When Linbei took his first bite of the Krabby Patty, he froze.
The bun was as soft as a cloud, yielding gently between his teeth.
The crispness of the pickles and the rich creaminess of the cheese converged on his tongue, while the fresh lettuce and juicy tomato perfectly balanced the weight of the sauce.
There was also an indescribable flavor—not quite crab, but more savory than any seafood, as if the sea and the land had reached a mysterious reconciliation at that very moment, concentrating every good thing in the world into a single bite.
“This is…” Linbei looked down at the Krabby Patty in his hand, then up at Spongebob.
“Does this really not have any crab in it?”
“Nope!” Spongebob stood behind the stove, his large round eyes blinking.
“It’s called a Krabby Patty because it makes your taste buds dance like a crab!
Not because there’s actually crab inside!”
Linbei fell silent for two seconds.
*Dancing like a crab.*
That description…
was strangely accurate.
He took another bite.
This time he ate more slowly, trying to deconstruct every ingredient.
The bread, the vegetables, the sauce, the patty—the texture of the patty was peculiar.
It wasn’t like beef, pork, or fish.
it had a unique elasticity, a slight springiness against his teeth that seemed to say, “Have another bite.”
“What is this patty made of?”
Spongebob tilted his head, thinking.
“Secret formula!”
“You can’t tell me the secret formula?”
“It’s not that I can’t tell you, I don’t even know it!” Spongebob laughed with innocent glee.
“Only Mr.
Krabs knows the secret formula to the Krusty Krab!
When I go to work every day, the patties are already on the grill!
I just have to cook them!”
Linbei’s lip twitched.
*You’ve been making Krabby Patties for who knows how many years, and you don’t even know what the patties are made of?*
However, he soon let it go.
That was just how Spongebob was.
He didn’t need to know the recipe; he only needed to sear the patties until they were crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, toast the buns to perfection, and spread the sauce evenly and delicately.
As for the recipe—that was Mr.
Krabs’ business.
Furthermore, Linbei noticed something.
When Spongebob made the Krabby Patty, he only used the standard ingredients.
But that flavor—that “unlike any known meat” taste—appeared during the cooking process.
It was almost like a conceptual ability.
Any ingredient, once it passed through Spongebob’s hands, would become a Krabby Patty.
Not just “shaped like a Krabby Patty,” but “becoming a Krabby Patty in essence.”
Looking at the half-eaten burger, a thought suddenly struck Linbei.
“Spongebob.”
“Ready!”
“If I gave you chicken, what could you make?”
“A Krabby Patty!”
“Beef?”
“A Krabby Patty!”
“Fish?”
“A Krabby Patty!” Spongebob raised his spatula, his tone as cheerful as a song.
“No matter the ingredient, it becomes a Krabby Patty in my hands!
That’s what Mr.
Krabs says!
He says it’s a gift!
A natural-born talent!”
Linbei fell silent once more.
He suddenly felt that the “gift” the heavens gave Spongebob probably only consisted of one dish.
But this one dish was delicious enough to make someone swallow their own tongue.
He finished the rest of the Krabby Patty in a few bites and licked the sauce from his fingers, the idea in his head becoming clearer and clearer.
Open a shop.
Konoha had thousands of households and a population of tens of thousands.
There were ninjas, civilians, the elderly, and children.
They all had one thing in common—they all had to eat.
And the Krabby Patty was the most delicious thing he had ever eaten.
It was better than the Three-Colored Pills from Kanmuriya.
Better than Ichiraku Ramen.
Better than anything in any restaurant in Konoha.
If he opened a Krabby Patty shop…
Linbei’s eyes lit up.
Then he thought of a practical problem.
Money.
Renting a storefront cost money.
Buying ingredients cost money.
Setting up kitchenware cost money.
As a lone Uchiha orphan, the monthly stipend he received was barely enough to keep him fed.
Where would he get the money to open a shop?
Linbei’s gaze fell upon Tom.
Tom was crouching in a corner, drawing something on a blackboard with his claws.
He had drawn a cat standing on a mountain peak with a crowd of people kneeling at the base.
Above the cat’s head, four large characters were written: KING OF ALL CATS.
Linbei didn’t understand what the drawing was supposed to express, but he knew one thing—Tom could get money.
The last time they bought Three-Colored Pills, Tom had pulled coins out from behind his back.
Although he didn’t know where that money came from, if Tom could produce coins, he could probably produce banknotes.
“Tom.” Linbei walked over and knelt down to look Tom in the eye.
Tom put down the blackboard and looked up at him.
“Can I ask you a favor?”
Tom pulled the blackboard from behind his back and wrote one word:
[Speak.]
“Help me build a Krabby Patty food cart.” Linbei pointed to Spongebob, who was still humming by the stove.
“He needs a place to sell his food.
I want to start with a stall first, then rent a shop once we’ve saved enough money.”
After listening, Tom looked down at the blackboard and then back up at Linbei.
He then glanced at Spongebob—the yellow square was spinning in circles in front of the stove, singing “Krabby Patty, Krabby Patty, delicious Krabby Patty,” completely immersed in his own world.
Tom put the blackboard away.
He shook his head.
He crossed his paws over his chest and turned his body away, giving Linbei the cold shoulder.
His back practically screamed: NOT.
INTERESTED.
Linbei was stunned for a moment.
*Is Tom…
jealous?*
On second thought, it made sense.
For over two years, Tom had been his only companion.
Tom did the cooking, Tom accompanied him in training, and the Chakra Tom cultivated was fed back to him.
Now, a yellow square suddenly appeared, snatched away the “chef” position the moment he arrived, and now Tom was being asked to build him a food cart.
Anyone would be upset.
Especially a cat with a sense of pride higher than the Hokage Rock.
Linbei took a deep breath and changed his expression.
“Tom.” His voice softened, as if he were coaxing a bristling cat—well, Tom *was* a cat.
Tom didn’t look back, but his ears twitched.
“Look, in the entire Konoha, no, the entire Ninja World, who else is like you?
Who else can cook, fight, play the piano, and build houses all at once?”
Tom’s tail flicked.
“You are the all-powerful Tom.
Saws, axes, and planks are works of art in your hands.
Tom’s ears stood straight up.
“Only a cute, handsome, and capable kitty can create the perfect Krabby Patty food cart.”
Tom turned his head and gave Linbei a look.
His expression still said “I don’t care,” but his tail was held high.
Linbei struck while the iron was hot.
“And think about it.
Once the Krabby Patty shop opens, you’ll be a founding member.
In the future, people from all over the Ninja World will come to eat Krabby Patties, and every bite they take will be thanks to your food cart.
Your name—no, your Great Name—will be forever engraved in the history of the Krabby Patty.”
Tom stood up and brushed the dust off his tuxedo fur.
He pulled a saw from behind his back.
Then an axe.
Then a pile of wooden planks—pine, oak, walnut—each one planed perfectly smooth, their dimensions precise to the millimeter.
Then came a bucket of paint, a brush, a roll of sandpaper, a box of nails, a hammer, a spirit level, and a square ruler.
Linbei watched as a never-ending stream of items was pulled from behind Tom’s back and silently took two steps back.
Tom put on a pair of safety goggles—yes, he even had those.
And then he began.
The sound of the saw cutting through wood was sharp and powerful; the thud of the axe was heavy and solid; the rhythm of the hammer driving nails was light and accurate.
Tom’s movements were as fast as a gale.
Sawing, chopping, nailing, sanding, painting—every step was fluid, every strike precise.
Wood shavings flew through the room, and the scent of paint filled the air.
In less than ten minutes.
A brand-new food cart appeared in the center of the room.
The body was wooden, polished as smooth as a mirror and coated in a layer of bright orange paint.
The roof was a foldable awning made of deep blue canvas, embroidered with a design—though Tom couldn’t write human script, he had used his claws to embroider a pattern: a round burger with a smiley face on it.
The cart featured a workspace, storage cabinets, and a spice rack, with every component designed with exquisite logic.
The height of the counter was perfectly suited for Spongebob, the storage cabinets were large enough to hold dozens of servings of ingredients, and the spice rack had six small slots, just enough for all the sauces a Krabby Patty required.
There were four wheels at the bottom, allowing it to roll silently.
The handle was wrapped in non-slip hemp rope for a comfortable grip.
Linbei walked around the cart, his mouth hanging open.
“Wow!”
A nasal, high-pitched voice sounded beside his ear.
Spongebob had hopped over to the cart at some point, his hands gripping the edge of the counter, his eyes shining like two stars.
“Is this my very own food cart?” Spongebob’s voice carried a pure, heartfelt surprise.
“It’s so beautiful!
So cool!
So—PER—FECT—”
He turned his head to look at Tom.
“Thank you, little kitty!”
Tom took off his goggles and tucked them away.
He patted the sawdust off his paws, his expression still saying “it was nothing,” but his tail was wagging behind him more cheerfully than ever.
“Meow,” Tom called out.
It wasn’t loud, but it carried a strange sense of “work hard from now on” authority.
Spongebob nodded vigorously, then hopped onto the workspace.
He pulled a spatula and a griddle out from behind his back and began preheating.
“Krabby Patty!
Krabby Patty!
Delicious Krabby Patty!”
As he sang, he began pulling ingredients from the storage cabinet—bread, vegetables, sauce, and patties.
Everything was arranged neatly, like a squad of soldiers waiting for inspection.
Linbei stood by the door, taking in the scene.
Inside the room, an orange food cart shimmered in the light of the setting sun.
Spongebob stood behind the counter, humming as he grilled the patties.
Tom sat on the roof of the cart, adjusting his bowtie and squinting toward the distance.
The Krabby Patty that would one day echo throughout the Ninja World was officially born on this ordinary evening, in an old house in the most remote corner of the Uchiha territory.
Linbei didn’t yet know how much of a surprise this decision would bring him in the near future.
He only knew one thing.
Tomorrow, the first Krabby Patty shop in Konoha would open for business.