After settling the matter of selecting a fish-man to join the Shichibukai, Admiral Sengoku moved on to a new topic.
"There's one last thing I want to discuss with you," he said.
"What is it? Go ahead," Ortoren replied, taking a sip of tea.
"It concerns your codename after your promotion to Admiral. Look—Sakazuki's codename is Akainu, Kuzan's is Aokiji, and even Borsalino, that so-called Admiral candidate, has the codename Kizaru. Since you'll be an Admiral as well, have you considered adopting a name in line with theirs?" Sengoku asked.
Before Ortoren could answer, Sengoku pulled out a sheet of paper. "This is the codename we've prepared for you. Have a look. If you think it's suitable, this will be your Marine codename from now on."
Ortoren frowned, took the paper, scanned it, and immediately made a face. "Who the hell came up with this? Silver Bull? That sounds dumb as hell—and worse, it even sounds a bit indecent!"
"Indecent how?" Sengoku snapped back. "If you don't like it, you can always go with White Bull or Blue Bull."
"I refuse!" Ortoren rejected it outright. "If we're talking codenames, it's not like I don't have one already. Who doesn't know I'm the 'Bull of Heaven'? That sounds leagues better than White Bull or Blue Bull."
"But that doesn't match Sakazuki and the others'—" Sengoku tried to persuade him.
Before he could finish, Ortoren cut in, "Since when did the Marines have a tradition like that? That Admirals need matching codenames? This nonsense only started in the last few years—who knows which troublemaker came up with it. Before that, nothing like this existed!"
Not giving Sengoku a chance to reply, Ortoren continued, "Take you, for example. Were you ever called Yellow Buddha? Or Golden Buddha? Out at sea, people call you Sengoku the Buddha or the Resourceful General. Same with Zephyr-sensei—we respectfully call him 'Sensei.' Nobody calls him Black Tiger Zephyr or anything like that. Even when it comes to codenames, he's Black Arm. And Garp-san? At most, he's Garp the Fist. So why is it that we suddenly have to be stuck with animal-plus-color names?"
"Ah… well…" Sengoku found himself momentarily speechless.
Yes—when had the new generation of Marine codenames become like this?
"Anyway, I'm not letting anyone call me Silver Bull or Blue Bull or whatever. So let's drop it. Admiral Benn or Admiral Ortoren sounds perfectly fine. If that's not good enough, call me the Bull of Heaven. As for Sakazuki and Kuzan? Whatever. That's their business." Ortoren stood firm.
Seeing his strong reaction—clearly not mere stubbornness—Sengoku judged it wasn't worth creating conflict over something so trivial. He nodded. "Fine. We'll do as you say. No more codename business."
Only then did Ortoren break into a grin. "Exactly. We Marines shouldn't be shackled by pointless conventions. I'm about to be an Admiral, and I still have to let others saddle me with some ridiculous codename? Where would my dignity be?"
Once these miscellaneous matters were settled, Sengoku returned to his growing pile of duties. With his promotion to Fleet Admiral imminent, he was busier than ever. Ortoren took the chance to excuse himself and leave the office.
Downstairs, Ortoren spotted Strawberry approaching from the hallway. It had been a long time since he'd seen this old classmate. Laughing, Ortoren raised a hand. "Beri~"
Strawberry looked over with a scowl. "Call me Strawberry. Don't shout random nonsense at me, you idiot."
"I was just making you sound wealthy," Ortoren joked. "Weren't you stationed in the Sabaody Archipelago? What brings you back to Headquarters?"
"Oh, so only you get to climb the ranks and get a pay raise?" Strawberry chuckled before continuing, "It's not confirmed yet, but I'll probably be promoted to Vice Admiral…"
"Well, congratulations," Ortoren said with a smile.
"Still can't compete with you, though. In the blink of an eye, you're about to become an Admiral. Tsk tsk, impressive." Strawberry teased him before lowering his voice slightly. "And it's not just me. The Mary Geoise incident, from a certain angle, has been a huge boon for the Marines. Yamakaji and Doberman received summons too. They didn't say it outright, but the implication was clear—return for evaluation and promotion to Vice Admiral."
Hearing this, Ortoren gave Strawberry's shoulder a pat. "You guys all owe me a favor. Without me, how would you be getting promoted so quickly?"
Strawberry assumed he meant the defeat of Shiki, so he didn't read too deeply into it and nodded. "You're not wrong. Anyway, I'll stop chatting. Once you're an Admiral, remember to look after us old buddies. I have to go report in."
"Hahaha, don't worry! If you're interested later, I'll transfer all of you to the New World. We'll rise together!" Ortoren laughed heartily.
And he wasn't joking. With his impending promotion to Admiral—and with him set to govern the entire New World—the difference in standing between him and a Vice Admiral was incomparable.
Beyond his old G-5 core, now that he was an Admiral, Ortoren naturally needed to gather new subordinates as well.
Before, as a Vice Admiral, he only had so many personnel slots. But as an Admiral, that limit disappeared entirely. Old classmates like Yamakaji, Strawberry, Stainless, and Keisha could all be brought under his command.
As for Onigumo and Doberman, those were off-limits. Just like Momonga and Issho, they were part of Sakazuki's trusted inner circle. And now that Sakazuki was an Admiral too, of course his people would benefit accordingly.
Thinking along these lines, Ortoren stepped out of the gates of the Fortress of Justice. Before he could even take a proper look around, a dark figure suddenly appeared in front of him, grabbed his hand, and exclaimed, "Vice Admiral Benn, congratulations! The moment I arrived at Marine Headquarters, I heard you've practically secured the next Admiral seat!"
He couldn't see the person clearly yet, but only one man he knew could pull off such a sudden appearance—his good friend Spandine.
He focused—and sure enough, it was him.
"Spandine? What brings you here?" Ortoren asked, genuinely surprised.
"As your good friend, of course I had to be the first to congratulate you!" Spandine flattered him, then glanced around. Seeing no one watching, he lowered his voice immediately. "I'm here to beg for your help, Benn-sama. I need you to save my life!"
"Save your life? Who would dare lay a hand on you?" Ortoren frowned, but still pulled Spandine toward a more secluded corner.
Once they were alone, Spandine's face twisted with misery as he quickly explained, "The Revolutionary Army, Benn-sama! I'm counting on you now. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place!"
"Tell me everything," Ortoren said.
"It was like this… that night, I happened to be in Holy Land…" Spandine launched into his pitiful story.
Only after a long explanation did Ortoren finally piece together the situation.
The Revolutionary Army had caught Spandine red-handed. And although he was still officially part of the CP Organization, Dragon had forcibly slapped him with a new identity—"Revolutionary Army Special Envoy to the World Government Headquarters."
"They took photos of me helping them unlock classified archive files, Benn-sama! And I heard—you're quite close with their leader… So please, I'm begging you, talk to them! Have them burn the photos. I promise I won't oppose them again!" Spandine was practically in tears.
Ortoren scratched his head, clicking his tongue. "Tsk. That's a tough one. Honestly, even though I personally think of Dragon as a brother, in reality, he'd love nothing more than to eat my flesh and drink my blood… If I don't intervene, you might still have room to negotiate. But if I do? He'll absolutely tear you apart."
"What!?" Spandine froze. What happened to the "good relationship"?
After a brief pause, Ortoren continued, "But this isn't exactly life or death, right? Worst case, just feed them a bit of intel."
"Benn-sama, you don't understand! This Holy Land incident shattered our CP Organization. Even the Chief Director is getting dismissed. Whoever replaces him is definitely going to launch a major crackdown on the Revolutionary Army—they'll need results. And internally, anyone who can't keep up will be the one purged. If I'm branded as one of the Revolutionary Army, how am I supposed to produce results? If I can't deliver, by next year at the latest, I'll be wiped out!" Spandine trembled as he spoke.
Hearing this, Ortoren's eyes lit up, and a grin curved his lips. "Hahahaha, that I can help with. Don't worry. Once I head to Holy Land in a few days and meet with those five, there'll be arrangements involving the Revolutionary Army anyway. I'll toss you a share of the credit and give you a major achievement. When you've got results and your colleagues don't, who else would get promoted but you?"
Spandine was a good comrade—and Ortoren was more than willing to give him a hand.