Chapter 27: Webs of Conspiracy and Internal Truths
"Contact me immediately! It must be immediately! Do you understand? Remember this!" Garp's voice was a low, gravelly roar, his final, stern warning delivered with an intensity that brooked no argument.
"I understand, Teacher. Your words are more than enough." This was precisely the answer Ian had hoped for. As expected, Vice Admiral Garp's treatment of his prized apprentice was worlds apart from his famously harsh approach with his own grandson.
…
Meanwhile, in the New World, the Kingdom of Dressrosa.
Within the opulent hall of the royal castle, the senior officers of the Don Quixote Family were assembled. Seated on the throne at the head of the room, a man in a flamboyant pink feather coat stared at the Den Den Mushi on the table before him, a wicked, strained smile plastered on his face.
Donquixote Doflamingo. One of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, the self-proclaimed King of Dressrosa.
The Den Den Mushi perfectly mimicked the furious expression of the caller on the other end. "JOKER! YOU BASTARD! Do you want the demon to become a mace and help you get rid of the aliens?! Do you know who you are working with?! Do you have the right to make demands on me?! You incompetent lackey of the World Government! Before I get completely mad, you'd better hurry up and prepare your trade items. Be careful, or I'll kill you first!"
In the hall, the gathered Family cadres stood in tense silence, their expressions grim. Any ordinary person who dared speak to Doflamingo in such a manner would already be dead. But Doflamingo couldn't afford to easily anger the person on the other end of the line: one of the Four Emperors of the New World, the Governor of the Beasts Pirates, Kaido, the "King of Beasts."
"Fufufufu... Mr. Kaido, please, hear me out first," Doflamingo crooned, the sound a sinister contrast to the venom he'd just received. "The emergence of Jock Ian has disrupted our entire operation. A batch of raw materials critical for producing 'SMILE' was completely seized by the Marines. While I've... managed the situation with the World Government, Jock Ian has now been assigned to the Sabaody Archipelago. This makes it exceedingly difficult for my people to operate in the first half of the Grand Line! The World Government has warned me that, given the... delicate circumstances, no one from my Family can move directly against Ian... Fufufufu. For the sake of our smooth and continued cooperation, shouldn't Governor Kaido provide some assistance? I can be persuaded to adjust the price... favorably."
Though he had been verbally flayed, Doflamingo's smile only grew more predatory. The children Ian had rescued had nothing to do with the SMILE production line, but that was irrelevant. He would not simply swallow this insult. Since his own hands were tied, the most elegant solution was to manipulate his powerful—and volatile—business partner into doing the dirty work for him.
Aboard Ian's Warship, En route to Sabaody.
The journey from Marineford to the Sabaody Archipelago would take no more than two hours at a warship's speed. Ian summoned his four team leaders, including Nami, intending to use the brief transit time for a crucial meeting.
On the warship's deck, Ian had dismissed the surrounding guards. He lounged leisurely on a deck chair under a makeshift parasol, taking a deep sip of iced orange juice. Freed from the stifling atmosphere of Headquarters, the true, unbridled Ian was back in his element.
Ahh...
Seeing Ian gesture with his empty glass, Nami quickly trotted over, took it, and placed it on a nearby wooden table. As she turned to rejoin the others standing at attention, Ian reached out and caught her arm.
"It's too sunny out there, Nami. Just stay here under the shade and listen," he said, his tone casual but firm. "We're all going to have a good, honest chat as a new team."
A faint blush colored Nami's cheeks, but she didn't resist his gesture. Instead, she quietly savored the feeling of his "special care."
"Skylark."
"Here, sir!" The blonde sniper snapped to attention.
"Go fetch the chairs from the stern."
"Yes, Commodore Ian!"
Skylark scurried off and returned a moment later, struggling slightly with a heavy chair. "Commodore Ian, where should I put it?"
"Place it next to Uncle T," Ian instructed, pointing.
T. Peng turned, a look of confusion on his weathered face. "Me? Uncle... Uncle T?"
Ian leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head. "That's right. Mr. Garp mentioned before he left that you're the seasoned veteran here. You've served the Marines longer than I have, so I should show you the same respect I show him. Given the age difference, 'Uncle T' seems appropriate."
T. Peng stiffened into a rigid salute. "That will not be necessary, Commodore Ian! Please, treat me no differently than any other subordinate! I am your officer, nothing more!"
To emphasize his point, he effortlessly lifted the chair Skylark had just placed behind him and moved it back to its original position. The man was almost comically earnest.
Ian chuckled inwardly. So be it. He had offered a small courtesy, and it had been flatly refused. It didn't matter. This meeting was about establishing the true chain of command, and that often required a firm hand after the pleasantries were over.
"Alright, everyone," Ian began, his tone shifting to one of business. "The ship has sailed. For the next four months, at least, you will serve as my subordinates. The purpose of this meeting is simple: we are going to be brutally honest with each other. I only want to hear the truth. Not a single lie." He paused, letting his gaze sweep over them. "You all know I'm a user of the Human-Human Fruit. That makes me, in a sense, the person in this world who 'understands the human body best.' I can tell if you're lying just by your physical reactions."
His eyes settled on T. Peng. "Uncle T, you'll start. Tell me the real reason you were assigned to my unit. What instructions have you been given that I don't know about?"
These were questions he could never have asked at Headquarters. But out here on the open sea, he needed clarity.
T. Peng, standing stiffly under the blazing sun, took two steps forward. "Commodore Ian," he stated with unwavering honesty, "I was assigned by direct order of Fleet Admiral Sengoku. My primary duty is to actively cooperate and complete the mission of garrisoning the Sabaody Archipelago. Additionally, Fleet Admiral Sengoku has tasked me with recording your daily conduct, handling of affairs, crisis response, leadership style... and so on. I am to compile a written report every forty-eight hours and send it back to Headquarters via Den Den Mushi fax."
Ian: "..."
It was exactly as he had suspected. This was why Sengoku had dared to entrust such a young, unproven officer with a critical mission. He had a spy embedded in the unit, a direct line back to the highest authority.
A report every two days? That was relentless.
While Ian's internal monologue was a whirlwind of strategic calculation, T. Peng's blunt confession created an entirely different atmosphere. The man's honesty was almost disarming.
"Ahem," Ian cleared his throat, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Uncle T, we're all part of the same team now, a family. Surely, these reports of yours could find a way to also mention..."
End of Chapter