Garp: And You, My Friend, Are the Real Hero!

At Marine Headquarters, Marineford's Fortress of Justice, Kuzan was walking through the first-floor lobby.

At the elevator around the corner, Kuzan waited for one going up. Before long, the doors opened, and Borsalino emerged with a stack of documents in hand, following beside Admiral Sengoku as though they were discussing something.

"Mr. Sengoku, so my assignment this time is to investigate this MADS research team? But shouldn't this sort of thing be handled by the Criminal Investigation Bureau? Am I being transferred there soon? Is this to help me get familiar with it in advance?" Borsalino asked Sengoku.

"No, it has nothing to do with the Criminal Investigation Bureau. You can think of it as the Fleet Admiral believing that the Marines should now establish an armed force dedicated to scientific research, one that can deal with the unpredictable storms ahead, accelerate the upgrading of Marine equipment, and maintain—or even widen—our existing logistical advantage. For now, we'll call it the 'Marine Science Unit.' It's a new department that's very likely to be established. If you perform well, I can arrange for you to serve there. As for the MADS research team, it has several highly capable scientists. Your mission is to investigate them first, get to know them, and see whether we can hire them to work for the Marines," Sengoku explained.

"But it says here that they're... an illegal research group?" Borsalino was somewhat baffled.

"They haven't been registered with World Government approval, their research funds all come from unidentified sources in the underworld, and they're conducting research into dangerous chemical weapons and biological weapons. Calling them 'illegal' seems perfectly reasonable, doesn't it?" Admiral Sengoku remarked casually.

Borsalino stroked his chin and nodded. "I see. So this so-called hiring might also mean giving criminals a chance to redeem themselves through meritorious service? I get it. Important people like you always love beating around the bush."

In fact, Borsalino did uncover something extraordinary during this investigation: those dangerous scientists were researching lineage factors. The World Government promptly launched a severe crackdown on the MADS research team afterward.

As Borsalino spoke, he stepped out of the elevator. The moment he looked up and spotted Kuzan, he said in surprise, "Kuzan? What happened to your eye? Did someone hit you?"

That was right. Kuzan's left eye was still ringed with a very obvious bruise—a genuine black eye. One look was enough to tell that someone had punched him hard.

Borsalino's surprised question reminded Kuzan of what had happened yesterday. Ortolan had started some campus violence on the training grounds and beaten the entire class flat. Teacher Zephyr had then sent Kuzan in to put an end to the disturbance.

The facts proved that, as fellow Logia-type Devil Fruit users, and with several more years of Marine salary and experience under his belt, Kuzan really was much stronger than Ortolan at this point in time.

The moment Kuzan entered the fray, he brought the situation under control. Still, he had not escaped unscathed. At the very end, perhaps because he had let his guard down, Ortolan landed a hard punch straight on his eye socket, leaving him like this.

Honestly, if Kuzan had not been so physically tough, that punch alone could have knocked him down. That would have been truly embarrassing!

His physical condition alone showed that the Ice-Ice Fruit had not made Kuzan what he was. Kuzan himself was already a monster. He and the Ice-Ice Fruit complemented each other, each making the other greater.

"Ahem, you know how I like wearing an eye mask when I sleep. I got up to use the bathroom last night while I was still half-asleep, forgot to take it off, and walked into the corner of a door. That's all. No big deal," Kuzan said, lowering his head as he tried to brush Borsalino off and enter the elevator.

Borsalino watched Kuzan enter the elevator and leave with the doors closing behind him, looking puzzled. Only then did he turn to Admiral Sengoku and ask strangely, "If I remember correctly, when Kuzan and I went on missions together, even if he really had... certain needs at night, he would freeze it, turn it into ice, and toss it all into the toilet in the morning... I asked him why he was such a freak, and he said he was too lazy to get out of bed. Could it be that he's planning to fall in love lately, so he's trying to change those bad habits?"

Sengoku was baffled too. It was like he had accidentally stumbled onto some huge gossip. Kuzan was really that filthy?

"And how do you deal with it when you get up in the middle of the night?" Sengoku could not help asking.

The instant the words left his mouth, though, he felt that he had gone too far. That was far too private a question and extremely rude!

Yet Borsalino answered boldly, "I usually open the window and fly straight into the moonlight..."

And you had the nerve to criticize someone else's bad habits?

Sengoku nodded silently, thinking that once he was done with his current work, he needed to pay more attention to the Marines' moral and cultural development... Otherwise, if all the future Marine officers turned into perverts with strange fetishes, Marineford's atmosphere would become utterly dreadful!

Come to think of it, several times when he had gone home after a night shift, it had not been raining, yet the air had felt strangely damp... Could it be?

For some reason, Sengoku could not stop thinking about it... How did Sakazuki deal with this problem? An image even appeared in his mind of Sakazuki roaring, "Great Eruption!"

If you can't find the book by its title, try searching for the author—it may have simply been renamed!

To keep his mental health from being contaminated, Sengoku hurriedly cleared those random thoughts from his mind. Then he said, "Kuzan was hit by that Ortolan yesterday. That's why his eye looks like that. All right, enough nonsense. Let's go..."

Elsewhere, Ortolan was standing before a mirror in the bedroom of Garp's home courtyard.

Garp, outside the door, seemed somewhat impatient. He abruptly shoved the door open and said, "Why are you dawdling in here? Didn't we agree to visit your classmates in the hospital together?"

The moment Garp entered, he froze, then asked in astonishment, "What the hell are you doing!?"

He was so surprised because Ortolan was selecting suitable glasses from a pile that clearly looked newly bought, trying them on one after another.

Ortolan was not wearing his usual violent-looking black tank top today. Instead, he wore a white dress shirt and suit pants, paired with gold-rimmed glasses. To be honest... the whole look was utterly absurd!

Especially with his body standing over three meters tall, his muscles were practically about to burst through that shirt!

Even elegant leather shoes looked aggressive on his feet!

"Mr. Garp, just in time. Do these glasses suit me?" Ortolan asked, pushing up the gold-rimmed frames on his nose.

Garp's face twitched before he cursed, "Right now, you look like a dockside thug trying to dress up as some refined scum—the kind that would seriously damage the Marines' image just by walking outside! What the hell are you thinking, dressing yourself up in all this flashy garbage!?"

"Ahem..." Ortolan coughed awkwardly, then said, "Well... I was worried that what happened yesterday might make things too tense between our classmates and colleagues. So today, I wanted to show everyone my cultured side. Also, don't keep judging people through tinted glasses. Teacher Zephyr said I have a real advantage in cultural studies. Maybe one day I can become a wise and brave scholarly general like Mr. Sengoku!"

So as a promising future scholarly general and strategist, wearing gold-rimmed glasses was perfectly reasonable, right?

Although that was what he said—and what he thought—after looking into the mirror, Ortolan still grimaced and removed his gold-rimmed glasses... They were just too damn ugly!

Then he looked at the huge pile of glasses on the table and asked Garp, "Can these be returned?"

"What do you think? Of course not!" Garp said with a mocking expression.

"What if I say Vice Admiral Garp has my back? That shop owner definitely wouldn't dare offend me!" Ortolan said very seriously.

Garp paused, then cursed furiously, "Don't you dare use my name to pull this kind of crap outside, brat! It'll damage my image!"

Ortolan fell silent for a moment before stabbing him right in the heart. "Mr. Garp, although I respect you, I still have to say this: anyone who has known you for more than seven days probably doesn't think you have a good image to begin with."

"Brat, don't think I won't beat you just because you're wearing glasses!" Garp grumbled.

Garp cursed Ortolan a couple of times first, but then he seemed a little guilty, knowing exactly what kind of person he was. He moved closer to Ortolan and said, "Then give me some advice. How can I make my image outside brighter, more... you know, better?"

Ortolan stroked his chin and said, "How about this? I'll teach you a line. Learn it, and people will definitely admire and approve of you even more afterward!"

"How do I say it?" Garp became interested and hurriedly asked.

"Whenever someone praises you as the Marine Hero in the future, saying you're amazing and great, give him a warm pat on the shoulder, raise a thumbs-up, and tell him with a smile, 'I'm no hero. And you, my friend, are the real hero!'" Ortolan said with complete seriousness.

Garp paused and imagined the scene... Come to think of it, that really did seem to elevate the whole thing!?

"I understand!" Garp said, looking as though he had been enlightened.