"Michael-san, there's only five of us. Are you sure this is okay?"
The one speaking was Shu, a Navy Headquarters Lieutenant, his face covered with a scarf.
"Of course it's fine."
Michael looked at the five people standing before him. The oldest were only eighteen—Rosinante and T Bone.
The one who had spoken, Shu, was merely seventeen.
T Bone had left quite the impression in the original series.
After all, he was the chivalrous knight of justice—a man with a heart of gold, someone nearly saint-like in terms of character.
Aside from being, well, unattractive, he basically had no flaws.
And yet such a well-known good man ended up killed by the very civilians he desperately tried to protect.
Michael didn't want to see someone like T Bone meet the same end in this world.
As for the name Shu… when he first heard it, Michael had no idea who it was referring to.
But Shu was that Navy Captain on Enies Lobby who faced off against Zoro, using the Rust-Rust Fruit to destroy Zoro's sword!
That Paramecia-type fruit was actually extremely valuable.
And in the original story, Shu barely had any scenes or lines—but after getting to know him, Michael realized this guy was sharp.
He even had unique insights into the faction-ridden state of the Navy, which was why, despite being close friends with T Bone, the two of them had never joined any faction.
Of course, maybe it was precisely this attitude that made these talented young Marines get excluded by the so-called "factions."
Not that anyone was actively trying to suppress them—
But in the end, it still held them back.
The Navy's development system was… flawed.
The talent gap couldn't be blamed solely on a lack of recruits.
Now, though, the SWORD Secret Special Force had basically taken shape.
Aside from Michael as the unit leader, the team already included two Logia-type fruit users—Stella and Smoker; two Paramecia-type users—Hina and Shu; and T Bone, a promising young swordsman.
That was a pretty strong setup.
Even if both Logia Fruits were considered lower-tier, they were still good enough.
It wasn't impossible for a lower-tier fruit to overcome a higher-tier one.
Now all he had to do was set sail and recruit one more person he'd had his eye on for a while, and the team would be complete!
Michael was in the middle of planning this out when a voice suddenly reached his ears.
"Yo, Michael. So you've finished stealing talent from under everyone's nose, huh?"
Michael froze. That lazy tone, the kind of voice that just screamed "slacker"…
He turned around—and sure enough…
The Navy's King of Slackers: Borsalino.
Michael couldn't help but mutter inwardly.
Some things really never change.
Borsalino looked to be only thirty-six years old—still in his prime—but somehow already gave off the vibe of a frail, elderly man nearing retirement.
"Tch, dear Vice Admiral Borsalino, don't go spouting nonsense! Just because you're a Vice Admiral doesn't mean you're above the law!"
"And what do you mean 'stealing talent'? Borsalino-san, that's so shallow—so incredibly shallow! I'm giving overlooked Marine geniuses a stage to shine!"
"This way, they can grow faster and better into the Navy's true pillars of strength!"
Borsalino had just wanted to tease Michael a bit, but didn't expect such a smooth barrage of official-sounding rhetoric in return.
So he turned into a flash of light and appeared right in front of Michael, looking at him with genuine amusement.
"Alalala, you really are something, Michael." Borsalino patted him on the shoulder.
"No wonder you were raised by Admiral Sengoku himself. You've only just been promoted to Rear Admiral, and already you've mastered the art of bureaucratic jargon... I'm jealous."
"Cut the crap, Borsalino. Sure, you're a Vice Admiral and I'm just a Rear Admiral, but I'm the commanding officer of a special unit reporting directly to Admiral Sengoku and Vice Admiral Tsuru. If you keep trying to provoke me… don't blame me for making a move."
Michael shot him a sidelong glance, then turned to lead his team away.
But Borsalino reached out and stopped him.
"What, you seriously want to test your strength against me?"
Michael could feel his temper flaring.
What, just because he poached a few promising recruits, Borsalino couldn't sit still anymore?
"Hahaha, Michael, you really are as entertaining as ever." Borsalino laughed without a care, then said, "Speaking of your Secret Special Force, Admiral Sengoku asked me to take you to pick up your warship."
"...Wait, what? A warship?"
The moment he heard there was something in it for him, Michael's temper instantly vanished, and even Borsalino's prematurely-aged face started to look more pleasant.
"That's right. It's a specially equipped warship designed just for the Secret Special Force."
"Hold up—what kind of warship needs you to personally escort me to pick it up? That sounds awfully high-profile!"
Michael was getting excited.
To be honest, if it were just a regular warship, there was no need to have a future Admiral involved.
"Well, well, I am the head of the Navy's Science Division. So of course, any prototype warship packed with classified technology has to go through me."
To be fair, Borsalino really had a good temperament. He wasn't the least bit bothered by Michael's earlier bluntness, even if it bordered on rude.
If Sakazuki had been here, he and Michael would probably already be duking it out.
"A prototype warship… wait, classified tech too?" Michael suddenly lit up, his eyes gleaming. "This wouldn't be from Vegapunk, would it!?"
"Ohhh, Michael, you've got a good eye!" Borsalino nodded, smiling. "Yeah, there's a lot of great stuff Vegapunk just developed. We're letting you test it out while we're at it."
The moment he heard Borsalino drop the name "Vegapunk,"
Michael was fired up.
The old man and Tsuru were really generous this time.
Looked like they were finally aware that things inside the Navy had gotten out of hand.
But at this point, Michael didn't care how much support they were giving him.
"Let's go! Hurry up, Borsalino, move it!"
"You're really in a rush, huh? Young people should learn to be more steady."
"No more 'steady'—you get too steady and you'll end up like you, some sad middle-aged man aging before his time."
"...Did you just insult me?"
"I was praising you. Saying you're mature beyond your years."
"The way you talk… really reminds me of myself. You sure we're not related by blood?"
"At least you're self-aware!"
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