"With these tools in hand, once I am back at the restaurant that old geezer will definitely look at me with new respect."
Palming the gleaming Gold Kitchenware, Sanji could not hold back his grin. His mind was already racing ahead, planning exactly how to show off. Just picturing Zeff's stunned face filled him with wicked delight.
"Right, Mr. Amon, what about the rest?"
After fondling the gear for a while, Sanji finally remembered he still had two items he had not claimed. He set the utensils down and asked.
Amon teased him, "Heh, head chef, you finally remembered the last two. I thought you did not want them."
"I got excited and almost forgot." Sanji scratched his head, a little embarrassed. He had been so busy imagining his dramatic entrance that he had blanked on the remaining prizes.
"All right, I will stop messing with you. The last two are both excellent, and one of them is exactly your taste."
"First, this card." Amon produced the Master Chef card.
Sanji accepted it, eyes full of curiosity. "Mr. Amon, what does the card do?"
"This is called a Master Chef card. Use it and you immediately acquire a master's complete cooking skill set, knife work included."
"Master Chef card, and just by using it I become a master chef right away?"
Sanji felt his brain hitch. Could something so small really be that powerful?
"Of course. Do not forget, things from my jars should never be judged by common sense."
Watching Sanji's shock, Amon was very satisfied. That was the reaction he wanted. It would make the boy shout the word far and wide back at the restaurant.
"That is true. So how do I use it?" Sanji nodded, recalling the ridiculous effects of the Kitchenware. These jars really could not be measured by reason.
"Very simple. Clutch it in your palm and silently say use."
Amon had done this many times and walked him through it.
"Like this?" Following the instructions, Sanji placed the card in his hand and murmured the word in his heart.
Ding.
A clear chime seemed to ring inside his skull. An ocean of culinary knowledge poured into his mind. The Sanji who had been a near novice at actual cooking felt as if he had just lived through decades in a kitchen. Give him ingredients and he could plate a dish on the spot. The effortless feeling made him almost giddy. If he was not standing on Amon's ship, he might have sprinted straight back to the restaurant to fire up the stoves.
"Mr. Amon, this is amazing. I really feel like I became a master."
Sanji squeezed his right hand, thrilled.
"Hehe. I told you my jars are extraordinary."
Amon understood the rush well. When he had learned swordsmanship the same way, he had felt the same surge.
"Mr. Amon, what is that last book?"
"This one?" Amon picked up the small volume, a mischievous smile tugging at his mouth. He did not explain. He simply handed it over. "This album is not something to describe. You will understand when you see it. I am confident you will treasure it."
Sanji took the book and flipped open the cover. "Looks like a photo album. Teacher… is that the model's name… kind of cute, but what is the big deal?"
The cover gave nothing away. Then he turned to the first spread. His eyes bulged like a goldtail fish. His face flushed red like boiling water and even seemed to steam.
"This is…"
"That is right," Amon said, smiling.
"Spectacular, too spectacular. Wow, that pose… that is bold."
With the Mr. Amon's confirmation, Sanji slipped into a trance, chuckling and gasping at intervals as if every turn of the page revealed a new miracle. By the end he was so worked up a trickle of nosebleed slid down.
"Ahem, Sanji, you are bleeding."
"Ah, really?" At Amon's prompt he touched his nose, saw the blood, and snapped the book shut. "Sorry, Mr. Amon. It is just too good. I lost myself without noticing."
"Understandable. A love of beauty is universal."
Amon chuckled. No wonder Zoro often called him the lecherous cook. At this age he was already hopelessly bewitched by women.
"Well, Sanji, does that photo collection suit your taste?"
Clutching the album, Sanji spoke with devotional fervor. "Perfect, absolutely perfect. The shots are crystal clear, the energy is wild, the compositions are daring, and there are even playful styles mixed in. A masterpiece."
He dabbed away the last of the nosebleed and kept praising it. There were photo books in this world, yes, but next to this one they were worlds apart.
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