Michael had never once considered letting Charlos carry out some kind of suicide bombing…
But he also hadn't expected this guy's faith in him to be so fanatical.
Back then, it had been purely for convenience — to plant a spy who could actually be of some use among the Celestial Dragons. But unexpectedly, while cultivating a spy, he'd somehow ended up creating a believer…
Although, for Charlos, this might not have been such a bad thing after all.
After witnessing the hellish scene of Celestial Dragons being executed by Rayleigh and the others, it was only natural he'd need something to cling to mentally.
And clearly, Michael was the perfect object of worship for him.
Over the years, Charlos had constantly brainwashed and hypnotized himself, ultimately shaping Michael into the angelic savior god in his mind.
However, Michael had merely made use of his one-sided transmission of information about the Celestial Dragons' internal affairs.
No matter how you looked at it, Michael had never imagined Charlos would develop this far.
But still…
Once dead, a man's light goes out. For Michael, Charlos was ultimately an enemy — nothing more than a tool that had been turned.
After a small sigh in his heart, Michael immediately threw himself into the construction of the youth program.
This time, he and Sengoku weren't just trying to create something similar to the elite training camp…
They were establishing an actual department within the Marines — one specifically meant to house and educate those youths, so that once they grew up, they would officially join the Marines and be deployed to every corner of the sea.
In other words, a "military academy."
Not only would Zephyr and the other instructors teach them to fight and walk the path of the strong…
More importantly — academic classes.
Michael had specially brought in more than a dozen scholars from Alabasta, each proficient in different subjects, to serve as cultural studies teachers for the youth program.
Fighting and killing were unavoidable, but the future demanded something more — governance over these ever-changing seas.
So academic knowledge would be their best way to truly understand the world.
"Michael, so this is where you are." Zephyr walked up from behind. Seeing the wine bottle in Michael's hand, he asked in surprise, "Hmm? Michael, you drink too? That bottle isn't exactly cheap."
"I don't have much interest in alcohol," Michael raised his hand and shook the bottle slightly. "I just came to offer a toast to the dead."
"A toast to the dead?" Zephyr froze. "You're paying respects to Saint Charlos? I remember it was you who saved him from Rayleigh's hands back then, right?"
"I'm offering a toast to the dead, yes, but not to Charlos — to the people killed by those Celestial Dragons…" Michael flicked his wrist, and the bottle flew into the sea. "I just wanted to tell them that another Celestial Dragon has gone to report below. A part of their blood debt has been repaid."
Michael's gaze was firm — so firm that even Zephyr was momentarily stunned.
He didn't have any fondness for the Celestial Dragons either, but Michael's attitude…
It wasn't ordinary.
For someone who was now part of the highest decision-making level of the Marines to display such open hatred toward the Celestial Dragons — that was rare.
"What is it?" Michael looked at Zephyr staring straight at him and instinctively touched his own face. "Do I have something on my face?"
"Sigh… no, nothing."
In the end, Zephyr could only turn all his doubts into a single sigh.
He'd been retired from the front line for so long already — the Marines were no longer his era!
Now it was the age of the Three Admirals and Michael!
The age of the Secret Special Force!
The age of the youth program they were currently building!
His task was to make sure this youth program wouldn't be weaker than the current generation of the Secret Special Force.
That was no small challenge. After all, not every talent was suited for head-on combat.
"By the way, Zephyr-sensei, what did you come to me for?" Michael asked with a small grin. "The topic completely ran off after we started talking about wine."
"Oh right, look at me… getting old really does make the mind a little dull." Zephyr patted his own head, then his expression turned serious.
"It's about the youth program. The gifted youths we've summoned from all over the world have already begun arriving at Marine Headquarters."
"Oh? That fast?" Michael was surprised. "The academy's dedicated campus and dormitories aren't even fully completed yet. How'd they get here so soon?"
"Probably… the kind of restlessness and excitement unique to the young?" Zephyr said helplessly. "I clearly told the liaison officers to inform them there was no rush — they just needed to arrive sometime within this month."
"Hahaha, well, you can't really blame them then," Michael laughed. "After all, they've completely met your condition of 'arriving within the month.'"
"Yeah, I'm just surprised at their efficiency." Zephyr sighed, clearly helpless. "But now that they're here, we can't just let them wander around Marineford, can we…"
"Of course not!" Michael nodded in agreement. "These so-called gifted kids are basically just a bunch of over-energized brats. If we let them run wild, who knows what trouble they'd stir up… How about this! Let's gather them all, and we'll go meet them. What do you say?"
"At this point… that's the only option."
...
Michael and Zephyr's orders quickly spread to all units of Marine Headquarters.
Everyone sent any youth program members they could find to the square in front of HQ.
Before long, the huge square was packed to the brim with youths.
They ranged from children of five or six to teenagers of seventeen or eighteen.
But what most of them had in common were excited hearts and restless hands.
Of course… not all of them were like that.
Among this group was a particular bunch who seemed already used to being at Marine Headquarters.
Unsurprisingly, this bunch was led by the three little bastards from Garp's family and the five little bastards from Michael's family — the children of active Marines.
And so… Michael decided to make an example of them.
"Hey! Ace! Ichiji! Reiju! What are you little brats whispering about over there!? Are you ignoring me!? If you've got something to say, say it loud!"
"Uh, nothing, we didn't say anything." Reiju shot the others a glare, then forced an awkward smile.
"When I tell you to talk, you talk!"
"Michael-san! Your front gate's open!" In the end, the one who raised his hand and reported loudly was the knucklehead Luffy.
Michael nodded.
"You see? That's called honesty and discipline! Everyone except Luffy — run five laps around Marineford!"
"...Luffy, you run ten."
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