Marine Headquarters, Marineford — the fortress of justice. Kuzan was walking through the first-floor hall.
At the corner by the elevator, he waited for it to arrive. Before long, the doors slid open, and Borsalino stepped out, a thick stack of documents in hand, following close behind Admiral Sengoku as the two seemed deep in discussion.
"Sengoku-san, so my mission this time is to investigate this MADS scientific research group? But shouldn't things like this be handled by the Criminal Investigation Bureau? Am I getting transferred there soon, and you're just letting me get familiar with the work ahead of time?" Borsalino asked.
"No, it has nothing to do with the Criminal Investigation Bureau," Sengoku replied. "Think of it this way — the Fleet Admiral believes our Marines should establish an armed force dedicated to scientific research, something that can help us face the unpredictable challenges ahead, speed up our equipment upgrades, and maintain — even expand — our logistical advantage. For now, we're calling it the 'Navy Science Force.' It's a department that will very likely be formed. If you do well, I can arrange for you to serve there. The MADS research group has several extremely talented scientists. Your task is to investigate them, get to know them, and see if we can recruit them to work for us."
"But it says here… 'illegal research group'?" Borsalino looked puzzled.
"They're not approved or registered by the World Government, all their funding comes from unknown sources in the underworld, and they're involved in dangerous chemical and biological weapons research. So labeling them 'illegal' is perfectly reasonable, isn't it?" Sengoku said casually.
Borsalino rubbed his chin and nodded. "I get it. So by 'recruitment,' you might also mean a chance for them to atone for their crimes? I see. You higher-ups really like to wrap things up in roundabout language."
As it turned out, Borsalino's investigation uncovered something far more serious — these dangerous scientists were actually researching lineage factors. The World Government moved quickly to launch a full-scale crackdown on MADS.
As he was saying this, Borsalino stepped out of the elevator and immediately spotted Kuzan. His eyes widened in surprise. "Kuzan? What happened to your eye? Did someone hit you?"
Sure enough, Kuzan's left eye socket was ringed with a dark, obvious bruise — a perfect black eye, the kind you only get from taking a solid punch.
Borsalino's question made Kuzan think back to the previous day. Ortoren had gone on a rampage in the training yard, beating every single one of his classmates into the ground. Zephyr-sensei had sent Kuzan in to put an end to the chaos.
And he did. As another Logia user who had been in the Marines years longer than Ortoren and trained under the top brass for just as long, Kuzan was undeniably stronger at that point in time. He quickly brought the situation under control.
But not without paying a price. In the final moments, he'd let his guard down, and Ortoren had landed a brutal punch right to his eye — resulting in his current appearance.
Honestly, if Kuzan's body hadn't been so resilient, that punch could have dropped him flat, and that would've been a real embarrassment.
His physique made one thing clear — it wasn't the Hie Hie no Mi that made Kuzan a powerhouse. Kuzan himself was already a monster, and the Hie Hie no Mi only made him even more formidable.
"Ahem, you know I like to sleep with an eye mask on. Last night I got up to use the bathroom, was still half-asleep, forgot to take it off, and walked right into the doorframe. That's all, nothing serious." Kuzan kept his head down as he spoke, trying to brush it off and slip past Borsalino into the elevator.
Borsalino watched him step in and the doors close, still looking puzzled. Only then did he turn to Admiral Sengoku and ask, "If I remember right, when I was on a mission with Kuzan, even if he really needed to… relieve himself at night, he'd just freeze it into ice and toss it into the toilet in the morning. I asked him why he was so twisted, and he said he was too lazy to get up. Don't tell me he's planning to fall in love and is trying to fix his bad habits?"
Sengoku was stunned. It felt like he'd just stumbled onto some unexpected gossip. Was Kuzan really that sloppy?
"Then what do you do if you get up at night?" Sengoku asked without thinking.
The moment the words left his mouth, he realized he'd overstepped. That was far too personal a question.
But Borsalino, unfazed, replied matter-of-factly, "I usually just open the window and fly out into the moonlight…"
And you've got the nerve to talk about other people's bad habits?
Sengoku silently nodded to himself, thinking that once his current work was done, he'd have to start paying attention to the cultural conduct of Marine officers… Otherwise, if all the top brass ended up as eccentrics with bizarre habits, the atmosphere in Marineford would be a disaster.
Come to think of it, there had been nights when he came home from duty, no rain in sight, yet the air felt oddly damp… No way, right?
And for some reason, he couldn't stop himself from wondering—how did Sakazuki handle this kind of thing? The image of Sakazuki roaring "Dai Funka" popped into his head.
For the sake of his own sanity, Sengoku quickly shoved those thoughts aside and said, "Kuzan got that from Ortoren yesterday, that's why his eye looks like that. Enough useless talk—let's go."
...
Over at Garp's house, Ortoren was in the bedroom, standing in front of the mirror.
Outside the door, Garp sounded impatient. He shoved the door open and barked, "What's taking you so long? Weren't we going to the hospital to visit your classmates?"
The moment he stepped in, Garp froze. "What the hell are you doing?"
He was staring at Ortoren, who was picking through a pile of what looked like newly bought glasses, trying them on one by one.
Ortoren wasn't wearing his usual black tank top today. Instead, he had on a white shirt and suit pants, topped off with a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. The look was… downright bizarre.
Especially on his three-meter-tall frame, with muscles straining to tear through the shirt. Even the polished leather shoes on his feet looked aggressive.
"Garp-san, perfect timing. Do you think these glasses suit me?" Ortoren asked, pushing the frames up the bridge of his nose.
Garp's face twitched before he cursed, "You look like some dock thug trying to dress up as a fake gentleman. Walk around like that and you'll wreck the Marines' image. What's going through your head, buying this kind of nonsense?"
"Ahem…" Ortoren gave a small, embarrassed cough. "Well… I'm worried that yesterday's incident might have made things too tense between me, my classmates, and my colleagues, so I wanted to show a more refined side today. And don't always look at people with such prejudice—Zephyr-sensei says I've got an edge in cultural studies. He even said I might become a wise and courageous general like Sengoku-san someday."
So as a potential refined and resourceful general, wearing gold-rimmed glasses makes sense, right?
That's what he told himself, but after another glance in the mirror, Ortoren grimaced and pulled them off. Ugly as hell.
He eyed the rest of the glasses scattered across the table and asked, "Can I return these?"
"What do you think? Of course not," Garp scoffed.
"What if I told them Vice Admiral Garp had my back? That shopkeeper wouldn't dare cross me," Ortoren said with complete seriousness.
Garp froze for a second, then snapped, "Don't go using my name to pull this kind of crap! You'll ruin my image!"
After a pause, Ortoren replied mercilessly, "Garp-san, with all due respect, anyone who's known you for more than a week probably doesn't think you've got much of an image to ruin."
"You brat! Don't think I won't hit you just because you're wearing glasses!" Garp barked.
After a couple more grumbles, he seemed to hesitate, knowing full well his own reputation. Leaning in, he asked, "Then give me some advice. How can I make myself look better to people? You know—more respectable… better."
Ortoren rubbed his chin. "Alright, I'll teach you a line. Learn it, and people will admire and respect you more."
"What is it?" Garp asked, suddenly interested.
"Next time someone calls you a Marine hero and praises you for being amazing, pat them on the shoulder, give them a thumbs up, and say with a big smile, 'I'm no hero. You, my friend, are the real hero.'" Ortoren said earnestly.
Garp paused, imagining the scene… and, surprisingly, it felt like a whole new world had opened up to him.
"I got it!" he said with a look of genuine enlightenment.
...
(50 Chapters Ahead)
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