A New Assignment

The next morning, when Jack pushed open the door to Tsuru's office, a new uniform lay folded on her desk. The white fabric glowed softly beneath the fluorescent lights. Its collar faced up, its cuffs were aligned, and every fold looked ruler-straight. The epaulets rested above the collar, their silver-white patterns catching flecks of light.

Tsuru did not look up. Her pen moved quickly across the page. Only after finishing the last stroke did she set it down and lean back in her chair. "Put it on."

Jack unbuttoned his old uniform and hung the jacket on the coat rack by the door. The new uniform's fabric was much heavier than what the training camp had issued. Soft fleece lined the inside of the collar, and the seams at the shoulders had two extra rows of reinforcement. He put it on, fastened the buttons one by one, then pinned the epaulets to either side of the collar. The metal clasps clicked sharply into the fabric. Click, click.

The fabric pulled faintly across his shoulders, but the seams held. He rolled his shoulders. A brass cuff button brushed the edge of the desk, leaving a faint gleaming streak.

Tsuru's gaze moved away from the seams at his shoulders. She took a document from a drawer and placed it on the desk. The red seal of Staff Headquarters was stamped on the cover, its ink still slightly raised and not quite dry. She slid the document toward him and tapped the cover.

"Four Seas Special Inspector."

Jack looked down at the words. Black ink on white paper, in a standard format. Yet seeing "Four Seas" and "Special" together gave the title a strange weight. He picked up the document. Its paper was thicker than ordinary official stationery, its edges neatly cut. He opened to the first page, which was packed with clauses and descriptions of his authority. His gaze paused on the line granting him "temporary authority to execute wanted criminals."

Tsuru's voice came from across the desk, as flat as if she were reading an inventory list. "You won't be part of the regular fleet structure, attached to any branch, or assigned to any flotilla. You'll report directly to Staff Headquarters and operate independently across the four seas. You won't need prior approval for an execution. You can make the decision and carry it out on the spot, but you'll have to submit a report afterward."

Jack looked up from the page at Tsuru's face. Her expression had not changed, as though this were a minor matter. It was not. The Marines had appointed Four Seas Special Inspectors before, but none of their careers had ended well. Too much power and too little oversight made trouble all too easy.

"On the normal promotion track, you'd spend three years as a fleet vice-captain at headquarters before you could even be considered for colonel." Tsuru tapped the desk twice. "But I saw what you did in the West Blue. You're suited to this. The job doesn't require you to sit through meetings. It requires you to kill pirates."

Jack closed the document and folded it, but did not put it in his inner pocket yet. He watched Tsuru and waited for her to continue.

Tsuru leaned back in her chair and clasped her hands on the desk. Her fingers were long, with prominent knuckles and neatly trimmed nails. The fluorescent light hummed above her. A sea breeze from the window lifted the corner of a nautical chart. "Two restrictions."

She raised her eyes to Jack. Her gaze had grown heavier, as though she were weighing whether a decision already made could actually be carried out.

"First. You cannot attack the Celestial Dragons or anyone under their direct protection."

Jack's brows moved slightly, almost imperceptibly. If I don't kill a Celestial Dragon, how am I supposed to awaken Conqueror's Haki?

His fingers paused on the document's cover. He could feel the raised pattern of the red seal beneath his fingertips. The ink was still damp, and a little came away on his finger. He glanced at the red mark, then looked up.

"I can do that."

Tsuru studied his face for about three seconds. She was not scrutinizing him; she was confirming something. Jack looked as he always did. He neither frowned nor hesitated. She had met too many people who said "I can do that" while plotting something else. What made this young man different was that he sounded as though he were stating a fact, not making a promise. That left her less certain, if anything. But she did not press him.

"Second." Tsuru's voice grew a little softer, though her tone did not change. "Don't die."

Jack looked at her and was silent for two seconds. She had said "Don't die" exactly as she had said "First," without emphasis or pause, as though reciting a standard clause. But her fingers curled slightly against the desk, her knuckles whitening, before she quickly relaxed them.

"Easy," Jack said.

Tsuru's fingers relaxed. She picked up a second document and opened it to the first page. It was a map of the East Blue marked with five red dots. Beside each was a photograph and several lines of text. She pushed it toward Jack.

"The East Blue. Five wanted Devil Fruit users still at large." Tsuru's voice returned to its earlier level tone. "The first has a bounty of twenty-four million Beli. He's a Paramecia Spring-Spring Fruit user, currently active around the Goa Kingdom. The second ate the Zoan Chameleon-Chameleon Fruit. His bounty is thirty-eight million. He specializes in disguise and infiltration and was seen on Dawn Island three months ago. You can read about the other three yourself."

Jack studied the photographs and text. Beside the first red dot was a wanted poster showing a man with a narrow face and an upturned mouth. The picture did not show the effects of the Spring-Spring Fruit, but the notes described them clearly. Jack's gaze moved from the first dot to the fifth at an even pace, as if committing the details to memory.

Tsuru said, "You don't need to take out all of them. Kill two or three, then come back and report. You have one month."

She lifted her teacup and took a sip. The tea was hot, and white steam rose slowly from its surface beneath the fluorescent light. She set the cup down with a soft tap.

"If you can do it, you keep the job. If you can't, the assignment is revoked and you go back to the West Blue."

Jack folded the document and slipped it into his new uniform's inner pocket. As the paper touched his chest, he felt that the pocket's fabric was thicker than in his old uniform. A thin waterproof lining had been sewn inside it too. He pressed a hand against the pocket, then looked at Tsuru.

"Anything else?"

The corner of Tsuru's mouth twitched, barely. "Before you leave on your own, go see Garp. He wants to give you special training."

Jack's hand paused over his inner pocket. "Training in what?"

"You'll find out when you get there." Tsuru moved her teacup aside, picked up her pen, and opened another document. The pen was already moving across the page as she spoke, her gaze fixed on her work and her tone once again calm and businesslike. "He says your Six Powers still have a long way to go. Spend a few days with him and learn as much as you can. He said three days."

Three days. Jack did not bargain. If Garp said the training would last three days, then it would last three days—not one more or one less. He turned toward the door, his boots striking the marble floor with dull thuds. He gripped the handle. The brass gave a faint creak in his palm, and the red ink on his fingertip left a light mark on it.

He pushed the door open and stepped out. Tsuru's voice came from behind him, quiet but clear.

"Learn Haki before you go to the East Blue. Don't make me hear news of your death at headquarters."

Jack did not turn around. He walked out, and the door closed behind him. The latch slid into the doorframe with a crisp click.

People came and went in the corridor. A captain carrying a stack of documents passed him and looked up. The captain's gaze paused on the two bars and three stars at Jack's collar before moving on. Two second lieutenants walking side by side parted three paces ahead of him and went around on either side. The corridors of Marine Headquarters were always like this. Everyone was in a hurry, yet everyone still took a second look when they passed someone of note.

Jack walked down the corridor beneath a row of fluorescent lights. Their stark white glow spread across the polished marble floor. He kept an even pace, his boot soles striking the stone in a steady rhythm.

At the stairs, he stopped and drew the document from his inner pocket for another look. "Four Seas Special Inspector" was printed on the cover. The edges of the red seal were sharp, its ink slightly raised above the paper. He opened to the first page and looked again at the five red dots and the notes beneath their photographs.

He descended the steps. Sunlight poured through the main doors, carrying Marineford's familiar sea breeze and salt air. Dozens of warships lay in the harbor, their cannon barrels glinting coldly in the sun and their Marine flags snapping in the wind. Farther out, the horizon stretched between sea and sky, dividing one expanse of blue from the other.

His gaze rested on the sea for a moment before turning toward the north side of the harbor. Garp lived up on the slope there, in an unremarkable gray-white building. A crooked tree stood by its door, with Senbei crumbs scattered beneath it year-round. Jack headed that way.

Back in the office, Tsuru set down her pen. She had reached the third page of the document. Her fingers paused on the paper before she picked up her teacup. The tea had gone cold. She took a sip and put the cup back. Outside the window, Jack was crossing the parade ground. At two and a half meters tall, he stood out in the crowd. People parted around him like water around a reef.

Tsuru watched him disappear around the corner on the north side of the harbor, then lowered her head and resumed writing. The scratch of pen against paper echoed through the quiet office for a long time.