The 22nd Navy Branch in Action

"You might as well make yourself clearer."

The Den Den Mushi inside the base commander's office mimicked the puzzled voice of the navy headquarters operator.

Maynard's chest was wrapped in thick bandages, and he leaned crookedly against the hospital bed, the veins on his forehead throbbing violently.

"Wasn't I clear enough? The base is haunted!"

"I was just lifting a barbell like a good soldier when my foot inexplicably slipped, and my ribs got broken. The soldiers under me are even weirder, spraining ankles while walking, guns going off by accident, choking on drinking water—half the base has gotten hurt!"

"Is it possible that you caused a body imbalance due to overtraining? Maybe the soldiers are simply having bad luck?"

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Maynard almost jumped out of bed, a sharp pain pulling at his wounds, and he gasped for breath,

"My body is as robust as can be; this is definitely ghosts at work, bringing bad luck to our base!

Right, I just got word that three other bases in the South Blue had the exact same weird stuff happen!"

The other end of the line fell into a brief silence.

One instance was an accident, two instances were coincidence, but four happening consecutively meant it was no longer either.

"The situation is logged. I will report it to the higher-ups immediately; please wait for notification."

With a click, the Den Den Mushi's eyes slowly closed.

Marineford, Navy Headquarters, communications room.

Over a hundred work stations were arranged in the huge hall, with an operator sitting in front of each one. The back-and-forth "Buru Buru" sounds of the Den Den Mushi merged into a single monotonous hum.

This was the neural center of the navy, processing tens of thousands of reports from tens of millions of marines across the world every day.

The young operator who had just answered the call put down the receiver and walked over to the bookshelf behind him.

In the center of the bookshelf sat a hardcover classic thicker than a brick, with gold characters hot-stamped on the spine: --Devil Fruit Encyclopedia: Navy Authorized Edition.

The total number of marines worldwide exceeded ten million, while those directly under headquarters numbered only a little over one hundred thousand.

With such a massive base, the bizarre situations occurring daily were as numerous as the hairs on an ox. Genuine accidents accounted for only a tiny fraction of them; the vast majority were caused by unknown Devil Fruit users making trouble.

This was the experience the navy had summarized over so many years.

The operator's fingertips brushed across the spine, pulled the book out, and flipped through the pages with a rustle.

The Devil Fruit Encyclopedia came in versions as well, the most rudimentary version containing only illustrations and no names.

This navy copy recorded hundreds of confirmed Devil Fruit illustrations and specific abilities, which was the foundation of the World Government.

Even if its actual ruling power over the world wasn't quite strong, and even if its member states made up only half of the total nations globally, there were some things that no organization other than it could produce.

"Found it."

The operator's fingertips stopped on a certain page.

"Paramecia - Lucky-Lucky Fruit: allows the user to extract others' luck and convert it into their own fortune. The target being extracted from will continuously encounter bad luck, resulting in injuries and financial loss at best, and death at worst. The ability has extremely high concealment and is difficult to detect through conventional means."

He closed the encyclopedia, put it back in its original place, asked a colleague to temporarily take over his work station, turned around, and walked out of the communications room quickly.

Marshal's office.

Kong stood in front of the filing cabinet, listened to the operator's report, and nodded faintly.

"Got it. The Lucky-Lucky Fruit, eh. I'll arrange for an officer in the South Blue to follow up."

After the operator saluted and stepped back, Kong casually pulled the capability user dossier for the South Blue jurisdiction out of the rack.

For fruits with such bizarre effects and that easily caused civilian casualties, the navy had always kept them under key surveillance; whenever active users existed, files were created and records kept.

He flipped through a few pages with a rustle, his brow lifting slightly.

"No record? It's a new face."

The unknown implied variables, which meant spending more time and energy on investigation.

Kong put down the dossier and tapped his fingers gently against the desktop.

The Lucky-Lucky Fruit was far too dangerous for ordinary officers, and the probability of capsizing in the gutter was simply too high. Only by sending someone with solid strength could the matter be resolved smoothly.

"Who holds the highest rank in the South Blue jurisdiction right now..."

He muttered to himself, then pulled out another officer garrison dossier.

After flipping two pages, his gaze paused on a certain name, and a knowing smile appeared at the corners of his mouth.

"Kuzan that brat happened to go back to his hometown in the South Blue for vacation. Let's use him. With his strength, nothing should go wrong."

Kong sat back behind his desk, picked up the exclusive Den Den Mushi, and dialed the number.

"Buru Buru Buru..."

The Den Den Mushi rang for a long time before it was picked up lazily.

"Hello--Marshal Kong?"

A lazy voice came through the receiver, with the faint sound of ice cubes clinking against a glass in the background,

"Why did you think of calling me, old man? My vacation isn't over yet."

"Your vacation ends early."

"I have a matter for you to handle. Four consecutive navy bases in the South Blue have encountered unknown attacks, suspected to be a Lucky-Lucky Fruit user..."

The other end of the line fell silent for a few seconds, followed immediately by a helpless sigh.

"Ah... What a pain. Fine, I get it. I'll head out tomorrow."