Still a Little Short

Gern paused slightly as he looked at the wanted poster.

Reading his expression, Asahi immediately added, "Gern, I know you'll be promoted to Headquarters sooner or later!

Keeping someone as talented as you in West Blue would be an utter waste!" As he spoke, his smile grew a little strained.

"I-it's just... well, you did come from our Branch 133, after all..."

Gern finally stopped and turned to look at Asahi.

Of course he knew what Asahi was thinking. The Marines of this era were unlike those of later years, and places at the academy at Headquarters were precious and limited.

Without exception, the elite Marines promoted to Headquarters were the rising stars of branches across the Four Blues.

That was why the Marines of this era had such a strong attachment to returning home in glory.

Even Garp, who had graduated from the academy at Headquarters, still frequently returned to his hometown in East Blue after making a name for himself.

It was both a desire to protect and a deep attachment.

In the office, the last rays of sunset shone through the window onto the side of Gern's face, outlining his stern features.

"Branch commander," he said slowly, "I'm from West Blue."

Gern's simple declaration-"I'm from West Blue"-

made Asahi's face flush bright red, fine beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

He rubbed his hands together and stammered for a long while before finally blurting out, "That's right! Hahaha! Gern Reginald Sigma belongs to our West Blue!!"

"Sigh." Watching Asahi's excitement, a flicker of understanding passed through Gern's eyes.

The West Blue branches had always been on the fringes of the Marine hierarchy, known as a "place of exile."

And an elite Headquarters Marine who had risen from Branch 133

could indeed bring considerable political capital to someone like Asahi, who would probably spend his entire life at a branch.

Especially when it came to future funding allocations from Headquarters. Connections and favors mattered in the Marines, too.

If Gern established himself at Headquarters, the West Blue branches would also reap the benefits.

"Don't worry," Gern said calmly. "This is where I started, after all."

Asahi looked as though he had been granted a pardon, even the fat on his face relaxing. "Wonderful! Wonderful!

Gern, I'm telling you, you'll definitely get promoted to Marine Headquarters. This is the one achievement your record still needs." With that, Asahi gave the wanted poster a heavy pat.

"Indeed." Gern nodded and continued walking.

Asahi tried to follow, but a single look from Gern stopped him.

"I'd like some time alone."

"Yes, yes, yes! Get some rest! Get some rest!" Asahi bowed and scraped as he backed away, not forgetting to bellow at the nearby soldiers before leaving.

"What are you all standing around for? Can't you see Warrant Officer Gern is tired? Get back to work!"

At Branch 133's naval harbor, Gern walked alone toward the cliff behind the branch.

The view was wide open here, overlooking all of West Blue.

The sun had sunk completely below the horizon, leaving the sky a deep blue-purple.

He unfastened the Black Blade, Eight Desolations, from his back, gently brushing his fingers over its bandage wrappings.

It had been a year.

Over that year, he had wiped out sixteen pirate crews, nearly clearing West Blue of its pirate forces.

But Gern knew perfectly well that these so-called achievements were nothing in the eyes of the monsters at Headquarters...

Whitebeard was searching for sons in the New World.

Golden Lion had already occupied dozens of islands.

The whereabouts of Roger's fleet remained a mystery...

And at Marine Headquarters, Sengoku, Garp, Zephyr... those names represented the true pinnacle of power.

"West Blue is too small."

Gern raised his hand, and a mass of pure white vibration particles appeared in his palm.

The particles glowed faintly in the night, like a compressed star.

He was still nowhere near the limits of developing the Tremor-Tremor Fruit. Developing its powers was not as simple as he had imagined, either; every move demanded extremely precise control.

Over the past year, he had only figured out its basic abilities: elemental transformation, defense, attacks, vibration waves, short-range teleportation...

Fortunately, the Tremor-Tremor Fruit's baseline was already the power of tremors. As for its ceiling, to a man possessing knowledge and memories from later years, it was naturally limitless.

"As for Haki..." Gern clenched his fist. Light burst through the gaps between his fingers, and cracks appeared in the surrounding air.

At first, he had tried copying some of the training methods from the original anime, but he had gained nothing...

Without Armament Haki, he could not fight Logia users.

Without Observation Haki, even elemental transformation would not keep him from being injured if he could not anticipate a top-tier fighter's movements.

As for Conqueror's Haki...

"Zephyr..." A sharp, hungry gleam flashed in Gern's eyes.

The Admiral renowned as Black Arm stood at the pinnacle of Armament Haki.

If he could receive his guidance...

The sea breeze blew, making Gern's cape snap in the wind.

He turned toward Marineford, his gaze gradually firming.

Once he dealt with the Blood Spear Pirates and his achievements met the requirements, that would be his next destination.

Meanwhile, in the shadows beside the naval harbor, Branch Commander Asahi stood with his neck hunched, holding a bag of seaweed rice rolls that had gone completely cold.

They were the care package he had originally intended to deliver to Gern himself.

Fine beads of cold sweat seeped from his forehead, glistening on his oily skin beneath the dim lights. His fingers unconsciously tightened around the bag, making it rustle softly.

"So... so alike!"

Asahi's pupils trembled slightly, and the image of that man rose unbidden in his mind.

The monster who, during the Marines' attack on the Rocks Pirates four years ago, had shattered an entire island and triggered a tsunami through his power alone.

"If we hadn't confirmed that it was a Logia ability, I'd have thought he'd obtained that man's fruit..."

Hidden behind a shipping container, he had just witnessed the glowing mass of vibrations gathering in Gern's palm.

Those pure tremors, seemingly capable of tearing space apart, had made him shudder instinctively.

At the same time, however, a twisted excitement welled up from the depths of his heart, like a gambler winning the biggest bet of his life.

"That kid Gern..." Asahi licked his dry lips, the fat on his face bunching into an utterly sycophantic smile.

"He's only fifteen this year, younger than those three rookie monsters at Marine Headquarters. He's definitely going to become someone important..."

At that thought, Asahi glanced back at the hazy figure on the cliff and cautiously began backing away.

His leather shoe landed in a puddle with a splash that sounded piercingly loud on the silent dock, startling him into freezing on the spot.

Only after making sure Gern had not noticed the noise did he let out a long breath and continue tiptoeing backward.

"I was the first to latch onto this rising star!"

He was already making plans in his head: Once Gern becomes a Headquarters Vice Admiral-no, perhaps even an Admiral...

No, by then, West Blue's Branch 133 will definitely have been upgraded to the main West Blue branch. Haha!

And I, Asahi, will be its commander!

The night wind swept past, and Asahi suddenly shivered.

"No, I can't waste time. I need to hurry and get all the intelligence on the Blood Spear Pirates.

Then we can send our Star of West Blue straight to Headquarters! Hahaha!"

As he spoke, Asahi took one final look toward the cliff. Gern's figure was no longer visible.

Only the sound of waves striking the rocks echoed through the night.