A short parting makes reunion sweeter than a wedding night.
After three months apart, when Hina and Jin met again, the flame of longing burned hotter than before. Her worry, her yearning—all of it burst forth like a storm, washing into him in a flood of tenderness.
"I've already contacted Headquarters," Jin said, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. "The Marine training outpost on Aska Island will be expanded into a full Marine base. And the commander of that base—will be you. Naturally, your rank will rise from commander to Captain."
Hina blinked in shock. "Even if you are a king, you can't possibly interfere in Headquarters' appointments, can you?"
Jin smiled knowingly. "Normally, no. But what if the base is… funded by me?"
He leaned closer, his voice low. "Besides, don't you have a few connections yourself? Vice Admiral Tsuru, for example?"
Her lips parted slightly, but no words came. Jin continued, calm and persuasive:
"Your past record already qualifies you for promotion. The only reason you haven't risen is because of seniority—and strength. After this training, you've caught up in strength. And with a base commander's position, this year, you'll rise to Captain."
Hina's heart stirred. She thought of Smoker—her peer, her rival. He had been sent to Loguetown in East Blue as a branch commander, and last year had already risen in rank. She had no intention of being left behind.
Still…
She furrowed her brows, suspicion in her eyes. "You're planning something with Aska Island, aren't you? What are your real intentions there?"
Jin's gaze was steady. "Aska is a spring island, rare and precious. The seasons are always mild, the land ideal for agriculture, and the climate perfect for a resort. More importantly, it sits on one of the seven main routes, which is why your Marines had a training post there in the first place. You couldn't reach terms with the Aska tribe, so it never became a base. But with me mediating, it can. And with a base comes mutual benefit."
He smirked faintly. "Sengoku recommended several rear admirals for the post. But I don't know them. You, I already trust."
Hina wasn't a fool. She understood instantly. Jin wanted to develop Aska Island. He had struck terms with the tribe. But to hold the pirates in check, he needed the Marines there. And among the Marines—she was the one he trusted most.
"…When did we become so close?" she murmured.
"You tell me," he teased.
Her face flushed crimson. She lowered her gaze, hiding behind her dark fringe. She looked like a blossom in full bloom, so radiant and tempting that it begged to be plucked.
The expansion of Aska's outpost into a base required little more than upgrading the existing facilities. Headquarters would have no grounds to oppose.
Hina would first return to Marineford—to report, accept her promotion, undergo commander training, and select her own loyal core of soldiers. Jin, meanwhile, needed to return to Drum Island and Hannabal. Three months away had left his political affairs piled up. No matter how many deputies he left behind, power in someone else's hands was no longer power.
They parted ways in Hannabal.
…
The moment Jin stepped off the ship, he found Wilson, the merchant boss, the giant brothers, and his patchwork crew of local officials waiting at the docks. At his side, his secretary Maya followed quietly, and behind them marched his men—those who had undergone three months of brutal training. They were no longer rabble, but a proper formation.
From a distance, crowds gathered to gawk. Some were townsfolk. Others were pirates who had drifted here over the past months.
"That's the king of Drum Kingdom—the new ruler of Hannabal? He's so young!"
"Don't be fooled by that face. He once wagered a hundred million on himself in the Death Tournament."
"You mean the one with Gasparde—the pirate worth ninety-five million berries?"
"Yeah. That race ended with Gasparde and Fishman Willy vanished, the giants surrendered, and only he crossed the finish line."
Among the onlookers, Shuraiya Bascúd's eyes burned. So this is him. I'll ask him to his face.
Wilson's group clustered protectively around Jin, escorting him toward the city hall of the special district. They had just reached a crossroads when—
Shhk!
The faint scrape of steel.
Maya's head snapped up.
Ding!
Jin halted mid-step, his hand already clamped around the blade of a dagger.
"Ambush!"
Wilson was first to react.
From a side alley, pirates charged out, led by a scarred brute with a face like a wolfhound.
"Kill him! Take Hannabal for ourselves!"
"Over my dead body!" Wilson roared, meeting the scarred man head-on.
The guards clashed with the pirates.
But then, from the crowd itself, another band of marauders surged forward, blades flashing.
Jin's eyes flickered.
"How lively. Looks like more than one pirate here wants my throne."
He chuckled softly. It was no surprise. Three months had made Hannabal's "Island of Freedom" famous. Of course, ambitious cutthroats would swarm, eager to seize its wealth—or to mimic Jin and crown themselves kings.
He stood calmly at the heart of the chaos, watching. Which of them will expose themselves?
It was time.
Time to feed the Demon Carrier.
"Oi, oi! For a king, you're really pathetic, letting this happen."
Maya's eyes darted upward.
A young man landed lightly from a rooftop, his kick sending a pirate flying. Adjusting the brim of his round hat, he looked squarely at Jin.
"Were you the one who killed Gasparde?"
Jin regarded him coolly. "What, here to avenge him?"
The youth scoffed, lips curling. "Avenge him? Don't be ridiculous. Gasparde was my prey. You killed him before I could. You meddled where you had no right."
He flicked his hand. "Run while you can. I'll hold these bastards off. When it's over, I'll settle accounts with you."
And he dove into the fray.
Jin blinked. "…"
"So let me get this straight—I kill his enemy for him, and he still wants to fight me? Maya, tell me, is he an idiot?"
"Eh?" Maya tilted her head, confused. Her world was still too new, too raw.
"High-school syndrome," Jin muttered darkly.
Amid the clash of steel and the cries of the dying, he watched. He needed to be sure—were any of his own men part of this rebellion?
Satisfied they were not, he exhaled.
"Enough."
He stepped forward.
Boom!
A single step, and the earth cracked, fissures spiderwebbing out. Buildings quaked.
Shuraiya's head whipped around, eyes wide. That king…
No words. No warning. Only the suffocating pressure of his aura. It felt as if the end of the world had descended in silence.
Conqueror's Haki?
No. Not yet. Three months of training under Garp had brought Jin close. He had withstood Garp's Conqueror's Haki time and again. But he had not yet crossed that final threshold.
This was no Haki.
This was presence.
The overwhelming field of a true strong man.
Pirates froze where they stood, throats dry.
Jin passed by the scarred leader. The man forced down his terror, gritted his teeth, and swung his blade.
Thk!
The knife sank into his own chest.
His eyes bulged with disbelief. He fell to his knees, clutching the hilt.
Jin walked on.
Behind him, one by one, pirates collapsed, lifeless. None even saw him move.
The path was strewn with blood and corpses.
Maya's hands clenched. She could hear them—the voices of the dead, of the suffering, of hatred itself. Her eyes trembled with pity.
Jin's voice was firm, merciless.
"Their sins cannot be cleansed by blood. Your pity for them is cruelty toward their victims."
He turned to her, gaze sharp.
"If it were us who were weak—do you think they would spare you? Or strip you bare and defile you?"
"I don't mind if you're kind, Maya. But don't be a saint."