Lancelot's words, sharp and clear, hung in the damp prison air.
Upon hearing them, Don Krieg's expression, which had been a mask of sullen fury, twisted instantly.
A desperate, almost manic glimmer of hope flashed in his eyes.
This was a lifeline, a chance to escape the suffocating despair of this cell.
Before Gin could even process the offer, Krieg lunged at the bars of his cell, his voice a desperate rasp.
"I'm willing! Take me! I'll join you, I'll do anything!"
Lancelot watched the display with a cold, analytical amusement.
Krieg was nothing but a self-serving opportunist, exactly as the original story had depicted.
His crew, his ambitions, even his most trusted subordinate Gin, were all just disposable pawns to him.
This was the man who hadn't hesitated to turn on Gin and Sanji after they had saved his life.
Given their current situation—doomed to rot in this prison or face execution—it was perfectly in character for Krieg to shove his own man aside for the slimmest chance of freedom.
Only then did Lancelot deign to turn his gaze upon Don Krieg.
A slow, cold smile curled his lips, a look of profound, mocking disdain.
He let Krieg's desperate plea hang in the air for a moment, savoring the man's pathetic hope.
"My authority, unfortunately, is limited," Lancelot said, his voice dripping with false regret. "It only allows me to release one of you to serve as my subordinate. So, tell me, are you truly trying to steal your own crewmate's chance at freedom?"
At these words, both Pearl and Gin reacted.
Pearl's eyes widened slightly, but it was Gin's reaction that Lancelot was watching.
Gin gaze flickered, a complex storm of emotions passing through it: surprise, calculation, and a trace of... disappointment.
Not in Lancelot, but in his captain.
Even so, he looked at the desperate, snarling form of Don Krieg, the man he had followed, the man he had revered.
Finally, Gin let out a long, heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping in resignation.
"Let the captain go," he said, his voice quiet but firm.
In the end, he chose to give up this one-in-a-million opportunity.
He did this even though he could tell, with a sinking certainty, that Lancelot had come here specifically for him.
A silent, victorious smile flickered in Lancelot's mind.
This was the answer he wanted.
The more Gin acted this way, the more satisfied Lancelot became.
If a man could show this much blind, self-sacrificial loyalty to a worthless coward like Krieg, what kind of loyalty could he show to a true leader? A leader who offered power, respect, and a future?
Lancelot, however, laughed aloud, a short, sharp bark of amusement.
"Recruit him?" he scoffed, gesturing to Krieg. "If he can abandon his most loyal comrade today, he'll abandon me tomorrow. Tell me, who would ever want someone like him on their team?"
Krieg froze, his hopeful expression collapsing into one of pure, venomous resentment.
Lancelot's gaze shifted back to Gin, his smile fading.
"Think carefully," he said, his voice dropping. "This is your only chance. If you refuse, the rest of your life will be spent behind these bars."
Gin was silent for a long moment. He glanced at Lancelot, then at his fuming captain, and finally at Pearl, who was watching silently from the adjacent cell.
He was trapped.
Loyalty demanded he stay, but survival—and perhaps a new, strange kind of honor—pulled him toward this terrifying, calculating Marine.
In the end, Gin nodded slowly.
"I can agree," he said, his voice rough. "And I promise to be utterly loyal once I become your subordinate. But... I have one condition."
"Let's hear it," Lancelot replied, already knowing what it would be.
Gin's gaze softened as he looked at his former crewmates.
"Treat my captain and Pearl well. Don't let them... suffer... in here."
"Agreed," Lancelot said without hesitation. It cost him nothing, and it bought him everything.
Krieg, however, exploded, betrayed by his own pawn.
"Gin, you... you traitor! How dare you—"
Lancelot didn't even raise his voice.
He simply looked at Krieg.
His gaze, no longer mocking, turned flat, cold, and utterly devoid of emotion.
It was the same look he had worn as he'd run civilians through to get to the pirates behind them.
Instantly, the vivid, bloody memory of Lancelot's massacre on the island flooded Krieg's mind.
This wasn't just a Marine; this was a god of death reborn, a monster who didn't play by any rules.
"Gulp…"
A raw sound of terror escaped Krieg's throat, and he involuntarily stumbled back from the bars.
Lancelot shook his head in disdain.
This man was already broken, thoroughly shattered by fear.
It was just like the original story, where he had been chased like a stray dog across the Grand Line by a single man, Mihawk.
Lancelot truly had no idea how this pathetic coward had managed to win the absolute loyalty of a man like Gin in the first place.
He then turned to Tashigi.
"Release Gin."
Tashigi, who had been watching this all unfold with a deeply troubled expression, hesitated.
"Just... just like that?" She looked at Gin, her hand instinctively gripping the hilt of her sword.
This was a ruthless pirate, a known killer! She couldn't believe this was happening.
Noticing her hesitation, Lancelot reassured her.
"Don't worry, Petty Officer. For the sake of his captain's well-being, he won't cause any trouble. Will you, Gin?"
Hearing this, Gin studied Lancelot closely.
At that moment, he suddenly realized a chilling fact: this man who had defeated him, this man who was now his new master, understood his own loyalty and motivations better than his captain ever had.
"Ah…" Gin sighed, a sound of pained farewell.
He finally turned to Krieg. "Captain, I'm sorry. There's no other choice now. If I leave with him, at least... you'll be treated better here."
Click…
Tashigi, though still deeply wary, unlocked the cell door.
Her hand remained firmly on the hilt of her sword.
She simply couldn't believe a pirate would genuinely defect to the Marines.
Gin glanced at Tashigi, then stepped out of the cell and stood before Lancelot, coming to a stiff, almost military, position of attention.
"Lieutenant."
Tashigi corrected him, her voice strained.
"He's been promoted. It's... Lieutenant Commander Lancelot. Though, he hasn't changed into the uniform yet."
"Lieutenant Commander?" Gin was momentarily stunned.
A promotion that fast?
Lancelot's grin was wide and genuine. "All thanks to you three. Without this 'Krieg Pirates' incident, it would have taken me at least a year or two to reach this rank."
Krieg: "…"
Pearl: "…"
Gin: "…"
"Hahaha…" Lancelot burst into laughter, breaking the heavy tension.
Seeing this, even Tashigi couldn't help but let out a small, nervous chuckle.
It was, bizarrely, true.
Without these three high-bounty pirates, Lancelot's promotion would have been impossible.
Then Tashigi said to Lancelot, "Lieutenant Commander, Captain Smoker has already prepared your ship. It's waiting at the harbor. He said you should... go take a look."
"Oh?" Lancelot looked astonished, then genuinely overjoyed. "I didn't expect Captain Smoker to be so efficient! I thought I'd have to wait at least ten days or half a month for a vessel!"
Tashigi didn't respond.
She merely smiled, and it was a very... meaningful... smile.
When Lancelot and Gin arrived at the harbor, both men stopped dead in their tracks. For a long moment, they were utterly dumbfounded.
It wasn't because the ship was bad.
Quite the opposite.
It was a floating fortress.
A massive, three-decked sailing vessel that dwarfed every other ship in the harbor, including Smoker's.
It was easily a hundred meters long and thirty meters tall, its hull painted a menacing black.
At its prow reared a terrifying, snarling black panther figurehead, its eyes seemingly glaring down at them.
Among all the ships in the East Blue, this was undoubtedly one of the best.
Lancelot felt a headache forming.
He slowly turned his head to look at Gin, who was standing beside him, looking just as stunned.
"Unless I am very much mistaken," Lancelot said, his voice flat, "this is your former flagship, the Dreadnought Battleship Saber, is it not?"
Gin nodded, equally speechless.
He could even see, high on the mainmast, the tattered remains of their pirate flag still flapping in the breeze.
Lancelot turned to Tashigi, who had followed them.
"Are there... no other ships available?"
Tashigi had clearly been waiting for this reaction.
She was unable to suppress the triumphant smirk that spread across her lips.
"Lieutenant Commander Lancelot, you should know this. While an inspector in the East Blue can have their own warship, it's almost always just a repurposed pirate ship. And this Krieg pirate ship... it's really quite good. It's a large-class vessel. If it weren't for you, Captain Smoker would never have been willing to part with it. After all, selling it to merchants would fetch a tidy sum for the base's budget."
Lancelot finally understood the meaningful smile.
This was Smoker's parting gift.
A joke, a burden, and a genuinely valuable asset all rolled into one.
He really didn't need such a massive ship for his initial plans, which involved a small, fast, elite team.
A small or medium-sized vessel would have been perfect. But now, it seemed there was no other choice.
Lancelot turned back to Gin. "You know how to sail this thing, right?"
Gin nodded. "I was the one who oversaw its construction, sir."
Lancelot sighed. "Good..."
He looked back at the imposing Dreadnought Battleship Saber.
It seemed he'd have to adjust his plans.
He'd still need to make a stop at Syrup Village to acquire a specific... talent... but he'd have to wait.
He had to wait until his father's package arrived.
Wait until the Devil Fruit arrived.
And wait until he had personally fed it to Lina, securing her power and her loyalty.
Even with Krieg as leverage, he couldn't immediately trust Gin as a true confidant.
It was still wise to be cautious.
...
A full month passed in the blink of an eye.
Lancelot had spent the time... familiarizing himself with his new duties, which mostly involved 'inspecting' his new quarters with Lina and, occasionally, his new ship with Gin.
He was still awaiting word on the Devil Fruit.
Then, one bright, sunny afternoon, an unexpected visitor arrived at his doorstep.
This person, clad in a dark, formal coat that was completely out of place in the East Blue, raised a hand to knock.
But before their knuckles could touch the wood, a clear, female voice cried out from within, muffled but passionate.
"...I... I can't take it anymore! Lancelot, please!"
The visitor's hand froze, hovering inches from the door.
A visible, angry twitch developed in their left eye.
"Truly," the visitor muttered under their breath, their voice tight with exasperation.
"Without a shadow of a doubt... he is Burns' son."