When wandering abroad, identity was what you declared for yourself. And Jin's story was watertight—airtight enough to secure his throne as legitimate.
First, illegitimate son. Bloodline still meant something, and it granted him a right to succession.
Second, the people's choice. He claimed he had been elected, recognized by Drum's citizens themselves.
To the World Government, that was enough.
After all, if a member kingdom's crown could be overthrown at whim, if a monarch could be swapped out without consequence, then what meaning did their system have? Why would kings across the seas continue paying the Heavenly Tribute?
No, so long as the Tribute was paid, the World Government would defend the throne. It was business. A contract. Protection in exchange for gold. Break that illusion, and the entire foundation of their authority would crumble.
Even Doflamingo's usurpation had been "tolerated"—because he was a Celestial Dragon by birth, and because his family had once ruled Dressrosa. They could explain it away. But anyone else would have been crushed by Marine might before they could warm the throne.
Jin understood. If he was to clash with the Marines or even the World Government itself one day, he needed the armor of legitimacy.
"Drum's king?" Hina pressed, cigarette smoke curling as her gaze sharpened. "Then why are you here?"
"Drum is a winter island," Jin answered easily, with a soft smile. "I came to Aska for supplies. A bit of sightseeing. Is that a crime?"
Her eyes flicked. "So that ship… belongs to you?"
"Of course." His tone was impatient now, almost arrogant. "And the moment I arrive, I'm attacked, interrogated, insulted. Tell me, Commander, will your Navy be offering me an explanation? Or shall I file my complaint directly with the World Government?"
Hina's brow twitched. She couldn't decide alone. She raised the matter to Vice Admiral Yamakaji.
"...A king?" The man's cigar glowed as his brows furrowed. Even he couldn't handle this lightly. A member nation's monarch? That was beyond his pay grade. The matter was swiftly filed upward, landing on Fleet Admiral Sengoku's desk.
Sengoku rubbed his temples, then sighed. "I'll inform the Gorosei. Until then, do not provoke him."
The call was made. The Five Elders responded with the indifference of gods.
"Wapol? That idiot is dead?"
"A new king chosen already? Check that it isn't a Revolutionary ploy."
"And remember, it's almost time to collect the Heavenly Tribute. Test the new king's willingness. If he pays, then leave him be. A kingdom that small… its importance is symbolic, not strategic."
Three sentences. That was all Drum merited in their vast council. A toy to be waved off.
Thus the orders descended:
Yamakaji would remain on Aska to handle the pirates. He was too valuable to leave.
The burden fell squarely onto Commander Hina's shoulders. She was to escort this so-called King Jin back to Drum—both as apology and as investigation. Confirm he wasn't Revolutionary scum. Confirm he would pay the Tribute. And, above all, do not anger him.
Jin accepted at once. He had expected this. An investigation was inevitable. He had no Whitebeard to vouch for him, no Dragon for a father, no Yonko singing his praises. Until his strength was unassailable, he would have to play along.
For now, patience.
"Commander," Jin asked lazily, glancing sidelong at Hina and her Marines, "you truly mean to shadow me step for step?"
"Of course," she answered flatly. "Aska Island is thick with pirates. Vice Admiral Yamakaji instructed me personally—your safety is paramount until you return to Drum."
Her eyes were sharp, her tone dead serious.
Jin's lips quirked into a grin. "Very well. Convenient, actually. I need to purchase supplies. You and your men can help."
Her brow furrowed. She bristled when he added, "I'll fetch my money first. Best if you don't follow, Commander. If my funds were to vanish… well, that would be awkward."
Her cheeks tightened. I, a Marine Commander, steal from him? She wanted to snap—but held her tongue. She stationed herself at the docks instead, watching him disappear aboard his ship.
Inside, Jin whispered to Little Ai, "Camouflage us. Ordinary merchant vessel."
The Carrier complied, its monstrous hull concealing its true self behind an illusion of sails and wood.
He summoned his crew, briefing them. Selected a handful of quick-witted sailors to handle appearances. The rest remained within the inner spaces.
Soon after, he descended the gangplank carrying a chest of berries. The Marines became his pack mules.
Sweating under the sun, they hauled sack after sack of grain and crates of goods onto the ship. Ten tons, maybe more.
And their king? Reclining beneath a parasol, sipping wine, with Commander Hina herself kneading his shoulders.
The Marines' jaws clenched.
"Damn it, he's really treating us like laborers!"
"He's even got Commander Hina massaging him…!"
"So bold… so lucky… so dead when I get my hands on him!"
The more they grumbled, the more Jin leaned back in his chair, basking in their envy.
"Hey, no slacking," he called idly.
"Who's slacking!?" they roared back, red-faced.
By nightfall the holds were stuffed, the warehouses stacked high. Hina, ever dutiful, even followed him on his rounds of inspection.
Yet unease gnawed at her. A ship this vast… and so few crew? Nothing seemed out of place, and yet… her instincts screamed.
There was something here. Something vast and coiled in shadow, lurking beneath the decks. A demon. A beast. Its eyes pressed upon her, eager to swallow her whole.
Her heart trembled. She fought to suppress it.
Illusion? No… it feels real.
What she sensed was the domain of the Awakened Munch-Munch Fruit, bleeding into the world, smothering her own Cage-Cage powers.
She could not understand it. But she would not flee.
She was Hina. A Commander of Justice. And justice did not retreat.
"Your Majesty," she said crisply, "a vessel of this size surely has spare quarters. Should pirates attack, it is best I remain aboard. To protect you."
Jin chuckled. "Then why not the captain's quarters? Wouldn't guarding me personally be the safest option?"
Her eyes narrowed, a dangerous smile tugging her lips. "If His Majesty does not mind, then I'll gladly accept."
Gasps from the Marines.
"Commander Hina!"
"He's not a good man, can't you see? He has intentions towards you!"
"Don't fall for it!"
Jin sneered. "Shut it, you pack of simpering lapdogs. Back to your ship. Now. Unless you want a swim with the sharks."
Their faces flushed with fury. All day they had hauled crates like oxen, and now they were dismissed like trash.
"Damn king… too arrogant…"
"One day, I'll—"
But at a single look from Hina, their words died. They slunk back to their warship, growling under their breath.
Men, tamed like curs.
Jin watched them go, and smirked. "Pitiful creatures."
At the port's edge, Vice Admiral Yamakaji puffed his cigar, frowning at the departing ships. "Strange. By now, they should have been here. Did something go wrong? Or…"
His brow darkened. "Could it be? Gasparde—did that treacherous swine betray us yet again?"