The officer froze, then immediately saluted. "Yes, sir!"
Once the officer had left, Xia Le turned his gaze back to the documents on his desk.
Without question, Fujitora Issho was a formidable fighter. At the same time, he held strong, unwavering beliefs and ideals.
He met the standards expected of a Marine.
He was powerful, had the right convictions, and had come to them of his own accord.
A smile touched Xia Le's lips, and he felt a little wistful. This was the advantage of being a Marine, of standing on the side the world considered just.
No matter how the anime glorified the beauty and passion of pirates, in the eyes of ordinary people and the world at large, pirates were still pirates.
In everyday life, who would truly trust pirates notorious for their brutality?
A quarter of an hour later, someone knocked on his office door.
Xia Le looked up, a hint of surprise entering his eyes when he saw the visitor.
"What brings you here?"
The visitor had short green hair and three swords at his waist. He was Roronoa Zoro, the disciple Xia Le had recently taken on.
"You have the nerve to ask me that?!"
Zoro's brow twitched, and the words practically burst through his lips.
Ever since Xia Le had personally accepted him as a disciple, he had endured what amounted to an unprecedented disaster.
It was bad enough that his teacher ignored him, but the Marines had even forcibly enrolled him in their academy. To make matters more absurd, he had started studying the knowledge a Marine was expected to master.
The academic classes seemed endless, yet there was not the slightest sign of anything that would improve his strength.
The Marines were thoroughly training him as one of their own—and as a