Chapter 4: The Envoy from Headquarters
At this moment, in this quiet corner of the East Blue, no one truly understood the depth of the cards he held close to his chest. The full extent of his power was a consideration for another day, for after he had settled into the shark tank of Marine Headquarters.
The awakening of his Human-Human Fruit had granted him terrifying control over the senses, but these abilities were not without their constraints.
First, there was the matter of range. To employ a skill like "Annihilation of the Senses," his target had to be within a certain radius. This was a fundamental limitation of most externally-projecting abilities, he reasoned. Fleet Admiral Akainu couldn't turn the entire world into magma with a single thought, and Aokiji couldn't flash-freeze the whole Grand Line with a snap of his fingers. His own range was steadily expanding as he grew stronger and delved deeper into his fruit's nature. Currently, enveloping the entire branch base was his effective limit.
Second, and more crucially, was the issue of Haki. A will strong enough could resist, even outright nullify, his intrusion. With his current prowess, he couldn't instantly strip a powerful, Haki-hardened opponent of their perception. The process was more insidious—a gradual fading, a slow dissolution of the world, not an immediate blackout. Even if he compressed that process to a handful of seconds, it was still enough time for a true master to react and retaliate.
Therefore, the element of surprise was paramount. Whether his opponent knew of the existence of his "sense-destroying" ability was the difference between a flawless victory and a potentially fatal miscalculation.
In Ian's view, revealing his trump card required the perfect moment. When his own strength and status reached an unassailable peak, there would be no more need for shadows and secrets. But in these early stages, as he prepared to step onto the world's stage, keeping a few aces up his sleeve was not just prudent—it was essential.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Captain Ian? It's Nami."
Her voice was a familiar anchor. "Come in."
The door opened and Nami stepped inside, her expression uncharacteristically serious. She marched straight to his desk. "The warship from Headquarters," she announced without preamble. "It's here to escort you for your commissioning and appointment. It's already in the harbor."
Ian's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "So soon? Did they fly here on seagulls?"
The journey from Marine Headquarters to the East Blue was long. Even taking the Navy's designated calm-belt routes in ideal weather, it took a significant amount of time. He'd received the promotion letter just yesterday, and the escort was already here today?
It was too fast. Suspiciously fast.
Making headlines was one thing; this kind of expedited, personal retrieval service for a newly-minted Commodore felt… disproportionate.
"Captain Ian," Nami prompted, "should you change into your formal jacket? We should go to the harbor to receive them."
Ian remained seated, holding up a hand for silence. He closed his eyes, his focus turning inward, his enhanced hearing stretching out to blanket the entire base.
The sound of numerous, hurried footsteps echoed from the direction of the main square. The base was unusually active for this hour. And then, beneath the trample of boots, he caught the faint, strained threads of conversation.
"...Colonel Tina, with all due respect, you're a distinguished officer from Headquarters. Shouldn't the base commander of this backwater branch come to you at the harbor? Why are we marching to his office?"
A sharp, feminine voice cut through the complaint. "Quiet, Morek! Tina does as she pleases."
A third voice, sycophantic and eager, chimed in. "Yes, Colonel Tina is always right! But sir, what about the other missions we had here in the East Blue?"
"The other missions are cancelled," the sharp voice—Tina—declared flatly. "The only objective that remains is to retrieve Colonel Jock Ian and return to Headquarters. Tina despises repetition."
"Understood! Perfectly understood!"
Then, the flustered voice of his own base sergeant broke in. "C-Colonel Tina! My apologies, I wasn't informed of your arrival! Please, let me notify Colonel Ian immediately. The main administration hall is just ahead. If you would kindly wait there, I'm sure Captain Ian will be with you shortly!"
Ian's eyes snapped open.
Captain Tina. Codename: Black Cage. User of the Barrier-Barrier Fruit.
There were few capable female officers at Headquarters who left a lasting impression, and even fewer who were both young and powerful. Tina was one who had stood out in his memories. Her ability to create indestructible black barriers made her a formidable force on any battlefield.
The conversation he'd overheard clarified the timing. She had already been on a mission in the East Blue and was simply re-tasked. It made a certain logistical sense; many Marines never found their way to Marinford without an escort.
But still. To abandon her original objectives just to fetch him? It felt... pointed.
"Let's go, Nami," Ian said, standing up. "There's no time to meet them at the harbor. Our guests from Headquarters have already let themselves in. We'll receive them in the main hall."
He led Nami to the base's central administrative hall—a functional, sparsely decorated space that served as the most presentable room the humble East Blue branch could offer.
Inside, the envoy was already waiting.
Tina stood with an air of impatient grace. Long, light-pink hair was parted neatly in the middle, and a pair of sunglasses with purple lenses were pushed up on her forehead. Her rose-red tailored suit hugged her figure, a stark contrast to the utilitarian Marine uniforms surrounding her.
"Welcome, esteemed guests from Headquarters," Ian announced as he entered, his voice smooth and cordial. "My apologies for the lack of fanfare. Had I known you'd arrive with such... urgency, I would have prepared a proper welcome."
Tina's eyes, sharp and assessing, locked onto him. She offered a polite, practiced smile and extended a hand. "Captain Ian. Or should I address you as the 'Adjudicator of the Sea'? Tina has read the papers. Your accomplishments in the East Blue have certainly made waves. I am under orders to escort you back to Headquarters to assume your new post." Her words were flawless, her demeanor impeccably professional.
"Ah, that," Ian waved a dismissive hand, his smile never faltering. "Just empty titles and sensational headlines. Please, don't pay them any mind, Colonel Tina. I never concern myself with the opinions of the masses, nor do I chase after fleeting fame. Isn't upholding justice simply our duty?"
He gestured for her to sit. "Please, let's not stand on ceremony. Make yourself comfortable."
As he spoke, he subtly raised a finger toward Nami, who stood behind him.
Nami, understanding the cue perfectly, cleared her throat and called out toward the door, her voice ringing with formal authority, "Captain Ian... requests his seat!"
Tina, who had begun to lower herself back into her chair, froze mid-descent, left hovering awkwardly over the armrest. A flicker of confusion crossed her features. A seat? Why is she announcing it?
Before she could process it, her confusion turned to sheer bewilderment.
Two burly Marines marched into the hall, carrying a heavy, ornate chair between them. It was carved from a single, dark piece of solid wood, polished to a high sheen. Draped over its high back was the complete pelt of a massive tiger, its fur vibrant and its glassy eyes staring blankly ahead.
With an air of casual ownership, Ian settled into the imposing throne. He rested his chin on his hand, his gaze level with Tina's. The unspoken message in his eyes was clear: You may be from Headquarters, but here, my authority is absolute.
End of Chapter