After Kōshirō's wedding, his transfer order was promptly delivered.
He didn't say much about Yoriichi's arrangement, just smiled and accepted it.
"Kōshirō, Vice Admiral Yoriichi said if you're not satisfied with this new position, you can tell him at any time."
"You know his personality, he would never force you to do something you don't want to."
Kyros, who had brought the order, couldn't help adding that one more sentence.
He had spent all night thinking.
If one day he truly found someone he wanted to protect, but that person didn't want him to keep sailing… then maybe he wouldn't choose to stay with them.
He had grown used to this life, and more than that, he believed he'd already found what he truly wanted to do.
He wouldn't abandon that for the sake of maintaining a relationship.
So, when he passed on Yoriichi's message, he looked up at Kōshirō with hope.
He wanted Kōshirō to refuse. He saw him as a kindred spirit, someone like himself.
"Is that so?"
"Vice Admiral Yoriichi really is a gentle person."
"I accept the transfer. For him to entrust me with something this important… I'll give it my all."
"A Navy Swordsmanship Academy, huh..."
"Kyros, do you know what Vice Admiral Yoriichi said to me the very first time we met?"
Kyros focused, trying to recall that first meeting.
"He already had the idea for a Swordsmanship Academy back then."
"I'll do everything I can to support him."
Kōshirō smiled as he said it. Ever since joining the Marines, he'd felt at peace under Yoriichi's leadership.
There was no need to second-guess. He just had to follow Yoriichi's path and carry out his orders.
He never had to wonder if those orders would clash with his values.
Kyros said nothing more after hearing that.
It seemed Yoriichi understood Kōshirō even better than he did. In the end, Kōshirō was just like him, a man of conviction.
Kōshirō's transfer didn't cause much stir within the Marine division. But the moment the announcement came that the Swordsmanship Academy would begin admitting civilians, it sparked a huge sensation in Dressrosa.
In this world, it was incredibly difficult for the weak to rise in status.
Outside of acquiring a Devil Fruit, there weren't many paths to ascend.
Even those who dreamed of going to sea and becoming strong often met their end in some nameless stretch of ocean.
The New World wasn't like the four Blues, hailstorms, hurricanes, and natural disasters could strike at any moment.
Even joining the Navy meant putting your life on the line. Most who touched a gun never bothered to train their bodies.
So when the Navy Swordsmanship Academy opened enrollment for young civilians, it instantly drew attention.
Their territory was large, and there were plenty of empty training fields, hosting a thousand or more trainees was no issue.
The real problem... was manpower.
Yoriichi had underestimated his division's influence. Over 1,100 youths applied in the first round.
They didn't have nearly enough instructors.
"What now?" Kōshirō asked Yoriichi, reporting the dilemma. "One instructor can handle, at most, 40 students."
"Any more, and the quality of teaching drops sharply."
"We've got 1,123 students already. And more are sure to come. We'll need at least 50 instructors."
"But… we don't have anywhere near that many who are qualified to teach swordsmanship."
Yoriichi's solution was simple.
"Pull in as many sword instructors as you can. The rest, assign physically trained Marines to serve as fitness instructors."
"Swordsmanship starts with the body."
"Kōshirō, you've got experience teaching. Make sure no one blindly copies our own Marine training regime."
"These are young civilians. They don't have the same endurance or experience."
"Focus on teaching. Training intensity has to be gradual. If they want to improve, it'll depend on their own motivation."
Most of the applicants, he figured, would drop out, just like kids who enroll in extracurricular classes and quickly quit.
The number who would truly persist? Only a few.
Kōshirō nodded and left immediately to begin preparations.
"Vice Admiral Yoriichi," Borsalino called from the couch, cup of tea in hand. "Is all of this really okay?"
"We haven't taken action against pirates in a while."
"Doesn't this drift a bit far from the original mission of our branch?"
"Isn't hunting pirates more meaningful than this?"
He peered out from the sofa, drawing out his words slowly.
He didn't really understand Yoriichi anymore.
With his strength, Yoriichi could easily rise in fame by taking down powerful pirates. Instead, he was focusing on all this thankless work.
"There is meaning," Yoriichi said plainly.
"The future will always belong to the young."
"If we don't start changing things from the bottom, no matter how many pirates we kill, it's useless."
"This environment will just breed more."
"We've got decades at best. The sea is vast. How many pirates can we even find in that time?"
He poured himself a cup of tea, leaned back, and stared at the ceiling.
The more he understood this world, the more insignificant he felt.
Believe it or not, after capturing Roger and defeating Douglas Bullet, Dressrosa had entered an unprecedented period of peace.
Not just Dressrosa, neighboring islands as well.
It was as if pirates had vanished overnight.
Yoriichi wasn't about to recklessly lead expeditions without intelligence. Every sortie cost resources.
Instead, he organized squads of three in modified speedboats to patrol the nearby waters.
But those had limited range. They could only go out and back within a day, useful for alerts, but not much more.
In truth, Yoriichi was like a caged tiger, trapped on Dressrosa with no outlet for his strength.
"Still," Borsalino muttered, "taking down a major pirate would still help a lot of people."
"Sure, most pirates wander around, but some… are different."
"Here. A little something I got through a friend."
He pulled a folder from inside his coat and dropped it on the table in front of Yoriichi.
Yoriichi raised a brow and opened it.
A log pose fell into his hand. A permanent one.
And alongside it, a set of documents slid out.
"What's this?"
"Ever heard of the Big Mom Pirates?" Borsalino asked with a grin.
"Captain: Charlotte Linlin. Bounty: 3.58 billion."
"Unlike other roaming pirates, she's taken territory, 34 islands, centered on Whole Cake Island, collectively called Totto Land."
"She offers sanctuary to hunted pirates… while exploiting the civilians on those islands."
"We can't catch every pirate, but this one? We can deal with her."
Yoriichi flipped through the files, detailed maps of Totto Land, strength breakdowns of the Big Mom Pirates, officer info… solid intel.
He smirked.
"Well, well. You actually got off your lazy ass and did something. I'm impressed."
He glanced at Borsalino knowingly.
For this kind of intel, especially on a territory like Totto Land? His "friend" must be very well connected.
After all, Big Mom's islands were covered in sea slugs that detected intruders.
Getting this information wasn't easy.
"Ah, don't flatter me too much. I can't take it."
"This file came from Sakazuki."
"Yeah, I think this is Marine HQ's subtle way of nudging you."
"But the choice is yours."
Borsalino set down his tea, lounged back, and folded his hands behind his head.
"I see," Yoriichi replied, still smiling.
He carefully read through the files.
It didn't matter whether this was HQ's idea or not. His own decision wouldn't change.
After a while, he tossed the documents on the table.
Totland, huh…
Could he destroy it with the current strength of his division? Probably.
But the cost?
That wasn't the real issue though.
The real issue was, what happens afterward?
Totland had over 30 islands and millions of residents.
Without Big Mom, what would happen to them?
Leave it to the World Government?
This was the New World. Would they really bother?
And to them, non-affiliated nations' civilians… were no better than slaves.
"A deep hole," Yoriichi muttered, standing and walking to the window.
Borsalino smiled.
"If it were a good job, they wouldn't give it to you."
He could tell what this was, a trap.
He was pleased Yoriichi saw it too.
Despite Yoriichi's youth, his political instincts were sharp.
"Just tell HQ," Yoriichi said, turning to leave, "we'll begin preparations."
He picked up a wooden practice sword from the rack and left the office.
"Just preparations, huh? Hehehe…"
"Still a smooth one."
Borsalino chuckled, putting the files and log pose back on the desk.
May, Year 1501 of the Sea Circle Calendar.
Rouge went into labor.
After ten months, Roger's child was born.
Outside the delivery room, Yoriichi wore civilian clothes. When he heard the baby's cry, he vanished.
The baby was given his mother's surname.
His name, Portgas D. Ace.
One week later, Rouge found a package in her room.
Curious, she quietly opened it.
Inside was a sword.
The moment she saw it, she gasped, hands flying to her mouth. She glanced around. No one was there.
She reached out and stroked the blade, face full of sorrow.
"Ace…"
She called both her child's name, and the name of the sword.
Then she noticed something.
A corner of a letter was peeking out from beneath the sword.
She pulled it free.
"Rouge, if you're reading this, then I'm already dead…"
It was Roger's last letter, meant for his wife and unborn child.
He wrote of his love, his regrets, his hopes for their child.
Tens of thousands of words.
"My child will be a man among men, someone who will shake the world."
"But if possible, I hope he never walks my path."
"Rouge, I leave our child to you. If you survive… Yoriichi has repaid the favor I owed him."
"But that bastard once let me take the fall for something, so he still owes me! Hahaha!"
"Of course, I owe him too. I can't repay it, since I'm dead."
"So let our child repay it for me."
Rouge's tears soaked the letter.
Always so strong, she now collapsed to the floor, clutching the letter to her chest.
Tears streamed down her face.
Her lips parted, but not a single cry escaped.
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