Over the next few days, as the date of the senior leadership meeting at Marine Headquarters drew ever closer,
Gern, the base commander who was usually nowhere to be found, settled down for once and dutifully stayed at G-10 Base.
He even... took up the official duties he had all but forgotten.
On the top floor of the base, the office that had once been spacious enough to gallop a horse through was now piled high with documents of every kind.
Gern sat behind his broad desk, a hastily procured pair of nonprescription glasses perched on his nose. His brow slightly furrowed, he bent over the reports and applications, scribbling comments at a furious pace.
His serious, focused demeanor was worlds apart from his usual image: either tearing the Training Ground apart in a fight or lazily basking in the sun on Vacation Island.
Just then, someone unceremoniously kicked the office door open.
Tesoro shuffled inside with some difficulty, carrying a stack of documents taller than he was.
His eyes immediately landed on Gern, who sat in his chair radiating the air of a "desk-duty Admiral."
"Huh???"
Tesoro froze on the spot, an exceedingly strange expression crossing his face.
Unfamiliar. Far too unfamiliar!
"Admiral Gern... is actually reviewing documents?" The scene before Tesoro felt utterly alien, even a little horrifying.
Noticing Tesoro staring at him as though he had seen a ghost, Gern slowly took off his glasses and tossed them onto the desk.
Then he firmly rubbed his aching brow, a trace of fatigue in his voice. "What? Haven't Stella and Little Gold-your daughter-already moved to G-10 Base?
"I gave you time off to spend with your family. Why have you come back here?"
Only then did Tesoro snap out of his daze. He carefully set the documents in