the park."
With that, Zeff ascended the spiral staircase.
There, standing at the railing, was Lucas Moore.
Zeff broke into a grin. "Hey kid, haven't had dinner yet, have you?"
Lucas glanced at him and nodded.
"Then do me a favor and watch the place while I'm gone. Dinner's on me."
"I can pay."
"Then I'll throw in a bottle of good wine."
"Deal."
Zeff laughed heartily as he headed up the stairs.
Outside, Marco and his crew made no move to fight at first. They simply retreated step by step, luring Krieg's men away from the restaurant. Only when they were fully outside did they strike.
One by one, Krieg's pirates were knocked into the sea.
By the time Krieg caught up, his entire crew had already been wiped out.
He trembled with rage.
The woman at his side, shaking in fear, clung to his arm. "Darling, what do we do? They're... really strong."
"Get out of my way!" Krieg snapped, shoving her aside with a glare.
Terrified, she stumbled backward.
Marco smiled. "Scaring a woman? That's your idea of being a captain? Looks like you're the one who commands that big ship out there. Tell you what, why don't you take your people and leave?"
As soon as he finished speaking, his crewmates burst out laughing.
Krieg was livid. He threw off his coat, revealing a suit of gold-plated armor beneath. With a cold snort, he growled, "You think I'm afraid of you just because you're with Whitebeard? You've only been to the Grand Line ahead of me, that's all. My body is a walking arsenal. Crushing you will be easy."
Marco chuckled. "Ah, so you haven't even been to the Grand Line yet. Let's see if your bite is as big as your bark. Show me what you've got, little frog in the well."