Nothing Happened Last Night

Marineford, the Fleet Admiral's Office.

Click.

The Air Door had barely opened a crack when a stack of documents came flying straight at Ron.

Ron raised a hand and opened a small door.

Smack!

The documents landed right back on Sengoku's desk, intact and with the pages still in order.

"You've got the nerve to come back?!" Sengoku's braided mustache trembled with rage.

"Why wouldn't I?"

Ron patted his coat pocket. "The Holy Land just commended me for my great service. There was even a bonus."

He actually pulled out a gold-lettered certificate and slapped it on the desk.

When Sengoku saw the line that read "Defeated the chief instigator of the riot head-on and brought the conflict in the Holy Land to an end," his temple throbbed again.

More absurdly, the letter of thanks stated in black and white: [Rear Admiral Ron faithfully carried out every assignment.]

Sengoku really wanted to ask whether they had gone down there to investigate at all.

"Do you know how many slaves escaped yesterday?!"

"No. I was busy catching Fisher Tiger."

"Did you catch him?!"

"I did."

"Where is he?!"

"He jumped into the sea."

The office fell silent for two seconds.

"Pfft—hahahaha!"

Garp laughed so hard he nearly sprayed rice crackers in Sengoku's face.

On the sofa, Kuzan pulled his sleep mask up a little and spoke unhurriedly. "Oh my... I heard you opened a lot of doors last night?"

"The buildings in the Holy Land were too complicated, and I wasn't familiar with them. A few mistakes in positioning were inevitable."

"I see."

Each sounded more sincere than the other.

Holding his teacup, Borsalino chimed in at a leisurely pace. "How scary~ I hear one of God's Knights worked very hard too. He cut down three of his own pursuit routes in a single night."

"He's young and doesn't know the job well."

Ron nodded, his face serious. "He was probably copying me."

Borsalino nearly burst out laughing and sprayed his tea.

"Ron."

Sakazuki suddenly spoke.

Hearing his tone, Garp's smile immediately faded a little.

"Haha! I just remembered I have something to do!"

He scooped up his rice crackers, turned and left.

Kuzan also got up unhurriedly.

Borsalino looked at Sakazuki, then at Ron, and slowly set down his teacup.

"Oh my~"

Sengoku glanced at Sakazuki, then at Ron.

Finally, he picked up the report on his desk.

"You two talk. I'll be next door."

Only when father and son were alone in the office did Sakazuki's expression darken.

"How many people did you let go?"

Ron paused. "I don't know."

"I'm not asking for a number."

Ron looked up, refusing to yield an inch. "Pops, there's no way I could send people who hadn't committed any crimes back to the slave cells."

"If the higher-ups really decide to pursue this, what will you do?"

Ron waved the gold-lettered certificate. "They just gave me a commendation, remember?"

"..."

Sakazuki stared at the paper without speaking for a long while.

In the end, he coldly left him with a single remark. "Stay away from those people in the Holy Land."

"What a coincidence. I don't like them either."

Ron put the certificate away and turned to leave. When he reached the door, a voice came from behind him.

"Next time something like this happens, tell me first."

Sakazuki hadn't approved of his actions, but neither had he forced him to catch those people again.

Ron knew full well that his father still believed in military orders and discipline, yet he hadn't asked him to push those people back into the fire.

His steps paused briefly.

"Got it, Pops."

Fish-Man Island.

"Brother Tiger?!"

Jinbe, his hair blond, rushed into the room. When he saw the man on the bed, wrapped head to toe in bandages, his expression changed drastically.

Arlong followed close behind, his fists cracking as he clenched them. "Who did this to you? I'll take some men and go after him!"

"Take care of the other wounded first."

Fisher Tiger braced himself against the edge of the bed and sat up, his voice still a little hoarse. "A few of the people who came back with me still haven't woken up."

"But the news said you were knocked off the Red Line!"

"Well, I'm still alive, aren't I?"

Fisher Tiger tugged at the corner of his mouth, pulling at his wounds and wincing in pain.

"They still don't know I'm back. Keep it quiet for now."

Jinbe's expression darkened.

"You're afraid they'll come after you on Fish-Man Island?"

"Yeah."

Fisher Tiger lay back down.

"I don't want to drag anyone else into this."

Neptune stood in the doorway, a complicated look on his face.

Once the wounded had all been settled, Fisher Tiger gathered his companions from the Fish-Man District and the others who had escaped with him.

He took off his coat, exposing the mark of the Celestial Dragons' Hoof burned deep into his back. The room fell silent at once.

The other Fish-Men who had been rescued bore the same mark.

Fisher Tiger looked at them. "This mark tells people at a glance that we were slaves."

"But starting today, it doesn't have to be that way."

He had someone bring a red-hot branding iron and changed the original mark into a burning sun.

Some of the companions who had never been enslaved also stepped forward of their own accord to be branded with the same design.

One person clenched a fist against the pain but still smiled at Fisher Tiger. "If anyone asks from now on, we'll say we've all seen the sun."

Fisher Tiger looked at the searing sun marks, fell silent for a long time, then nodded gently.

Arlong clenched his fists.

"Brother! The government already has a bounty on you. Let's just head out to sea and become pirates!"

"If humans dare come after us, we'll fight back!"

"No."

Fisher Tiger's answer was decisive.

Arlong stared. "Why not?!"

"Just because the government has a bounty on me, I have to become a pirate?"

Fisher Tiger glanced at him.

"I risked my life to rescue those people, not to lead them out to kill."

He recalled the words the young man had spoken to him across their clashing blades amid the flames of Mary Geoise.

"We'll go out to sea to save our people who are still suffering and protect those who have no home."

"And we'll see the real sun out on the sea, too."

Jinbe's eyes lit up. "Then what do we call this group?"

Fisher Tiger looked at the sun marks on everyone, his voice steady and strong.

"The Sun Pirates."

The Calm Belt, Amazon Lily.

"Take them for treatment first. Everything else can wait."

Gloriosa didn't press them about what they had experienced in the Holy Land.

Late at night, Boa Hancock sat alone on the edge of her bed, clutching a newspaper clipping.

The headline read: [Seventeen-year-old monster Rear Admiral battles riot's chief instigator, forcing Fisher Tiger into the sea.]

In the photograph, Ron wore a white coat with Zhenyuan on his back, his profile stern.

"Sister?"

Sandersonia rubbed her eyes as she came over and glanced at it. "Is that the Marine who let us go?"

Boa Hancock hurriedly stuffed the newspaper under her pillow, her cheeks slightly red. "N-no, it isn't! Go to sleep!"

Her younger sister left, looking bewildered.

Boa Hancock touched the marks on her wrists, where scabs were gradually forming.

She waited a while before pulling the newspaper back out from under her pillow.

The young man in the photograph wore a white coat, his expression cool.

Boa Hancock looked at it for a long time.

Finally, she carefully smoothed out the newspaper and tucked it into a book by her bed.

An ordinary port town.

"Move faster! Five hundred Beli a day. Take it or leave it!"

"If you won't do it, plenty of others will!"

Gild Tesoro carried a heavy cargo crate, the ropes rubbing painfully against the wounds on his wrists.

He didn't talk back.

Not until evening did the foreman slap a few coins into his palm.

"Five hundred Beli! Be late tomorrow and I'll dock half!"

Gild Tesoro looked down at the coins in his palm.

It was a pitifully small amount.

But this time, no one forced him to kneel, and no one waited with a whip while he worked.

He clenched the coins and suddenly smiled.

"It's finally my own money."

As he passed a newsstand, he saw Ron's photograph on the front page and stopped for a long time.

In the end, he used his first day's wages to buy a newspaper, carefully folded it and tucked it into the pocket closest to his body.

I'll make something of myself!

Night, Marineford.

"Garp! Those are my rice crackers!"

"Hahaha! Whoever gets them first gets to keep them!"

Ron and Garp fought over them from opposite ends of the dining table, having the time of their lives.

Kuzan slept in a chair nearby, while Borsalino watched the commotion over his teacup.

Hibari ran down the corridor with a bag of North Blue candy in her arms. As she passed, she secretly reached out and grabbed two rice crackers.

"Hibari! You too?!"

"Go, big brother!"

"Put my rice crackers down first!"

Just then, Sengoku's roar rang through the entire floor.

"Ron!! Where's your Holy Land operation report?!"

Without even looking up, Ron pointed out the door. "Vergo's working on it!"

"He's trained the Six Powers and Haki so well, and you make him write your reports for you every day?!"

Outside the door.

Vergo stood expressionless, holding a thick stack of documents.

On the left were the records of the Holy Land operation; on the right was a supplementary report on the North Blue arms investigation.

On the cover was a line written in Ron's own hand: [I can rest easy leaving it to Vergo.]

Vergo stared hard at the words, no longer able to tell whether they were praise or a threat.

It had been two whole years.

He had done everything he could to infiltrate the Navy, only for the secret he knew best to be how much Rear Admiral Ron claimed in meal expenses each month.

Every day, he stayed up late organizing all kinds of intelligence, terrified of missing even half a sentence that might expose him.

Yet Ron never even glanced at any of the intelligence reports he had put together.

Why me again?!

Young Master... are you really not going to consider transferring me back?

I have a feeling... I'm about to get promoted again...