"Sell them off??" Os was dumbfounded. "B-but… we're Marines!"
Klein chuckled. "Exactly, we're Marines. Who said Marines can't sell pirates?"
"And besides, think about it—if we catch pirates and send them to Enies Lobby for trial, then lock them up in Impel Down… that's just a waste of manpower and resources."
"Escorting them along the way, feeding them, preventing escapes… all of that costs money."
"So, either kill them outright or sell them off. Isn't that more efficient?"
"..."
Os felt his entire worldview shatter. Somehow, Klein's logic… actually made sense.
But still…
Something felt wrong. He just couldn't say what.
The pirates, on the other hand, were outraged.
"Where's justice!? What happened to the law!? You Marines are selling us into slavery!?"
"No! I refuse! I demand to be locked up in Impel Down!"
"Klein, are you even a Marine anymore!? Did a dog eat your justice!?"
"You're a disgrace! You don't deserve to wear that uniform!"
"What kind of Marine does this!? Klein, you're insane! You're a monster!"
"...…"
Klein ignored their howls completely. His heart was colder than steel.
Sympathy? For pirates?
Not a chance.
If they're worthless, kill them.
If they're worth something, then squeeze every last drop of value from them.
Over a thousand pirates were shackled and marched toward the slave auction site, guarded by several hundred Marine soldiers.
The crowd appeared like a tidal wave outside the auction house, sending the gate guards into a cold sweat.
"Oi, oi, are these guys here to cause trouble?!"
"I-I'll go report to the boss. You stall them!" said the smarter one, already darting off to sound the alarm.
The one left behind stood pale-faced, legs trembling.
As Klein stepped in front of him, the poor guy collapsed to his knees with a thud, his voice shaky yet defiant. "Wh-what do you want!?"
"Oh, didn't run away. Good." Klein looked down at him. "Relax. We're just here to do business with your boss."
Moments later, the auction hall's head manager arrived, face shifting when he saw Klein in a Rear Admiral's uniform.
"Hey, Marine," the man warned sharply, "this isn't a place you can throw your weight around. This is a legitimate business!"
"Even the noble Celestial Dragons frequent this auction house. Cause trouble here, and you'd better be ready for the consequences!"
He threw out the Celestial Dragons' name like a weapon—its deterrent immediate. Both Marines and pirates flinched.
In this world, the Celestial Dragons stood above all. The World Government ruled the seas, and they were its royalty.
Their authority was absolute.
Klein understood that. Right now, he didn't have the power or status to scream "trash" in the face of a Celestial Dragon.
But still...
"You little worm, waving the Celestial Dragon banner at me?"
"You think you have the strength or clout to back that up?"
Swish!
In a flash, Klein had grabbed the man by the neck and lifted him off the ground.
"If you're gonna act tough, make sure you know who you're dealing with first!"
"Bastard!!" the manager's face turned red with blood rushing to his head. "Go on, wreck this place if you dare! You think you'll still be wearing that uniform afterward!?"
"Threatening me?" Klein's eyes turned razor sharp. "Killing a piece of trash like you? I'd sleep great tonight."
"When you get down there, be sure to tell some guy named Yi·Bo that you were killed by Moretti Klein!"
Crack—!
He snapped the man's neck cleanly and tossed the corpse aside like a stray dog.
The nearby staff scattered in panic.
Klein calmly turned to the crowd. "Who's the deputy manager? Step forward."
A mere auction house lackey? Even if the place had powerful backers, what were they going to do—drag the Marines into a war over it?
Please.
"M-m-me!" A man stepped out, soaked in sweat. "S-sir, what are your orders?"
Who cared about his boss now? The man who could end him was standing right here.
A wise man knows when to yield!
"Good. This is how business should be—peaceful and professional." Klein smiled.
"From now on, you're the one in charge of this auction house."
He then gestured behind him. "Look at these pirates. Check how much they're worth. And no underpricing—I'm a very reasonable man… except when it comes to money. I don't take losses."
The newly promoted deputy manager was drenched in sweat. The pressure was immense. But then he spotted a familiar face in the crowd—one of the Supernovas, the infamous "Born Brawler" Powell.
He gasped. "T-these guys… I'll have my men do a full count right away. This is no small matter."
"Take your time." Klein waved his hand.
"Sir, it might take a while. May I offer you a private room to rest? I'll report once everything's ready."
"Sure thing." Klein grinned. "See? I'm reasonable. Let's not have any misunderstandings."
When the count was done, the manager offered a price: 200 million Berries.
Klein was pleased. The deal was struck on the spot.
He even asked if there were any curvy beauties for sale—but sadly, no luck.
Otherwise, maybe he could've found Os a wife.
After the transaction, Klein left the auction house with a satisfied grin.
He handed 10 million Berries to Os. "Here. Split this among the team."
"T-this much!?" Os was stunned. They'd only handled some weak pirates and basic guarding.
"You're taking it," Klein insisted. "Look at you—same ragged clothes, same rusty gun for years. And how are you gonna raise a family without money?"
"You better find a girl who can have kids. Don't stop at one. And many of the guys here have families to feed too."
Being a Marine is fine if you've got strength. If not, it's one of the deadliest jobs out there.
There are reckless pirates, sure. But the Marines had their share of fools too—ones who charged after Roger, Whitebeard, or Shiki only to get sliced down like wheat.
It was brutal.
That's why Klein always preferred the idea of becoming a branch base commander.
"Klein-sama..." Os was visibly moved, eyes brimming with tears. He knew how much Klein loved money.
He even dared defy Fleet Admiral Oharden, yet here he was, giving out ten million to his men.
"Loyal Orange!" Os saluted sharply.
The Marines behind him all straightened with burning resolve.
"Loyal Orange!" they saluted in unison.
I was a corporate slave in my past life. Now it's your turn to be mine.
We're cut from the same cloth—why tear each other apart?
Hearing that chant echo made Klein feel amazing.
Way better than dropping tips on some streamer girl who'd squeak "Ukiii~" or dance for views.
This was real emotional payoff.
Sigh—
I really am a good guy.
Pururururu—
The Den Den Mushi suddenly rang.
Os counted silently in his head. "Twelve times."
Yup.
Fleet Admiral Oharden had called twelve times already.
Os picked up.
The Den Den Mushi mimicked Oharden's angry face, puffed cheeks and all:
"OS! What's that bastard Klein doing!? I told him to report to G-14! Why is he still loitering around Sabaody!?"
"Eh!?"
"What the hell is he doing!?"
Os gulped. "Um… Klein-sama is busy capturing pirates. He hasn't had time to answer your calls. Sorry!"
Click.
The call ended.
Klein grinned in satisfaction. Os was really getting the hang of things.
Perfect.
Stick with me, kid, and maybe you'll be known one day as the "World's Greatest Sniper", the infamous Black Gun.
Klein threw an arm around Os's shoulder. He was shorter—at just 1.8 meters, Os was easy to pull in. Not like Sengoku and the rest.
"Come on, I'll show you around. Toughen you up a bit, show you the world. Can't have you fainting every time you see a girl. That's bottom-tier Marine stuff."
"Bottom-tier Marine?" Os blinked. "Never heard that term before… What does it mean exactly, Klein-sama?"