Chapter 15: Contrasts and Challenges
The promotion ceremony, a grand affair solely for him, was a far cry from the mass graduations of his past. Once the formalities concluded, Garp took it upon himself to personally introduce Ian to the thirty-six Captains and Commodores in attendance. It was a clear signal—a master formally presenting his new apprentice to the establishment, ensuring the powerful cadres knew his face.
After presiding over the ceremony, Fleet Admiral Sengoku departed the parade ground in a hurry. According to Garp, he was heading to Mary Geoise to consult with the World Government's leadership on how to manage the fallout from the Don Quixote incident. It seemed Doflamingo, upon learning his officer had been crippled and captured, had wasted no time appealing to the Five Elders.
Ian didn't waste a moment's worry on how they would resolve it. He wasn't naive enough to believe a single act of defiance would see Doflamingo stripped of his Warlord status. For the World Government to do so would make a mockery of their entire recruitment strategy.
Admirals Akainu and Kizaru were absent, likely on missions outside Headquarters. Most of the other Vice Admirals, Rear Admirals, and Commodores present were figures he recognized from his meta-knowledge. As Garp made the introductions, Ian quickly matched names and faces, building a mental dossier of the Navy's upper echelon.
"Ian, this is... ahem... Captain Peacock of Marine Headquarters." Garp's tone became uncharacteristically hesitant when introducing a young woman. "She's your age, and a Devil Fruit user herself. She's very... capable. An outstanding rising star in the Navy!"
Peacock.
Her current rank was Captain, a "Whipmaster" who had consumed the Paramecia Whip-Whip Fruit. The real reason for Garp's stutter wasn't her strength, but the identity he was deliberately avoiding mentioning. As a transplant from another world, Ian knew it well.
Peacock was the granddaughter of Chief of Staff Tsuru—true Navy royalty, a third-generation officer.
She had long strawberry-blonde hair and sharp, intelligent emerald eyes. A hat with a seagull and floral pattern sat atop her head, a prominent 'M' printed on its side. She wore a standard Navy cape, but the most striking feature was the strapless, red-spotted dress she wore beneath it. It defied gravity not with a belt, but by being impeccably tailored to her impressive, and frankly daring, figure.
She was a study in contrasts with her calm, elegant grandmother, both in image and, as Ian would soon learn, in personality. In three years, she would become a member of the Navy's secret special forces, SWORD. But as a Captain now, she likely hadn't joined yet, which made sense—another key future member, the "Deserter King" Coby, hadn't even enlisted.
"Hello, Captain Peacock. I'm Jock Ian. I look forward to your guidance in the future." Playing along with Garp's omission, Ian offered a polite handshake, pretending ignorance of her lineage.
As he went to pull his hand back, however, he felt a sharp, sudden pressure. Peacock's red lips curled into a smirk. She was applying force, subtly but firmly, and a faint, crackling aura of Armament Haki coated her grip. The bones in their hands groaned audibly.
"Brigadier General Jock Ian, congratulations on your promotion and welcome to Headquarters," she said, her voice a saccharine purr. "So tall and strong. And such a fierce, handsome face. Adorable, really." Her grip tightened further. "I'd love to have a proper spar sometime. Don't get too proud just for beating a pirate worth a few tens of millions." She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping. "And just now... were you staring at my figure with those lustful eyes?"
Ian cursed inwardly. This woman is playing with fire!
In the East Blue, he was the one who dished out the teasing. To be so blatantly provoked and tested in front of the entire Headquarters' elite? This was more than teasing; it was a direct challenge.
He was about to retaliate, to show her exactly whose hand was truly made of steel, when Garp interrupted.
"Hey, Peacock! Let go of his hand," Garp grumbled. "This is my new favorite student. Rein in that... peculiar temperament of yours."
Hearing Garp's tone, Peacock released her grip with a light, mocking laugh. "Fine, fine. Since little Garp says so, I'll be on my best behavior." She turned her emerald eyes back to Ian. "There will be plenty of time later, Brigadier General Ian. Hehehe."
With a series of unnerving giggles, she turned and sauntered away, her hips swaying deliberately.
Garp rubbed his temples in a gesture of pure exhaustion. He didn't elaborate on Peacock, simply saying, "Come on, Ian. Let's meet the others. The Marine Headquarters is a big place. There are bound to be a few... eccentric characters. You'll get used to it."
Ian merely shrugged, filing the encounter with Peacock away in a mental folder marked 'Potentially Problematic, Definitely Interesting.'
…
Later, near the fifth training ground, Captain Tina and her adjutant, Lieutenant Morek, were hurrying to their temporary quarters. The meetings and the promotion ceremony had lit a fire of frustration within Tina. Her own start at Headquarters had been far more privileged than Ian's, yet he had skyrocketed past her, becoming the new sensation. Of course, having witnessed his power firsthand, she understood it was deserved. But the comparison stung.
The memory of her own choice to yield to the Warlord's ship, contrasted with Ian's defiant stand for justice, was the deepest cut.
Swish!
A figure suddenly fell into step beside them. It was Ian, resplendent in his new Commodore's uniform.
"Captain Tina," he began, his tone genuinely curious. "I saw you clearly at the ceremony. But you left early during the introductions. You're the person I know best here at Headquarters. Why the cold shoulder? Don't tell me I'm the only one who considers us friends?"
Tina was taken aback, unconsciously avoiding his gaze. "Congratulations on your promotion, Commodore Ian. I just... had urgent matters to attend to. Tina and you are colleagues, and of course... we are friends."
She couldn't deny it. Even the hardened veterans in the conference room had been impressed by his integrity and courage. And she had seen it up close—the bravery, the fearlessness, the overwhelming strength. He was the very incarnation of justice so many Marines aspired to be. How could she refuse the sincere friendship of the Navy's newest rising star?
"Tina, I'd almost forgotten. Thanks for reminding me," Ian said, his voice shifting from friendly to a blade of cold authority. "I am a Commodore now. So... ATTENTION!"
The barked command was so sudden that Morek dropped to one knee in a panicked salute. Tina's eyes widened. After a stunned second, she snapped to a rigid attention herself.
"At Headquarters, remember one thing above all else," Ian stated, his voice echoing across the grounds. "Obeying the chain of command is a Marine's sacred duty! Both of you, left face! It doesn't matter which training ground this is... you will run fifty laps. Now! Report back to me when you're finished. For every lap you miss, you'll run ten more!"
The order hung in the air.
Morek responded instantly, his voice trembling. "YES, COMMODORE IAN!"
Tina turned her head, her expression a complex mix of resignation and a grudging 'you've got to be kidding me.' She gave a sharp, tiny nod. "Understood... Commodore."
As he watched Tina's slim, stubborn figure begin the first of her fifty laps, a flicker of something almost like pity crossed Ian's mind.
He couldn't help but mutter to himself, "Huh... fifty laps. Was that too lenient?"
End of Chapter