Ignoring what the man was saying, Bill was both amazed and horrified. He was amazed that someone of such unbelievable size existed—this "Nelson Royal" must have weighed close to a thousand pounds—but he was also horrified by what this strange world had done to a heroic figure like Horatio Nelson.
Bill had known since childhood that there were certain similarities between Earth and this world, beyond just the English language and the number system. The cultural elements always seemed a bit distorted. For example, Rans's childhood hero was Wyatt Holiday, in whom the features of both Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday could easily be recognized.
In Miss Angie's lessons, Bill had been read passages that practically repeated the works of Machiavelli and Dante word-for-word. Most philosophical discussions were simply variations on political debates.
And now, looking at the creature before him, Bill thought that "Britain's God of War" would be turning in his grave if he could see what had become of him in this world.
Walking up to the enormous man, Bill tapped his massive cheek, then looked to Smoker and asked, "Can he even walk?"
Nelson shouted, "Nonsense! Who called me 'it'?! I—"
Smoker grimaced, shook his head, and said, "No, it takes six strong men to lift him."
Still in shock, Bill tapped the tattoo of the Marine Base emblem on Nelson's huge belly, and as his fat began to ripple across his body, Bill, addressing Smoker, asked, "How does he even manage to wipe himself?"
This question clearly embarrassed the fat man, and he didn't answer. Normally, Bill wouldn't humiliate someone like this, but aside from being cursed at the moment he entered the room, Smoker had only given him the vaguest details about the past of this former captain of a massive galleon.
Simply put, this Nelson was an insufferable boor.
Why was this man, who once commanded a fleet, sitting alone in a room? It was because not a single member of his crew had wanted to stay with him when they were offered the chance to transfer.
That spoke volumes, but not the whole story, and the main question bothering Bill was why Smoker was willing to give away a giant galleon worth hundreds of millions of Beli just for Bill to take on this fat second-in-command.
Looking Bill square in the eye, Smoker's tone didn't change as he said, "Orderlies are taking care of him."
For someone who had lived more than a hundred years, it was hard to be truly shocked, but even Bill couldn't hold back his surprise as he blurted out, "How can a man like this even serve in the Marines?!"
Nelson tried to object: "For your information, I wa—"
But Bill, who stood nine feet tall and was far bigger than Nelson, placed his large hand over Nelson's mouth, silencing him.
Addressing the fat man for the first time, Bill leaned down and said, "Quiet. If you speak again or try to bite me, I'll hit you on the lips."
At this, Nelson glanced from Bill to Smoker and started to visibly sweat.
Catching Nelson's eye, the Captain of Loguetown grumbled again, "Captain Ox, why don't we go? Nelson looks tired."
A bit perplexed, but understanding nothing good would come of dragging things out, Bill released Nelson's mouth. No sooner was he free than Nelson began yelling again.
But Bill was not a man who tolerated lies. Hearing Nelson's shouts, Bill gave him a quick smack on the lips.
What counted as a "light" hit for Bill was enough to stun the fat man. For several seconds, his face flickered with fear, then bewilderment, then rage. As Smoker and Bill walked away, Nelson howled, "Smoker! "How could you let him hit me?!"
Bill: "What did I tell you?"
Striding back across the room in an instant, Bill landed two more light slaps on Nelson's face.
But this time, Bill wasn't content to just walk away. Holding the crying man's mouth shut, he quietly said, "Look at yourself! Before you open your mouth again, think about why you ended up in this position!"
Truth be told, Bill didn't know where his anger was coming from. All he really knew was that Nelson was a tyrant, and it was likely his arrogance that had cost those sailors their lives.
After that, Bill followed Smoker out of the room. As soon as they were in the corridor, he asked, "So what's his story, and why can't you handle it yourself?"
They entered an office further down the hallway, and Bill sat across from Smoker. Lighting up two large cigars, Smoker took a deep drag and blew smoke upward.
"There are two things making this situation tricky. First, he graduated in the top three from the Marineford Academy. Second, he's a noble from the kingdom of Fraus, and—while he's fifth in line for the throne—that isn't easy to deal with."
When Bill heard this, he didn't care that Nelson was a noble—he was more concerned that 'Nelson Royal' was a noble from the kingdom of 'Fraus'!
Chuckling at the absurdity of it, Bill didn't share the joke with Smoker, and instead, they discussed for a while what to do about the more than two thousand refugees waiting on the ships