"Hey, how did you get Headquarters to assign me to this?!"
On the deck of the warship, Hina crossed her arms and glared at Jin, her expression sour.
Jin only smiled as he looked her over.
Hina was always meticulous, at any time, in any place. Her attire was never once out of order. She stood tall at one meter eighty-one, her figure slim yet commanding. Today, as always, she wore a form-fitting professional suit in rose-red, paired with the Marines' white coat of Justice draped over her shoulders.
It made her look sharp, heroic, and dazzlingly competent.
But Jin's eyes inevitably drifted to her chest—the kind of proud, towering presence that could rival mountains themselves.
He shrugged lightly. "I'm a king of a World Government member nation. This is nothing more than a little indulgence in my own privilege."
The words of CP0 echoed in his mind.
Damn right.
I'm a king!
The Marines?
Dogs that fetch when I say fetch.
All that Heavenly Tribute we pay year after year—feeding this entire military force. If I need them, then I'll use them.
"Hmph. Hina thought you were different from other kings," she said, her voice sharp, displeased.
She had been ready to set out on a mission to hunt down pirates, to earn her merit, to climb the ranks. Instead, she had been reassigned—to escort Jin to G-3 for training.
How could she ever reach admiral rank like this?
Jin chuckled, eyes glinting. "If it's a rear admiral's position you want, that's too easy. Near Hannabal, there are plenty of pirates for you to capture."
Hina blinked, her eyes flashing with surprise. "Wait… how did you know what I was just thinking? Could it be…"
"You want promotion?" Jin said smoothly. "With my support, with the right arrangements, not only rear admiral—I could even make you a vice admiral."
"But remember this—on this sea, rank without strength is nothing but a joke."
"Instead of chasing pirates across the world, you'd be better off training for a time. Build your strength. Aren't you tempted by the chance to be personally trained by Vice Admiral Garp?"
Hina's breath caught. "Of course I want that! But… how could it be so easy?"
Jin's lips curved into a sly smile. "With me here, it is that easy. Why else do you think I had you called over?"
"Don't look so ungrateful. I'm doing this for you."
Did he… did he make some kind of deal with Headquarters again?
Hina's expression turned complicated. Was this the power of privilege? Everything she clawed for step by step, he could move with a single word.
Smack.
Jin raised his hand and swatted the back of her head. "So? Going or not? If not, I'll just find someone else."
"Ow!" Hina clutched her head, glaring up at him, grumbling, "I never said I wasn't going…"
…
The G-3 base stood at the midpoint of one of the seven routes, close to the Calm Belt. It was a fortress like no other.
At the docks, a massive old man stood with a bag of donuts in hand. His chest was broad, his frame towered, his muscles bulged like iron.
He chomped into a donut and spoke around the mouthful. "Mmph. You could've handled welcoming this king yourselves. Why drag me along? Irritating!"
"Vice Admiral Garp, this was a direct order from Fleet Admiral Sengoku," the rear admiral beside him said stiffly, his tone serious.
He had no choice but to be stern—after all, he had Garp as his commanding officer.
Yes. "To manage."
For Garp, though he was hailed as the Navy's "Hero" and held the rank of Vice Admiral, spent most of his days drinking tea, eating sweets, and vacationing back in the East Blue.
He barely did a damn thing.
As he often said himself: "Old men like me are finished. You are the future of the Marines. I'm just training you all."
That said, Garp was loyal to his subordinates, utterly reliable in key moments, and by all accounts a good superior.
And this time, Sengoku had insisted: Garp himself must oversee this special training. How could anyone take that lightly?
"Tch. Sengoku knows damn well I don't like dealing with aristocrats and royals, and he still shoves one onto me," Garp grumbled.
Bogard, his loyal aide, spoke up. "I heard this was the king's request. They say he was the one who dealt with the Navy's stain, Gasparde, during the Death Tournament. The Navy owes him a debt."
"Oh?" Garp's eyes flickered. "So he defeated Gasparde? Must be a Devil Fruit user, then?"
"Unclear," the rear admiral replied. "But the Fleet Admiral ordered you to probe his strength."
"Mm. Got it."
Garp and Sengoku had been comrades for decades. He could already sense Sengoku's unusual interest in this young king.
"Seems I'll have to show some effort after all."
He tore into another donut, chewing thoughtfully. His gaze lifted to the horizon—two warships were approaching, passing through the massive gates into the fortress.
The first was a small Marine vessel, clearly from Headquarters.
The second…
Garp narrowed his eyes.
From the outside, it looked like an ordinary large sailing ship. Nothing more.
But… something was wrong.
He couldn't place it, but the longer he looked, the stronger the feeling became. It was as if that ship… was looking back at him.
Alive.
He blinked, looked again.
The sensation was gone.
"Strange," Garp muttered under his breath.
The warships docked.
Hina was the first to disembark, stepping briskly onto the pier, delivering her report. Only then did Jin step down the gangplank.
So young.
So bright.
So clean.
So strikingly handsome.
At first glance, Jin gave Garp, Bogard, and the assembled officers of G-3 a strong impression.
With a warm smile on his face, Jin strode forward. His eyes swept the officers—and instantly landed on the towering figure of Garp.
Two meters and eighty-seven centimeters tall. Ridiculous by most standards, though in this world, far from the largest.
His eyes gleamed with wisdom. His short hair was iron-gray, his presence sharp and commanding.
"The Navy's Vice Admiral. The Navy's Hero. The man they call the Iron Fist—Monkey D. Garp!"
Jin stepped forward and said warmly, "Vice Admiral Garp, I am one of your admirers. At last, I've finally met you."
An admirer?
Not here to cause trouble?
Relief rippled among the G-3 officers. Their guarded eyes softened, the tension eased.
It wasn't that they disliked Jin personally. But the sea had birthed too many absurd kings, too many fools who'd betrayed expectations.
"And I also bring gifts," Jin continued with an easy laugh. "A batch of my homeland's delicacy—mushrooms. Tonight, let the mess hall add them to the meal."
He gestured, and his crew began unloading crates. These were cultivated within the carrier by Little Ai, meant as samples. A first pitch, perhaps, to win G-3's procurement orders.
"Mushrooms?"
The rear admiral frowned suspiciously.
Everyone knew mushrooms could be treacherous things. One wrong bite and you'd be flat on a board, dead as stone.
Jin explained easily. "My homeland's farmers can't sell their harvest. I thought to ask for your help. Rest assured—I'll eat them myself first. Absolutely safe."
The officers blinked, startled. A king pushing his people's unsold produce? This was a first. Could he really be… a benevolent ruler?
Garp grunted. "Send them to the mess hall. If the men like them, we'll buy a batch."
"Oh, thank you, Vice Admiral Garp!" Jin said, bowing slightly.
Garp studied him carefully. "So you want me to train you?"
"Yes," Jin answered without hesitation.
"And also Commander Hina."
He glanced back at the crew still unloading. "And I hope the men I've brought along can receive some proper Marine training as well."
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