Inside the Fleet Admiral's office.
"Ah~choo…"
Borsalino better known as Admiral Kizaru let out an exaggerated yawn, his eyelids half-closed as he slumped deeper into the couch.
Before him stood a mountain of unfinished paperwork, stacked precariously like a paper monument to despair. Beside it sat a pitifully small pile of completed files a cruel contrast that only made him sigh harder.
"This is gonna be the death of me~," he drawled lazily, his voice dragging out like taffy.
When Sengoku had left headquarters for an inspection, Borsalino thought taking over as acting Fleet Admiral would be a dream assignment finally, he could enjoy the Navy's highest authority: sipping tea, reading the newspaper, basking in the perks of command.
But reality?
Power? He hadn't even caught a glimpse of it.
Paperwork, on the other hand, was flooding in like a tsunami.
Every day brought more documents, more requests, more incident reports. The work was endless completely endless!
And this was just a temporary position.
If he ever actually became Fleet Admiral…
Kizaru shuddered at the thought, quickly shaking his head to banish the terrifying image.
"No, no, no…" he muttered under his breath. "Whoever wants that seat can have it."
When the time came to nominate a new Fleet Admiral, he'd be the first to abstain. Let Sakazuki and Kuzan tear each other apart for the title.
Or better yet, let Renn Hawk take it.
As for him? He was perfectly content to remain a Headquarters Admiral clocking in, clocking out, sipping tea, trimming his nails, occasionally flashing some light around when duty called.
Now that was the life of a true god.
Just then, the office door creaked open.
Sengoku walked in with Vice Admiral Tsuru beside him, the two mid-conversation, their expressions uncharacteristically bright.
"Tsuru," Sengoku said, his tone brimming with excitement, "Hawk's new 'Seafloor Salvage' plan is nothing short of genius!"
Tsuru smiled knowingly. "Indeed. First he convinced Alabasta to become a formal naval ally giving us the perfect platform to manage the Golden City's wealth and now this 'Seafloor Salvage' plan… Hawk always finds possibilities we never even consider. If this succeeds, it'll fundamentally solve the Navy's funding problem."
That last line made Kizaru's ears perk up.
"Wait, what was that?" he muttered. "The Navy… won't be short on funds anymore?"
His sleepy eyes suddenly glimmered with life. For as long as he could remember, the Navy had been a bottomless pit that devoured money faster than a pirate drank rum.
And now, they might actually be financially stable?
Sengoku turned, noticing Kizaru for the first time. He strode over, placing a heavy hand on the admiral's shoulder.
"Borsalino," he said gravely, "the Navy's future… will depend on you."
Kizaru froze. His entire body stiffened, the blood draining from his face.
Wait, what?
Why him? Wasn't Hawk supposed to be the golden child of justice? Why was he suddenly the Navy's future?
He was just a man who wanted to clock out on time!
Before he could protest, Sengoku continued, "You're going to convince Dr. Vegapunk."
Kizaru blinked. "Eh?"
"The first and most critical phase of Hawk's Seafloor Salvage plan," Sengoku explained, "requires Vegapunk to design a series of deep-sea super salvage vessels. This project determines whether the Navy can truly achieve independence from the World Government's economic control. You've known him for years. If anyone can persuade him, it's you. The Navy will invest fifty billion Berries upfront to fund it. You must succeed."
Kizaru exhaled a long breath, relief washing over him.
"Geez, old man, don't pause halfway through a sentence like that you nearly gave me a heart attack," he muttered under his breath.
So that was it. Just convincing Vegapunk.
He could handle that.
After all, Vegapunk was an old friend eccentric, yes, but a true scientist at heart. His lifelong dream was to use science to better humanity.
The World Government, on the other hand, only wanted to weaponize his genius for control and war.
If Kizaru simply explained the Navy's new vision justice without corruption, progress without tyranny Vegapunk wouldn't say no.
Maybe he'd ask for a ridiculous amount of funding, but…
He glanced at Sengoku again. The Navy didn't seem short on cash anymore.
His grin widened. "Hehe… looks like this might actually be worth my time."
If the Navy's broke days were ending, then his paycheck might finally reflect his workload. Maybe even some extra bonus for "field diplomacy."
Kizaru cleared his throat dramatically.
"Ah, you see, Sengoku-san," he said, putting a hand over his chest with exaggerated sincerity, "Vegapunk and I… are the closest of friends! My dearest brother, even my lifelong comrade!"
Sengoku twitched, recognizing that familiar I'm-gonna-ask-for-more-money look in Kizaru's eyes.
This guy…
But then again, the Navy was about to be rich.
With a resigned sigh, Sengoku reached into his coat and pulled out a gleaming golden check stamped with the Fleet Admiral's highest authority seal. He waved it gently before Kizaru's widening eyes.
"This is thirty billion Berries," he said evenly. "You can collect it directly from the Treasury."
Kizaru sat up straight.
"Ten billion is your bonus for assisting various naval branches during the last operations. Another ten billion for your service as acting Fleet Admiral. The final ten billion is your advance payment for this mission. If you successfully secure Vegapunk's cooperation, you'll receive an additional twenty billion bonus."
Sengoku paused, letting the number sink in before dropping the real bombshell.
"Furthermore, you'll have full authority over the first phase of the Seafloor Salvage plan. You'll receive five percent of the value of the first batch of recovered treasure as commission. The faster you complete the vessels, the sooner the salvage begins and the more wealth you bring in, the larger your payout."
Kizaru sucked in a sharp breath.
Fifty billion… and five percent commission.
That wasn't just money that was the sound of a golden future calling his name.
He could already picture it: sipping tea on a mountain of Berries, trimming his nails under the sunlight, living the life of a true enlightened admiral.
In that instant, he could almost feel his laziness evaporating purified by the divine light of pure profit.
He stood abruptly, straightened his uniform, and saluted with a crispness no one had ever seen from him before.
"Fleet Admiral Sengoku, sir!" he declared, voice firm and clear. "You can count on me!"
"No one," Kizaru said, his sunglasses glinting, "understands persuasion better than Borsalino!"
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