The Marines had dominated the seas for generations because they possessed something pirates could never replicate: a complete, systematic infrastructure. Medical care being chief among their advantages.
Consider the contrast. Among rivals of the same era, Whitebeard in his old age was riddled with illness, dependent on IV drips just to function. Golden Lion Shiki had a ship's rudder embedded in his skull for over twenty years, unable to remove it despite his legendary status.
And the Marines? Garp ate rice crackers and donuts daily without a care in the world, showing no signs of high blood pressure, diabetes, or heart disease. Sengoku kept a pet goat and seemed perfectly healthy. Neither required medication or showed any decline.
Zephyr was perhaps unlucky. His asthma and the loss of his arm had diminished his strength significantly. But even then, while he remained in active service, the Marines had developed a mechanized prosthetic arm specifically for him. The research, resources, and technology that went into that project alone demonstrated their capabilities.
The aftercare, maintenance, and retirement benefits the Marines provided would make even Golden Lion weep with envy.
Right now, Finn was experiencing that superior treatment firsthand.
The Admiral's personal warship was configured to an impressive standard. The medical officer wasn't just some ordinary doctor, he was a Devil Fruit user with healing abilities. After a brief examination and treatment, Finn's injuries were nearly completely resolved. All that remained was rest for a day or two, and he'd be back to full capacity.
Lying on the infirmary bed, Finn still found it somewhat surreal.
Things had progressed too smoothly. The assessment had been almost casual. Before he'd even fully processed what was happening, he'd already passed.
His gaze drifted to the sword resting beside his bed.
He'd gone through considerable effort to acquire Sōzai, one of the twenty-one Great Grade blades, specifically to improve his chances at the assessment. In the end, it had barely mattered.
And he'd made an enemy of the Donquixote Family in the process, for essentially nothing.
Still, Finn had no regrets. Thorough preparation before any significant event had always been one of his core principles. He hadn't known how the Officer Training Camp assessment would be conducted, so preparing contingencies had been the rational choice.
As for Doflamingo? Let him come to Marineford if he had the courage. See how far that attitude got him.
Besides, even if he didn't have the same obsessive dedication to swordsmanship that true blade masters possessed, owning a Great Grade sword was objectively beneficial.
Never a waste.
As Finn contemplated these miscellaneous thoughts, the infirmary door creaked open slightly.
Hearing the sound, he assumed one of the Admirals had come to check on him. He immediately straightened, preparing to get out of bed to greet them properly.
Finn was realistic about his position. He didn't suffer from delusions that being a transmigrator made him inherently superior to this world's natives. No inexplicable sense of arrogance clouded his judgment.
You acted according to your level and capabilities. Simple as that.
If he were the strongest person in the world, he could lie here and wait for others to pay respects. But he wasn't. When facing someone more powerful, especially someone who might be his superior for years to come, showing appropriate respect was simply practical.
But as he moved to stand, a small head poked through the gap in the door. A blond child, no more than eight or nine years old.
Finn paused, confused. They stared at each other across the room for a long moment.
Then the kid seemed to gather his courage and squeezed through the doorway, moving with obvious shyness.
"Who are you?" Finn asked, keeping his tone gentle.
He wasn't certain of the child's identity. Could be the illegitimate son of some high-ranking noble. Could be related to Sengoku or Zephyr somehow. Best to be cautious.
The boy didn't speak. Instead, he walked to Finn's bedside, extended both hands somewhat awkwardly, and held out a large red apple.
The gesture was clear: he wanted Finn to accept it.
Finn's confusion deepened. What is this about?
After a moment's consideration, he reached out and took the apple. "Thank you."
Only then did the child seem to relax. A shy smile appeared on his face.
Finn held the apple, examining the boy. The kid's expression was so earnestly hopeful that Finn finally shook his head with resignation and took a bite.
There were two Admirals aboard this ship. Surely there was no danger in eating fruit offered by a child, right?
As Finn chewed, the boy finally spoke, his voice soft. "Rosinante..."
"Rosinante?" Finn repeated, not quite understanding.
"Um... Rosinante... my name." The kid nodded, embarrassment coloring his cheeks.
"Ah, I see. My name is Finn..." Finn started to say.
Then he froze mid-sentence.
Aren't you Doflamingo's younger brother?
I really do have an ongoing connection with the Donquixote Family, don't I?
The pieces fell into place. Finn recalled what he knew from his previous life's knowledge. Rosinante had become Admiral Sengoku's adopted son at a young age, joined the Marines, eventually rose to Captain at Headquarters, then chose to go undercover back with the Donquixote Family.
He'd died on Minion Island. Killed by his own brother, Doflamingo.
If Rosinante was here now, he must have already met Admiral Sengoku. Probably already adopted, which explained his presence on this warship.
Finn felt a complex mixture of emotions.
Rosinante was, to put it bluntly, a walking disaster for anyone on his team. The kid had a saint's temperament from youth, which meant he ended up unintentionally sabotaging everyone around him with the best of intentions.
He'd cost Doflamingo the Op-Op Fruit, one of the most valuable Devil Fruits in existence. He'd caused Admiral Sengoku's mission for the World Government to fail catastrophically. The only person who'd benefited from Rosinante's choices was Trafalgar Law.
You had to be careful around people like this. They might suddenly get a compassionate idea and dig a pit for you without realizing it, and you'd fall in so deep you couldn't climb out.
Finn looked at the half-eaten apple in his hand again and couldn't help but sigh internally.
With your kind heart, have you already started causing trouble from this moment? Otherwise, why give me an apple unprompted?
"Little brat..." Finn muttered, reaching out to ruffle Rosinante's hair with mild exasperation.
Is this what counts as being manipulated?
Still, it wasn't necessarily bad. Rosinante was the adopted son of Admiral Sengoku, essentially the child of a high-ranking official. And judging by Sengoku's later behavior in the timeline Finn remembered, the Admiral clearly cared deeply for this boy.
Sengoku had remained single his entire life, never had children of his own. He'd probably poured all those paternal feelings into Rosinante.
Considering those factors, Rosinante was potentially worth befriending at this stage.
Having his head ruffled, Rosinante looked embarrassed and lowered his gaze shyly, but he didn't pull away.
At that moment, the door that Rosinante had left ajar opened wider, and Admiral Sengoku stepped into the infirmary.
He took in the scene: Finn leaning against the bed with a half-eaten apple, hand gently resting on Rosinante's head. It was unexpectedly warm, almost domestic.
Something soft in Sengoku's chest stirred. His impression of Finn improved noticeably.
"Rosinante, I was wondering where you'd wandered off to. So you're here?" Sengoku's tone was remarkably gentle, completely different from his usual authoritative bearing.
Rosinante looked embarrassed and quickly lowered his head.
Finn took the opportunity to start standing.
But Sengoku stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, keeping him seated. "That's not necessary. Too formal."
Originally, Admiral Sengoku had simply come to find Rosinante. He'd had no particular intention of speaking with Finn at length. After all, the young Captain wasn't especially noteworthy, and they had little to discuss.
But perhaps the scene he'd witnessed upon entering had touched something in him. Or perhaps for some other reason. Whatever the cause, Sengoku inexplicably felt more warmly disposed toward Finn than logic warranted.
Sometimes people were just like that. Inexplicable.
So instead of immediately taking Rosinante and leaving, Sengoku sat down on the edge of the bed quite naturally. He placed one hand on Rosinante's head and smiled. "Finn, how are you feeling?"
"Much better, Admiral. The doctor said I'll be fully recovered in two days." Finn responded promptly.
"Good. Don't hold Zephyr's punch against him. It was a test. If you hadn't been strong enough, staying in the North Blue would have been perfectly acceptable. It's considerably safer there than the Grand Line." Sengoku's voice was mild, almost paternal.
"Yes, Admiral. I understand," Finn said with a nod.
"I'm glad you do. Zephyr seems very optimistic about you. He hopes you'll become a pride of the Marines in the future, and his personal pride as an instructor." Sengoku paused, then added with a slight smile, "I'm optimistic about you as well."
Finn's eyes brightened with genuine enthusiasm. "I won't disappoint you, sir."
"Rest well. We still have business to attend to in the North Blue before returning to Marineford." Sengoku stood, the conversation clearly ending.
He looked down at Rosinante. "Rosinante, Finn needs rest and recovery. Shall we go?"
Rosinante nodded obediently and reached up to take Sengoku's hand. They really did look like father and son standing there together.
One had to admit, Sengoku was impressive in ways that transcended combat power. Even Whitebeard couldn't match his style.
Newgate had adopted the son of the Pirate King at most. But Sengoku? He'd started out by becoming the adoptive father of a Celestial Dragon's biological son.
That was a different level entirely.
As Sengoku reached the door, he turned back. "Captain Finn, the age gap between you and Rosinante is smaller than most aboard. He'll be lonely on this ship and at Headquarters. I hope you'll look after him when opportunities arise."
Finn didn't particularly want to get too entangled with Rosinante and his future catastrophes, but he recognized a direct request from an Admiral when he heard one.
"Yes, Admiral," he said immediately.
Sengoku nodded with satisfaction and led Rosinante out, the door closing quietly behind them.
Finn sat in the sudden silence, staring at the half-eaten apple in his hand.
He'd come to the North Blue to take an assessment and ended up with a famous sword, a transfer to Headquarters, Zephyr's approval, Sengoku's favor, and an unexpected connection to a walking disaster child who would one day be at the center of a major incident.
The world worked in mysterious ways.
Finn took another bite of the apple. It was crisp, sweet, perfectly ripe.
At least the kid had good taste in fruit.
He lay back against the pillows, feeling the gentle rock of the ship beneath him. Somewhere above, two Admirals were planning an operation against Golden Lion Shiki. Somewhere in the North Blue, Doflamingo was searching for this same child.
And Finn? He was exactly where he'd fought for seven years to be: on the path to Marineford, with the attention of legends, and a future that finally looked promising.
He'd take the complications as they came. For now, that was enough.